The Strip is LIVE Tonight, 7-8 pm PT!

Departing from our usual celeb-driven format, we're focusing this week on security and safety in Las Vegas following the Luxor car bomb incident and the New York-New York shooting. This week's show features an interview with former Sheriff Bill Young and a chat with Justin Lampert, an Iraq War vet from North Dakota who helped tackle the shooter at the New York-New York.

Plus, news from Vegas, the trivia question, the poll, letters and the Top Secret Tourist Tip of the Week.

Join us live from 7-8 pm PT at LVRocks.Com.

Prose Unbecoming a Publisher

There were some very interesting pieces in today's Sunday paper, my favorite being a fun feature by the Review-Journal's Henry Brean on movies set at the Hoover Dam and creepy ones from the AP about a machine being taught to beat people at poker and the trend toward companies and hospitals putting microchips in humans to track them for various reasons. I even learned in Sports today that there's a BoSox centerfielder named Coco Crisp, which made me giggle.

Still, the thing that got me was that, just when we thought it couldn't sink any lower, the feud between the publishers of the Review-Journal and the Sun sank to new depths when R-J publisher Sherm Frederick delved into mastubatory allegories unbecoming a family newspaper. To wit, he wrote:

On a related note, I had to smile at the weekly "I hate Sherm" column by my steamed colleague Brian Greenspun over at the Sun. As usual, his taunts are sophomoric, boring and a chore to read.

For those who try, I have a story (which is absolutely true) that may help.

It's about a monkey I once saw as a kid in my neighborhood pet shop.

This little monkey had a problem with ... well ... let's just say as politely as possible that the little guy had a penchant for engaging in repeated acts of self-gratification.

When unsuspecting customers wandered near the monkey's cage, he would squeak in anger, pull a blanket over his lap and then furiously continue on as if no one could see what he was doing.

That's Brian Greenspun in a nutshell. When he is caught in his journalistic acts of self indulgence, Brian angrily squeaks and pulls a blanket over his figurative lap. Then, he pounds away, as it were, as if people are unable to see what's really going on.

But, of course, they can.

Sigh. Insert your spank-the-monkey joke here. When are both of these kids gonna grow up? How embarrassing for both of these men, their publications and their staffs. But, I admit, endlessly amusing to the rest of us.

[Disclosure: I worked for three years at the R-J and I have written for several Greenspun and Stephens Media publications.]

Can someone explain this to me?

Before Miles, I had one other significant relationship. My first partner and I met when we were 20, had a big fancy wedding at 26 and split up in a very bitter divorce at 30. That was 2002.

Since then, I have lived at three different addresses. My ex and I are no longer as bitter but we have very little contact and mainly know of one another's doings from another couple. I have Miles and my ex, who is a third-year medical resident in the Chicago area, has some guy who likes piercings and kilts. And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

But, oddly, this week something weird started happening: I'm getting mail at this house for my ex-partner. It's not forwarded. It doesn't have my name anywhere near it. And, again, this is my third address since we broke up. My ex, in fact, has never had any reason to send me anything here, so I doubt he even knows my address.

Both pieces of mail so far were junk. One was some debt-consolidation service that referenced his medical-school loan debt (whew - dodged that bullet). The other offered him a low-interest credit card. I suspect, given this, that more is to come.

Could it really be that some junk-mail firm figured out that we were once involved -- although that's been over for nearly five years and was never legal in any way that would show up in the sorts of documents and services that such firms use to harvest information? It is true that if you Google his whole name, the fourth entry is a notice that appeared in 1999 in my university's alumni magazine announcing our wedding. But the first three entries aren't even him, they're other people -- other doctors, in fact -- with his whole name. And anyway, isn't that a lot of steps for them to take to put his name to my address?

Baffling, no? Anyone have any vague explanation? Or any way to stop it now that it's started?

Strip Outtakes Available!

For those of you who may not have noticed, we posted a 12-minute bonus this week containing outtakes from this week's show with Jon Lovitz. Lovitz was supposed to call in live and when he didn't, things went a little kooky.

Listen to it here or right-click here to download the file and hear whenever you want. And catch our live shows on Tuesdays, 7-8 pm PT at LVRocks.Com.

Placentamania! and Norm!

My piece in today's USA Today on the movement to ingest the placenta (yum!) is drawing a gazillion comments on the newspaper's website. Check out the piece and the reaction, mostly appalled it seems, here.

And, on another front, we made Norm! again this week for the Donny Osmond interview. Read that here.

Danny Gans redux and more

Three images of interest out there from my prowl through the week's worth of papers and magazines that stacked up while I was away on account of my grandfather's illness, death and funeral:


Danny Gans appeared on the cover of Las Vegas Magazine looking closer to his real self than his new advertisements. Just wondering why they bothered to fake his ad photo if they're cool with him looking like he really looks on magazine covers. (See earlier post about Danny's new image.)


This photo appeared in the Las Vegas Sun several days after 7/7/7 with an article about how the crush of wedding interest in that "special" day left some couples unwed and unhappy. Except that his photo was taken days after, too. Why are they still in their formal wear? The caption said something about how they were still eating leftover cake, which may explain why she's looking so grave, huh?

This is a "house ad" (an ad in the newspaper for the newspaper itself, usually used as filler or to promote something new they're up to) for the Review-Journal is just baffling. They're pushing their new service offering the paper via PDA. Except that the caption shows the boss telling the folks at his meeting "Will you guys please read the R-J at home next week!" Now, you know times are bad when the daily newspaper itself doesn't expect people to read it, uh, daily. Yikes.

No Poker Face Here - But There Should Be

I was a bit amazed to read this on the official World Series of Poker website today, summing up the end of the tournament that left Jerry Yang of Temecula, Calif., as the 2007 WSOP champ (emphasis mine):

"Well, that's all folks. The crowds have come and gone, the cards have fallen, an a Champion has been crowned. Jerry Yang will make a fantastic poker ambassador. His dominance of the final table was reminiscent of Jamie Gold's performance last year, however his victory speech was the polar opposite. Jerry is naturally humble guy, with a firm faith and a deep respect of his fellow man. He pledged to donate 10 percent of his winning to charity, and said that he wanted to give something back to the community. he was very appreciative, and thanked Jeffrey Pollack and his staff for all their hard work throughout the Series. He thanked his wife, who he said worked very hard, but 'does not have to work anymore,' and said he was going to ensure that his six children received the best education. After all the cameras and bright lights subsided, we caught a glimpse of a real guy, with a solid foundation who love his family -- a true Champion."

Now, imagine the NFL summing up the Super Bowl by writing, "These guys are great, not like the &$@@#s who won last year." Inappropriate, right?

Sure, Jamie Gold was a controversial champion and he offended some sensibilities by his behavior during and after the tournament. His admission of cheating to me in The New York Times and on "The Strip" podcast were embarrassing, no doubt. But ultimately, he hurt only himself by squandering his fame.

The snarky reflections on his place in poker lore -- and how he compares to his successors and predecessors -- are best left to bloggers, columnists and fans. For the WSOP organization itself to make such a snide remark is out of bounds.