I checked out Minus 5 Ice Lounge, the new everything-is-frozen vodka bar at Mandalay Place. It is located right near the House of Blues end of Mandalay Bay. Admission includes a drink ticket and the loan of a parka, hat and gloves. Inside, everything -- the bar, the seats, the walls -- is made of ice. The temperature is kept at 27 degrees Fahrenheit with zero moisture so you don't stick to anything. In addition to the bar, Minus 5 seems to have an ample side business in selling tourists photos of themselves, heavily covered, standing next to slightly dressed hostesses. You cannot bring your own camera inside (or cellphone), because allegedly the cold could destroy the electronics. I suspect it also helps with the monopoly on the photos, which were taken by an employee, whom I asked what was so special about her camera: "It's a Nikon," she said. So, there you go. Buffet photographer Sarah Gerke uses Canon; rather than argue the point,  I asked Gerke simply to shoot the entrance.

Anyway, as you can imagine, the expense to keep a room that frozen in the middle of the desert of Las Vegas means this is not one of the larger bars in Vegas. But, for comfort and safety, guests are allowed only a 30-minute visit. So, it was not that crowded while I was there, and it was easy to explore without a wait to get inside. Also, you are allowed no more than three drinks. I think I would classify Minus 5 as much as an attraction as a bar. You go to Minus 5 for the experience and not to watch football on a television (of which there is no ice version in the bar).

OK, so here is the part where I do something that is really stupid. Not drinking seems to have been key to the problem. The hostess felt I needed to lick something-- since I was not having a drink --to test the zero humidity, making sure my tongue wouldn't stick. There were ice-sculpture decorations, and I was urged to lick an Elvis. Then, for some reason, I let the Minus 5 employee persuade me to lick the wall. It was a quick lick; that is the best I can say for myself. And my idiocy was rewarded with her telling me: "Carrot Top licked the wall at the same spot. I have photos of him. Do you want to see them?"

No, I did not want to see them. I needed to be at home just then with mouthwash and toothbrush. But at 27 degrees Fahrenheit any Carrot Top germs would be dead, right?

Photo credit: Sarah Gerke

Tonight is the grand opening of Michael Mina's Strip Steak restaurant inside Mandalay Bay. At 7 p.m., there is a VIP party with free food and drink and a house DJ. Then at 9, Thunderball performs.

I'll be long gone by then. In fact, the only reason I am going to drop in on Strip Steak at all is because I'll be at Mandalay Bay anyway to see a free "Crossroads" acoustic series concert at House of Blues at 9 p.m. Stephanie Jordan is performing. Jordan's day job is as singer in the topless show "Fantasy" at the Luxor. After seeing it, I have only two good words to say about "Fantasy": Stephanie Jordan.

During "Fantasy," Jordan is not a topless showgirl. She wears sexy outfits while she does karaoke of dull songs like "Black Velvet," "Lady Marmalade" and "Roxanne." Yet, despite the context and the material, I was thrilled by Jordan's voice. Samples of her original material can be heard on her MySpace page. The samples offered, like "Lady Dancer" and "Door to Yesterday," show that Jordan makes her own brooding and sultry music that I am sure rips hard live. In fact, "Fantasy" could be vastly improved by having her sing those songs.

Anyway, maybe the folks who are signing Vegas acts like Panic! at the Disco and The Killers should consider the vast reservoir of diva talent in Las Vegas that includes Jordan as well as Nicole Sottile, who used to front local rockers Mama Zeus.

Memories of young love. One of the first, if not the first, public date that Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson had was at Tiger Jam in April 2001 at Mandalay Bay, a concert to support the Tiger Woods Foundation held annually in Vegas. Rock wasn't scheduled to perform that night, but John Mellencamp was and I was taken to a greenroom to await my moment to interview Mellencamp.

As I waited for Mellencamp's attention, I saw Kid Rock, who I knew slightly from a couple Grammy parties, in a corner with a beer in one hand and Pamela Anderson on his lap. He wasn't set to perform so no one else seemed to notice him and there was no publicist guarding him.

I actually find Rock's company relaxing. One year at the Grammy Awards he asked me to hang out with his mom while he did an interview for MTV. "She's just like Madonna," Rock told me. "Mrs. Ritchie." I like this guy. So, I went to wait with Rock and Anderson. Rock was in full courting mode, singing the opening line of one of David Allen Coe's notorious XXX-rated songs to his new girlfriend — one that proclaimed in detail a very specific kind of sex act he wished to perform on Anderson. She was totally charmed.

Interestingly, when I was then led to Mellencamp's dressing room for the actual interview, before we started, I had to hear Mrs. John Mellencamp give an earful to her husband about the trampy looking girl. Clearly neither of them recognized Anderson. But Mellencamp for his part said he hadn't noticed her either. It was a very diplomatic comment, considering I watched him notice her in great detail.

He also told me he didn't know much about Kid Rock though Rock made a cameo onstage that night to sing, I think, "Pink Houses" or "Small Town" with him. The other memory I have of that night is that Mellencamp was one touchy interview. After a few abrupt answers he lit a cigarette. I remember asking him if he was surprised to find himself smoking again after having already had a heart attack. Wow, did he go off on my perceived slight. He told me that no one without his number of hit singles, his number of hit albums, his number of fans should be lecturing him about his smoking. And by the way, how many doctors have ever had a hit record?

(Photo: Peter Morgan / Reuters)