Wonderland at Nightfall, or Shannon the Redeemer

I meant to return Byron’s earlier call. But the road to hell, so they say, is paved with good intentions.

I know that there’s nothing I could have done if I had known earlier. But I could have CARED and that’s something I can’t do if I don’t know. And I can’t know if I wall myself off. As it was, Byron didn’t get to break me this news until I went on ad infinitum about my performance at the World Series. It was only after I finished my account of jacks running into aces that I learned about Michael.

I have a theory that there’s BAD self-centered and GOOD self-centered. Bad self-centered is neglecting to return a friend’s phone call due to whatever forgettable business I considered pressing at the time. GOOD self-centered is irrationally thinking I can make a difference if I care enough – if not in Michael’s health then in his or his family’s spirits.

It follows, therefore, that I had to develop a marvelous larger-than-life idea to impose myself on Michael and his predicament. My first thought was to give him a particular cherished poker artifact that I stole at last year’s World Series. Now, I REALLY stole this, so unlike most items in my Pilfered Poker Properties collection, there was no complicity by the alleged “victim.” To demonstrate my seriousness, I will leave the identity of this item unrevealed.

But Michael’s not interested in poker, apparently a rare 17 year-old not corrupted by the lure of lax morals and easy money.

Where did that leave me? How could I possibly, within my self-important cocoon, prove that I cared?

Shannon Elizabeth redeemed me.

What 17 year-old boy wouldn’t want a series of Shannon’s movies on DVD, with a personally penned note from the star?

Perfect! Brilliant! Now all I had to do was get the DVDs. And get Shannon to sign on to the singing on.

I sent her an e-mail and a text message, describing how I would send a package with the DVDs, and another with the packing material – address, envelope, postage/shipping. The whole thing seemed so complicated in the description that I considered dropping in on her in L.A. during the Series’ off-day on Monday and getting her to sign everything that way.

(OK, that idea was only partially motivated by my interest in doing something nice for my friend’s son in a way that’s convenient for Shannon Elizabeth. This is the point at which I will reveal that I saw my first Shannon Elizabeth movie last week, JAY AND SILENT BOB STRIKE BACK. Two observations: (1) I will embarrass myself if I describe the full extent of my admiration for Shannon’s acting talent. There’s no double entendre here. She is a marvelously charismatic screen presence, and I was floored. I’ll leave it at that. Second, if that’s the effect J&SBSB had, I’m a little scared about seeing her in AMERICAN PIE.)

From our text correspondence, I learned at 4 PM Friday that Shannon wasn’t in L.A. She was in Las Vegas, as in HERE. And she graciously consented to her role in my Brilliant Plan. All I had to do was acquire the DVDs and we would rendezvous for her to sign them.

But I had to hurry. She would be leaving Las Vegas the next day, but not for Los Angeles. I would have to find her sometime between now and then when she was out and about.

The clock was ticking.

Screw the BLUFF deadline of that day. Screw the Main Event, which Full Tilt is paying me a fortune – albeit a SMALL fortune – to cover. Screw the excerpt of the STRATEGY GUIDE due at another magazine that day. And, I guess, screw all of you, who have been so patient and who I owe about a dozen overdue unwritten Blogs for this World Series.

I’m on a mission!

That’s what I thought at 4 PM. I had a dinner meeting at 7 PM and figured it would be a snap to snag some Shannon Elizabeth DVDs, intercept her on her last-day-in-town jaunt, and make my dinner, secure that I had retired as the hero.

I must be watching too many movies. During my three hours in 109-degree Las Vegas heat (and traffic), there were my observations, mostly recorded in my notebook as a form of therapy:

• What the hell is this construction at Fry’s Electronics? It’s like they are building an expressway ramp in the middle of the video game department. And it doesn’t look like a ramp TO anything.

• Fry’s has a gigantic DVD department, but it’s a shame Shannon hasn’t made any Thai kickboxing movies. All they had of hers was AMERICAN PIE 2.

• Shannon is at a shopping center 45 minutes away and leaving soon. There is no way I can get there in time, and I’m not showing up with only AMERICAN PIE 2. Why can’t movie stars carry their DVDs with them when they travel to other cities and go shopping?

• Christ, it’s hot. It took eons to get to BEST BUY in rush hour traffic. They had AMERICAN PIE but no JAY AND SILENT BOB. Because I’ve actually SEEN that one, I want to include it, if only to tell Shannon how much I liked it as she signs it.

• No word from Shannon. There’s barely time before my 7 PM dinner anyway.

• Wait! Doesn’t Barnes & Noble have DVDs? There’s one on the way. (I did a horrendous book signing there during the ’05 WSOP, which they forgot to publicize. The store was nearly empty on that Tuesday night and the sole drop-in nearly died of a choking fit as I read “Ted Forrest’s Wild Ride.” They owe me!)

• Ha! Take your video sleaze merchants and cram them! I’m an author, so I’m proud that it took a BOOK store – granted, one I previously associated with the seventh circle of hell – to produce for me a DVD of JAY AND SILENT BOB STRIKE BACK. But it’s 7 PM. I’m late for dinner and I still don’t know if I’ll be able to find Shannon tonight.

After the dinner and a brush with the Amazon Room – there’s some kind of a poker tournament going on in there, I imagine – I returned to my room at about 11:30 PM.

Shannon told me she’d be out on the Strip but I didn’t know when or where yet. In the meantime, I considered signing up for the Hundo Turbo, the midnight (PDT) Full Tilt tournament at which I fortuitously won $5000 the previous Friday night. (That’s part of a blog entry on which I am overdue; sorry.)

Shannon came through! She sent me a text that she’d be going to PURE. Meet at the valet ASAP.

I grabbed the DVDs, a magazine cover, and my car keys and raced for Caesars. In the miasma of the valet parking, I thought, “Did I register for the Hundo Turbo? And if I did, did I unregister after getting Shannon’s text?” Too late now.

I found Shannon just inside the main entrance, looking almost surrealistically beautiful. Despite mobs of people and the chaos that is uniquely The Hot Night Spot at Friday Midnight, she courteously signed every item, asking me Michael’s story and prospects, even personalizing each one with a different message.

The only thing that kept the experience from ending beyond-believable perfect was that she didn’t invite me to join her at the club.

But that would have been ridiculous, and not even something I’d rationally have wanted. I hate nightclubs – I don’t like noise, crowds, dancing, drinking, or feeling like a fossil. And though Shannon Elizabeth has been super nice every instant we’ve been together, I’m pretty sure she doesn't regard me as “dating material.”

Plus, I’m getting blinding off in a turbo tournament!

I beat a hasty retreat (lingering only for a good-bye hug) and, eased by the $25 in tips to the valet who leads me through a secret exit from Caesars on to Flamingo, I miss just the first 20 minutes of the tournament. Then I see two seats to my left is Andy Bloch, who’s not only a great player but has eliminated me from about a dozen online tournaments and one World Series event. But we don’t lock horns because after a few hands I am disconnected for 10 minutes.

But even without a night on the town with Shannon Elizabeth and with an internet connection from 1996, my evening still had a happy ending. I eventually made the final table of the Hundo Turbo and finished sixth, earning over $1,100. (This, after ending my previous evening hitting a video poker machine for $5,000.)

So I’m going to get this package off to Michael and hope some of my luck rubs off. It’s the least I can do.