I’ve consciously avoided visiting Las Vegas—I don’t gamble, and 2 glasses of wine are about my limit. My early impressions were not good—the sight of the slot-machine spellbound greeted me as I deplaned (really, people?  Needed that one last preflight gambling hit?  Really?). With 2 hours to kill before the opening reception, I sought out the hotel gym…and found only the spa, which wished to charge me $25 a day for the privilege of working out. What kind of hotel doesn’t have a crappy room with a few treadmills and some ellipticals? The lobby/casino/restaurants are all muddled together, joined by a meandering faux cobblestone street.  With the flashing bright lights and confusing layout, it's like some concentrated bizarro perpetually nighttime Disney.  Only more vulgar.

Still, things are looking up this morning in Vegas. I had my ritual 7:30 morning run—a necessary when on the road—and it was one of my best ever. Maybe it was the tempting candy colored 8-story TVs hawking Donny &  Marie, Garth, and other more dangerous delights.  Maybe it was the horrifically tacky but entertaining "architecture" of the casinos. Maybe it was the challenge of just trying to figure out which skywalks to take to cross the streets to navigate the town.

More soon from your intrepid (ABA Special Task Force on the Effect of TARP on Corporate Governance) Reporter.