ONLINE GAMBLING AND CASINO GUIDE

Grace Slick, from Jefferson Airplane, is a rock legend. If memory serves me right, she was the first famous, female lead singer in rock. She was ‘it’. She broke the barriers; she was a goddess to teens like me who wanted nothing more than to be a rock and roll star. In my case, all my talent was in my ear, and none anywhere else. I come from a musical family, but unfortunately, I am missing that part of the genetic code.

The First Lady of Rock, as I like to refer to her, was in town yesterday. She was pimping out her art at the Art of Music Gallery At The Mirage. When I got the notice about that I thought and thought about it. My first reaction was that I wasn’t going to go. I already had a full weekend planned and that 7pm meeting looked like it was going to bleed over into other things I had to get done. That wasn’t the only reason. The big reason was that I wasn’t so sure I wanted to meet her. I just didn’t want to see her now. She’s old, I’m old, we’re all old, it is all ancient history so why ruin a memory?

The more I thought about it, the more I leaned towards going there. I heard part of a thing they are doing downtown for this Summer of ’69 theme and it included “White Rabbit”. How awesome would it be to be watching the light show and listening to that song play, then to have some little, old lady next to you start belting it out? Yeah, Grace Slick herself. The looks of shock on people’s faces, the excitement that would ensue. Yeah, that would be pretty cool. I should go find out if she’s going down there.

I fought the traffic on the strip. Mainly because I forgot that to get into the Mirage, I need to pass the strip. So I turned left. Of course, I turned left! I was in a hurry so I make the worst possible choice. Nothing new there as it is the story of my life. Floor after floor of that parking garage was full. The streets were packed with tourists. It was a great sight; however, I had shit to do!

I got to the Art of Music Gallery slightly early and Grace Slick wasn’t sitting there just yet. I looked around and admired her art, I took some photos and picked a couple that were my favorite pieces. No, I didn’t buy any. I have a house full or original art that is all sitting in the closet until I finish painting. I don’t need any more. I also didn’t fall in love with any of her pieces. It isn’t my usual style.

As I turned the corner, snapping away with my not-so-trusty camera, some photo Nazi stopped me. “You cannot take photos in the gallery.” Aw, Jesus, not again… I explained I was a writer and it is a little difficult to do the story without the photos. He just looked at me. I’m thinking Dude, that’s your cue, come up with a compromise in order to get the free publicity. Nope.

Okay, granted, I did not make arrangements to do this. I went during the time the public was there. To me, it makes a better story when the public is involved. I didn’t want a private showing, I didn’t want an interview, I just wanted to take some damn pictures and listen to the fans, say a thing to her, get her photo and get on with my damn evening. Nope.

So, they spend all this money getting the press there. They went the extra mile to send me photos I needed. Then this dweeb throws all that out the window. Okay. Well, I understand the issue, which is copyright infringement. People are funny about art being photographed because it ends up reproduced. Given the camera I was using and the way I was using it, and the reason I was doing it, this was hardly an issue.

Whatever, rant over. I had already taken all I needed anyway. I just get annoyed that so many places in Vegas are so overly concerned about privacy that they shoot themselves in the foot. Rules only make sense when they make sense. So, I am posting the photos here because my readers come first. The gallery comes second. I’m sure you’re curious as to what her paintings and drawings look like. Maybe even one or two of you want to own some. The gallery may not want to have anyone see her art, but they’d sell a lot more of it if they’d let people see it. So, I’m making an executive decision, the art goes into the story.

Ms. Slick came out and sat at her little table in the front of the gallery. I think this happened while I was having that short conversation with the Photo Nazi or standing outside the gallery bitching about the photo Nazi on twitter. A handful of fans gathered around the table and asked her questions one at a time. They appeared to be more of fans, not art buyers.

I have interviewed a lot of people over the years off an on. I’m not the best at that sort of thing, really still pretty green because I wrote off and on over the past couple decades and not as a full time thing until now. But I almost always can connect with people and get them to talk. Some are easy interviews and some are very difficult because they don’t like to talk, but once I get that connection then I can really see inside the person. I did not get that connection with Grace Slick. She’s a real easy interview and will talk up a storm, but there was no connection so I was instantly crippled.

She’s, well, basically a bitch. I seriously doubt she’d mind me saying so, because I’m sure she’s aware of it. Ms. Slick keeps herself very well protected. She didn’t shake hands with her fans, she didn’t pose for photos and I got the impression she was there because this is what she had to do to sell her art. She shows up, people come, she tells her stories about Janis and Jimmy and what drugs she did, she lived and everyone loves the stories and she sells some of her paintings. It works. It appears she is not a person who adores her fans.

I told her I was happy to see her art and I asked her if she has been to Fremont Street yet. She just sort of looked at me, so I explained they are doing the Summer of ’69 down there and they are playing her song. She said that she can’t walk for more than five minutes because she has a serious problem with her feet. She said there is no cure and she need to keep them at about 68 degrees, so under the table they had a slab of marble for her to keep her feet cool. What the problem is, I do not know, I didn’t want to pry into something so personal. But then she said, “I know the song anyway.” I busted up laughing. She is quite the smartass.

Realizing I was going to go nowhere from there because we just were not connecting, I decided I would hightail it downtown so I could hit my next portion of my reliving my youth weekend.

I found this interview of her on Youtube and thought you’d enjoy seeing it. It appears to be quite recent. She was wearing the same house-key earrings last night when I met her. It really shows who Grace Slick is. I don’t think that interviewer ever made that connection with her either.

As always, she’ll be THE Grace Slick. Even at nearly 70 years old, she is still THE Grace Slick.

• Keep updated through Newsletter or on Facebook

  E-mail:
  

  Subscribe
  Unsubscribe