I am glad I went out to Las Vegas a couple months ago. My pals Old Jim and Chanteuse Mary made the decision to retire to the desert last year, before we knew that our little world was about to end. It was a splendid run at the World’s Greatest Bar Restaurant, and the Champagnes had a delightful little condominium just up the block, which is one of the factors that drove our decision to hang out there after work for nearly a decade.
Jim’s presence at the end of the bar caused us to flock there for gossip and conversation, and even attracted a modest following of folks who liked to hear Jim’s views of the world, and the changes in it since he was a young many in Northhamption, Mass, and stints of creative activity in the Nixon Administration, as speech writer for auto mogul Lee Iacoca, and a few things that can be left unmentioned, since they may still be looking for Jim.
We had a nice visit, and I was already planning on another drive-and-fly-by visit in a few weeks.
That changed on Friday when Mary sent the Willow Refugees a note informing us that Jim had taken ill, and was now resting at Mountain View Hospital:
(702) 233-5300 ยท 3100 N Tenaya Way Las Vegas, NV 89128
Mary mentioned that he had a foot infection and aFrib- Atrial Fibrillation- a pesky heart condition that can have a variety of outcomes. Naturally, I was alarmed and wanted to do something to ensure that he knew his pals were concerned, and that he was very much in our thoughts and prayers, for those that do so. At Friday’s happy hour session on Friday, we talked about what we might want to send to the hospital to let him know we were thinking of him.
As you may have gathered over the years from the musings that originated at the Amen Corner of the Willow Bar, Jim is a bit of a curmudgeon, better in my mind than Andy Rooney.
The florist that serves the hospital can be found here.
I looked through the various offerings- Roses, (which I thought were a little inappropriate), Daisy Daydreams, Polka Dots and Posies, that kind of thing. I looked in vane for an arrangement that featured an appropriate balloon, an ice bucket and a six-pack of Budweiser. No dice, for some reason, and a bit poignant, since I still have the better part of a case of Bud long neck bottles in my fridge down at the farm, pre-deployed to accommodate a party that never materialized before the moving van swept them away from Arlington to the vastness of the southwestern desert.
I didn’t think I could get cold beer to Jim via FedEx, so I kept looking for something that might resonate with him, and support the recovery process, which Mary says may take a few days for the Quacks to identify and start working on.
I was scrolling through the variety of options and found the perfect arrangement. It would have startled him, if it we still had Willow as an option to surprise him with a mylar balloon set placed at his regular seat at the bar, wishing him “a good day,” and to “Get well soon,” both held by a little stuffed bear.
I figured that would be irritating enough to get Jim to get on the mend, though I think the Budweiser arrangement would have been better.
Plus, the Lovely Bea and Jamie were already airborne on Friday to pay a visit. It was complete happenstance on the timing of the trip: Bea had a conference to cover, and Jamie is one of those peripatetic travelers to whom a weekend in the air for a brief visit is an opportunity to socialize with old pals and see some new sights.
Anyway, the below arrived yesterday and I include it to let you know that Jim is capable of sitting up and receive guests. I have a reservation out there already for early December, and can move the ticket around if necessary.
In the meantime, think of Jim and pray for his speedy recovery. He is one of the best pals a guy could have.
Copyright 2016 Vic Socotra
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