vincent van flamingo

Tonight is another Out with ACT night, and it reminded me to post this. Leaving the last show and walking to my car parked over in freaking Chinatown, Kevin and I had passed one of the my favorite art galleries on the strip. I don't think I would every buy anything in there, and it's not really a place for art criticism, but they always have interesting, well done peeves in the windows. We always stop and to appreciate and discuss. This new painting in the window caught my eye:

Because this is the sign of the flea-bit, super-kitch hotel Kevin booked us into on our Mystery Date to Tucson so many years ago.

Very cool.

The place was hanging on by a thread, catering mostly to transients and students in desperate need of cheap, temporary housing. Kevin could not tell that from the marketing materials. What was evident was that the hotel was super campy fun with neon astro turf and an individual and specific western movie theme to many of the rooms. It turned out to be less than clean (sort of like a used petri dish) and in a state of decay. So much so that one of our number ditched for the Hilton. The rest of us appreciated the "charm," dead birds in the brackish brown swimming pool and all. We are those kind of people.