So, our long airport ordeal came to a conclusion late yesterday evening after all. We caught our third chance at making standby on Southwest, and landed in Las Vegas well after dinnertime, 7 hours later than we had originally planned, but in one piece. Our luggage had taken the flight two trips earlier, and luckily for us, was waiting in Vegas when we arrived.

After unpacking at the Fairfield Wyndham, Kristine and I took a shuttle to Harrah's, so we could get dinner and begin to fine-tune the art of losing money at slots. We dabbled in that, and then made our way back to the Fairfield Resort, where we are now. Christmas in Vegas is officially here.

However, like many resorts not targeted at hard-core techies like myself, Internet access is abysmal. We've got intermittent success, and Airport's "radar" feature vacillates between a single dot and two, at best. This could prevent my posting with any good frequency. On the flip side, it may force me to be more social.

Merry Christmas!

Listening to ''Honey'', by Moby (Play Count: 1)

We thought we had the whole process nailed - show up early, get our bags checked in at curbside, and we'd whisk through security to be on our way to Las Vegas in no time. But, for reasons unbeknownst to us, US Airways canceled our flight this afternoon - sending us on a wild goose chase to find a flight on any airline that would get us to Vegas tonight. Hours into this ordeal, we're still in the San Jose airport, and just might be here for several hours more - in what might be one of the more memorable and forgettable Christmas Eves at the same time.

We made it to Long Term Parking at San Jose relatively quickly, and made our way to San Jose's Terminal C, to make it to our US Airways flight. But when we tried to check in our bags curbside, the man's eyebrows went up, informing us that our 1:50 flight to Las Vegas had been canceled - maybe due to mechanical problems, maybe due to a missing crew. Who knew? All we were sure of was that the airline didn't have an answer in store for us or the hundreds of other stranded passengers. No replacement plane. No new time. Nothing.

We hopped into a megaline that led to US Airways' front desk - one that wasn't going anywhere fast. I hopped on the Blackberry and called the airline to find a solution, and each solution offered got increasingly dire. The gentleman on the other line said there were no seats to any Las Vegas flights that day, and maybe we could wait to fly on Christmas? Then, he tried other airlines, first offering a flight on Delta through Salt Lake City to Las Vegas, and later, offering a flight on Alaskan Airlines that went to Seattle before turning around and getting to Vegas. Even after I begrudgingly said fine, it turned out all were sold out. We were S.O.L.

Thinking fast (as the line was going slow), I called Southwest Airlines to see if we could book a same-day flight to Vegas from San Jose. Surprisingly, we could - although the earliest we could be guaranteed was at 9:15 PM, to arrive in Vegas by 10:30. We said fine, and began our walk to Terminal A. Having made it to the Southwest ticket counter, we were told that not only had we checked in successfully for that flight, but that we could choose to fly standby on any of the previous flights - with one at 1:30 p.m., another at 3:45 p.m., and a third at 5:45. Light at the end of the tunnel!

We've made our way to the gate, having parted with our checked bags, a pair of suitcases we may never see again. In fact, before the 1:30 flight, we were told that we were separating from our bags, and that the airline would not deliver them to us. Were we willing to take the risk? Sure, why not? After all, if I have my laptop and iPods in my laptop case, I don't really care if some foolish thief walks off with my slacks, sweater, underwear and socks. Hopefully they're the same size I am.

So, until further notice, we're stuck. The passengers around us change, the flights to various non-Vegas cities continue to be called sporadically, and seemingly every two minutes, Cinnabon puffs out a wafting scent of cinnamon sugar pastries. I haven't yet fallen for the ploy. But, if forced to stay through 9-something here, as we watch the sun go down on Christmas Eve, I just might do it.

Bah humbug.

What better to do with the most religious of holidays than head to the City of Sin?

In a few short hours, my wife, Kristine, and I will be headed, on a jetplane, to the fun-filled city of Las Vegas, where we will be through Wednesday, December 27th. While in Vegas, we will meet up with her mother, brother and assorted aunts and uncles. Though we will certainly find time for family dinners and celebration of the day, we will be largely left to ourselves, to see if we can put a dent in Nevada's coffers as amateur gamblers, or catching a show.

Molly, our 17-year-old beagle, is safe in the care of Kristine's father, and she will no doubt be spoiled with plenty of walks and treats, and hopefully won't cause too much mischief. But after Kristine's owned the pooch for a dozen years or so, she has a high standard of living to retain, and it will be a challenge for him to meet.

For each of you, I wish you a Merry Christmas. We will be back shortly, from a new locale.

Cross-posted at Sactown Royalty...

Tonight's win aside, are the Kings setting the world ablaze with their superior basketball skills, shooting ability and friendly team camaraderie? Are they reminding us just why we chose to support them above all other NBA teams, and why we devote hours of our attention each week to cheer on their success and lament their failures?

Probably not. The Kings' recent struggles in all senses, from their overall weak shooting percentage to three-quarter ballgames (See Thursday), last-minute injuries and inability to shut down run and gun offenses have contributed to a frustrating losing skid, and, were the season to end today, the team's missing out on the playoffs.

As losses mount, and the climb to .500 seems increasingly improbable, the team's weaknesses seem insurmountable, the players, incapable of brilliance, the coaching, daft. Those of us expected to be the Kings' greatest fans grow restless, calling for the jettison of Ron Artest, the trade of Mike Bibby, the disappearance of Kenny Thomas.

As fans, we crave change. We just want something to happen that shows the team management is listening and cares as deeply as we do. Some say "blow 'it' up". TZ says simply, "we're sick of watching a pathetic team".

And guess what? This is all normal. As the most diehard of fans, you could say we start out on the ledge, and it doesn't take much to make us want to jump. But that's why we still play fantasy sports and aren't full time managers. The coaches, GM and owners have to choose data over emotion, to look at a bad streak as just what it is - and not jeopardize the season or the future for a quick fix.

News Flash: The Kings are not going to go 82-0 this season. In fact, I guarantee they won't even win 70 games. Slackers. But as excited as we get about a Ronnie Price slam, a Quincy Douby sighting, and a 40-point outburst by Kevin Martin, we must also recognize as fans that we will dive deep into depression when things don't go our way. The season is still young. We're in a very tough division, and we may not have all the horses, but we're in it for all 82. I would much rather be a Sacramento Kings fan than a fan of any other NBA squad.

We're on a 1-game winning streak now. 11-13 looks a lot better than 10-14, doesn't it? And somehow, we traveled to Denver, in the snow, and defeated a Nuggets team with a fully functional Allen Iverson. That's something to build from. Now back away from the ledge.

Listening to ''Renegade'', by Christopher Lawrence (Play Count: 7)