Back in West Hollywood I’m always in the groove — settled, loved/hated, driven, committed, on the stick. I’ll feel the same way in New York, Paris, Telluride, Prague, Hanoi, Wilton, Savannah, Key West…you name it. But Las Vegas feels like an empty place, and it’ll give you the virus if you let it. All those tourists without a compass or a clue. “Help…we need to party and indulge ourselves because we don’t know what else to do…whoo-hoo! We’re impressed with super-sized hotels and paying way too much for dinners!” I was contemplating the pre-dawn gloom from my 23rd-floor perspective, and for the first time in a long time I felt the blues of it all. The emptiness seeped in. This place is so not cool.