Well, I've been in Atlantic City for the last several days and I must tell you it's not my kind of vacation spot. Besides the fact that I seem to have found myself here at a point in time when dead mussels litter the beach - and stink up the boardwalk and surrounding countryside in front of the Hilton - there is also a certain other-worldliness to this town.
Buses roll in throughout the day, many of them originating in New York City, and they disgorge their passengers - the preponderance of which are very old; some even feeble - at the casinos. Thousands of elderly people can be found sitting in front of the slot machines at the various facilities around town with a surreal indifference in their expressions. They play. They lose. They go home. Hard to tell if they're actually enjoying it.
But they show up each day by the nursery home-load. So they must find some kind of pitiful satisfaction in their experiences.
Then I could mention the adventure it is to head out of the downtown area to find a nice restaurant at night, one in a location where you won't get your head handed to you.
But I'll not go there ...
