It was 2 o’clock on New Year’s morning of 2013, and Megan Mejia — exhausted after spending a special Vegas night out with her parents — went to their room to say thanks and goodnight. It’s the last thing she recalls before she went into a grand mal seizure on their bedroom floor.
Travel is not about the destination, it’s about the journey. Ferocious cliché, yes, guilty as charged, but, yeah, owning it, making it my thesis. The truism asks to be dusted off and given special consideration in the context of the Southwest, where it can seem to outsiders like the cosmic mayo jar was down to butter-knife scrapings and the culture and natural beauty got spread awfully thin in these parts.
The cramped room sparkled with the glint of green wine bottles and an impressive collection of wine knick-knacks. Pictures of scenic vineyards and maps of France, Tuscany and California covered what little wall space was available.
There must be something in the air, because this month’s mailbag is rife with anxiety about it — whether it’s floating cat germs, airborne asbestos or rogue, munchie-inducing pot clouds coming to turn your children into li’l stoners.
Robert Plant at the Brooklyn Bowl, May 28. Time to show a whole lotta love — that’s right, stamp our passports because we went there! — for this rock god turned frontman for the Sensational Space Shifters. Their spacey, jammy, folky blues are a great base for Plant’s late-career voice, brined in five lifetimes of hard-rockin’ experience. 8p, $76.50, vegas.brooklynbowl.com