Saturday, January 07, 2006
Look At Me, I'm Sandra Dee
All the recent news stories about the Consumer Electronics Show (CES) in Las Vegas reminded me of the time I went... many, many years ago.
CES is Geek Disneyland. If you’ve ever lusted after any gadget, make the pilgrimage and immerse yourself in the surreality of Vegas at its most surreal:
Techheads
Rabid – I mean Old-Yeller-foaming-at-the-mouth rabid - retailers
Celebrities
Aaaaaand.... porn.
Yes, porn. (Think about it. Video makes up a huge chunk of consumer electronics. And a huge chunk of video is...?)
I went with some co-workers, in conjunction with my job at the time. We were latecomers to the show, and could get rooms only at the Sahara – where all the adult video actors were staying. After a day meeting with vendors, my co-workers and I agreed to meet at another hotel, have dinner and see a show.
(Please pardon all the “umms” and euphemisms in the following paragraph. This story doesn’t translate well without hand gestures, as well as certain phrases I refuse to commit to print. )
I waited in line for the shuttle on the Strip, along with some of the adult industry's ...um... talent. While we waited, they...um... “exchanged resumes” and “discussed skillsets.” We boarded the shuttle. I sat, probably too primly; they ...um... were decidedly not as prim.
The lights in the shuttle went off, leaving us in the dark. Some of the actors really liked that, at least from what I could tell from the various noises around me. Really liked that.
And the moment I knew the Great Cosmic Joker was having a good laugh? The shuttle’s piped-in music kicked in. Shelly Fabares, singing “Johnny Angel.” Riiiiiight. A squeaky-clean song of girlish yearning, accompanied by the primal moans of actors clad in purple animal-print spandex.
I never felt more like a Sunday School teacher in my life.
CES is Geek Disneyland. If you’ve ever lusted after any gadget, make the pilgrimage and immerse yourself in the surreality of Vegas at its most surreal:
Techheads
Rabid – I mean Old-Yeller-foaming-at-the-mouth rabid - retailers
Celebrities
Aaaaaand.... porn.
Yes, porn. (Think about it. Video makes up a huge chunk of consumer electronics. And a huge chunk of video is...?)
I went with some co-workers, in conjunction with my job at the time. We were latecomers to the show, and could get rooms only at the Sahara – where all the adult video actors were staying. After a day meeting with vendors, my co-workers and I agreed to meet at another hotel, have dinner and see a show.
(Please pardon all the “umms” and euphemisms in the following paragraph. This story doesn’t translate well without hand gestures, as well as certain phrases I refuse to commit to print. )
I waited in line for the shuttle on the Strip, along with some of the adult industry's ...um... talent. While we waited, they...um... “exchanged resumes” and “discussed skillsets.” We boarded the shuttle. I sat, probably too primly; they ...um... were decidedly not as prim.
The lights in the shuttle went off, leaving us in the dark. Some of the actors really liked that, at least from what I could tell from the various noises around me. Really liked that.
And the moment I knew the Great Cosmic Joker was having a good laugh? The shuttle’s piped-in music kicked in. Shelly Fabares, singing “Johnny Angel.” Riiiiiight. A squeaky-clean song of girlish yearning, accompanied by the primal moans of actors clad in purple animal-print spandex.
I never felt more like a Sunday School teacher in my life.
# posted by Peggy @ 11:32 AM 
