Vegas is definitely a place you can poke fun at. You can laugh at the two women who you are pretty sure are hookers (or is the modern accepted term escorts?) when you arrive in your hotel lobby. You can cringe at the signs vasectomy.com – It’s easier than you think…and Babes Delivered to your Door. Excess is everywhere. Rome called, they want their hedonistic culture back.
When you fly into Vegas, it is as if it has sprouted up out of the arid soil like some radioactive mushroom patch. As you get closer, you see the skyline of New York City, a pyramid with a column of light shining straight up from it, drilling into the clouds, a roller coaster spiraling through and around buildings, and everywhere lights…so many lights. I could say it looks like Christmas, but that would be to sanctify it too much…it’s more like a two-year-old’s Lite Bright play – clashing, cacophonous, and acidic. Overstimulation has a rapid onset. I imagine there aren’t many who can sleep here, like children on the night before a big event, but I do not have that problem. I am a bit out of place as a morning person, one who longs for trees, nature and blue skies. It’s a very interesting place to peep at, but I will be happy to head home and see Vegas in my rear-view mirror.
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