I'm sitting in the "recharge zone" at McCarran airport, waiting for my flight. It's been delayed, presumably due to weather in Portland.

I've been sitting here for an hour already, which, I suppose, isn't as bad as all that. I'm frankly more annoyed at the thought of getting home at 2 in the morning, and having to be up and out with the kids by 8. But that's as may be, and certainly nothing I can control.

The Comics Fest was, by all accounts, a rousing success. Andrew Kaplan, responsible for organizing the whole shebang, told me they'd expected 500 hundred people and hoped, optimistically, that there might be as many as 1000 who showed up. There were 1000 who showed up.

Very nice time, very nice people. If the worst that this trip offers is a delay getting home, I've really got nothing to complain about.

Edited at 02:28 am, Sunday morning, to add:

Home. Wired for sound. Scotch in hand.

Took these pictures of the Monte Carlo Hotel, when I arrived on Friday, as the cab was taking me to my hotel. Post the fire, obviously, but I thought I'd share, for those interested in casino-hotels that catch on fire. ( Pictures below the cut! )