Teamster Daddy could easily agree with the marketing campaign "What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas". And we Teamster Daughters have to agree. We wouldn't want to know what really happened when he traveled to the Teamster mecca in the western desert because it probably would ruin the mystique that Vegas and Daddy's "meetings" has held for us since were Teamster Little Girls.

We would run to help Teamster Wife unpack his suitcase upon T-Daddy's return. Playing cards, ashtrays, empty little Jack Daniels bottles (that are served on airplanes), Delta wings and Silver dollars would be flying into our hands that he had brought home as souvenirs.

He did not win the silver dollars at the slots, because in his eyes "slots are for sissies" - he only sat at the high stakes tables. Teamster Wife, however, did hit the Jackpot once with lady luck and returned home with $100 in bicentennial silver dollars.

Teamster Wife would come home after accompanying him onto these trips and go into vivid, light filled detail about her experiences - what she saw, who she saw and what they were wearing. One year in particular, the anticipation leading up this trip was unmistakable. Teamster Wife shopped for evening wear, exotic swimwear, pantsuits, new shoes, new purses for weeks preceding take off at BNA. When she returned from the beauty shop the day before the trip her bouffant was so huge, it could almost touch both sides of the door. We were impressed. We watched her pack and wanted to jump in the suitcase and go with her and Teamster Daddy as we had accompanied them on many "grievance committee" trips to the sandy beaches of Biloxi and beyond. We couldn't wait for her to come home and unpack to hear the stories she would tell us about what seemed to us to be the Teamster World Convention.

Teamster Parents were staying at the Stardust, the bomb in the Vegas hey-days, before it faded into high rolling memories and replaced by the Venetian, Bellagio, Ritz-Carlton, Hard Rock and Treasure Island. The King of Rock n Roll himself was the main headliner, Celine was a mere child then and Elton was just coming into or out of his own, they had not yet moved to town. Vegas was being driven by an entirely different life force. Teamsters knew how to party long before the second coming of the self-proclaimed Rat Pack.

As an aside, this Teamster Daughter must interject that Teamster Wife was in no way considered a Teamster Mom because she was Teamster Wife first and foremost in her devotion to Teamster Daddy and took care of her Teamster Family so he could take care of his Teamster Brothers.

Teamster Wife knocked the socks off the Teamster Brass in Vegas. The blonde high school valedictorian, captain of the cheerleaders, Beta Club President and newspaper editor sporting her well-spoken southern drawl attracted plenty of attention to rising star (T-Daddy) from the SEC. She was the definition of a Teamster "trophy wife" and put the Teamster "other women (harlots i.e... mistresses)" to shame. She was invited to a dinner that Jo Hoffa would be attending. Teamster Wife had done well, it was an "honor" Teamster Daddy said, to be invited.

Teamster Wife said that when Jo Hoffa's car arrived, everyone got quiet and applauded her when she entered the room - it was like a God had descended she said. The place started buzzing and the party began. The lavish meal was easily $200 a plate, only the best for the Teamsters, desserts dished out by showgirls.

Doesn't everyone's parents have stories like this? When the ad company was batting around their brilliant idea for the Las Vegas' slogan they probably had Teamster Daddies like ours in mind. If they only knew!