Leaving Las Vegas...For Good

Why does experience have to take the shine off the penny? How amazing would it be if every time we looked at something beautiful, we felt as we did when we saw it for the first time?

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and it's one of many things that makes me sad. Take this last trip to Las Vegas, for example. We have been there a half a dozen times, and each time we go, we try to see something different, do something unusual. But each visit brings a little more distance, a little more disdain. The easy answer is that we are getting to old too enjoy it. But it's more than that. We see the same people, sitting at the same slot machines; the same dealers, handing out the same cards, killing themselves via their environment. We see the same casinos, the same peddlers with cards promising naked women and good times. I'm ready to leave after three days, and these people are living it every single day of their lives. But it's not all the same. We travelled from one end of the strip to the other to see the Star Trek Hilton, only to find that they had given up their rights to Star Trek and converted their casino into something much more ordinary. A sad day for us Star Trek fans. The amount of money that moves around in Las Vegas is beyond my comprehension. A friend explained that a new casino had been started, but when they got half way finished, they discovered that the builders had used the wrong kind of rebar, and the 40 story building would not be sound. So they stopped at 20 stories, and there the building sits, right in the middle of the strip, empty. Broke, they sold the building. The new owners liquidated the furniture, sold that furniture to another casino in a town up north (I had no idea they furnished these buildings as they build, but it makes sense, if you think about it...) and made back the ENTIRE cost of the building. Now, our friend says, the owner is thinking of flattening the building to free up the real estate. Incredible, when you think about how many people could eat for the cost of the supplies to build that mistake. Maybe it's knowledge that makes the familiar less beautiful. Knowing what I do about Vegas, and comparing that to my naivete the first time I visited, I can see that something is definitely lost. I suppose it's like a kid at Disneyland: part of the wonder is the lack of understanding and the lack of suspicion and doubt.

I guess wisdom hurts a little. And it's a real party pooper.