| 14 may 2001 | let there be light WELL, here I am in Las Vegas! I come to you today twelve smackeroos richer--yeah, baby. Nickel slots. Uh-huh. There's nothing like carrying a big bucket full of nickels or quarters to make you feel all rich and stuff. You stroll around with that, "you guessed it, Skippy. Kimmy needs a new pair of fuzzy dice" look on your face. This is quite a place. I don't know quite where to begin, but my incoming flight should do. So between...uh...barf sessions on the plane (me, flying, yarg); I took an occasional peek out the window. I had a late-night flight from Charlotte, and between Arkansas and Vegas is pretty much nothing. Total pitch blackness outside, which frankly was fine with me. Though I was kind of bummed that I wouldn't be able to see Area 51, poo. Anyway, so I'm yacking and looking and yacking and looking some more, when the darkness abruptly crosses into the Land O' Neon. One moment, there is absolutely nothing but the silhouette of horizon in the distance. Suddenly, you see what is truly a line in the Mojave sand--a long line of lights that begins your descent into Las Vegas. On a clear night from your plane, you can see and IDENTIFY most of the big hotels in this city. I could instantly locate New York, New York, the Mirage, Paris, and Caesar's Palace. You cannot miss "the strip" as you fly into here--it's blinking. Discovery number one: The city of Las Vegas is a big, metropolitan strobe light. Everything is blinking. So I deboard the plane. I'm still dizzy and sick, but pretty jazzed to be here and seeing Mom and Kelli soon. I walk into the terminal and, if I was not paying attention, would have smacked right into a bank of slot machines. Right on! Something to do while waiting for your pals! Forget passing the time reading a day-old USA Today . Blinking, dinging things in the terminal to pass the time--woo-hoo! Your buddy's flight is late? Right on! But there was no playing for me. I had to find a limo (that's right, L-I-M-O) to Circus Circus. If you're staying in any of the hotels on the strip, believe it or not, limos are the cheapest, fastest way to get there. The drivers get four or five passengers in there, drive you through town, and drop everyone off at their respective hotels--for four bucks. So you get not only a ride, but a great tour as well. I was struck by a lot of things as I rode through town. Namely, there is not a bulb out in this city. Not one. No cheesy half-burbling neon lights on signs or buildings. No interrupted light bulb rows. Nothing of the sort. Sunglasses at night? Not entirely inappropriate. Especially if you've just spent the last four hours sick and miserable, and now your head hurts, and...well, you know. Gugh. One thing that also caught my eye was the juxtaposition of swanky and seedy. This isn't the case on the Strip so much--most everything here is billion-dollar real estate. But just outside of the primary tourist areas tell an interesting story. Next to a theatre may well be a pawn shop. A respectable mid-scale hotel is sandwiched between two gentlemen's clubs. Five-dollar t-shirt shops appear sporadically no matter where you go. McDonalds' golden arches are not the standard one-piece yellow panel, but are shaped from innumerable blinking yellow and red bulbs. Directly below the Harrah's Casino sign is a flashing Denny's sign. So fast-forward to today, when we dove right in and did a little bit of everything. Namely, scoping out wedding chapels, newlyweds, and the Elvis impersonators that married them. Did I succeed in the first day of my mission? You bet I did! So far, I've got stealth photos of four wedding chapels, three couples walking freely about in their betrothin' duds, and one marrying Elvis. A few appear on the site here. You want to stroll around in your wedding gown all evening? No problem. Vegas is the place to do it. More tomorrow. Full-on jetlag is sinking me deeper into the couch. Everything is blinking. Except, at the moment, my eyelids. 'Night. |
