Shortly before leaving for Cali, I had gotten a phone call from an old high school friend. This is no mean feat, because I actually went to high school in Berlin Germany! Only one of my friends from high school and I are still in touch; she and I have been lifelong friends and she lives in Pennsylvania. FYI: I will be visiting with her, next. And now, there's Eva!
So, when Eva said she had just moved to Vegas, I fairly jumped at the chance to go see her. Vegas is only 5 hours by car from where the kids live in SoCal, and my son happens to love going to Vegas anyway, so when I pitched the idea to him he was eager for the road trip.
He arranged his work schedule so that he got off at 2:00pm, and swapped cars with his buddy - his car is too unreliable. I packed an overnight bag for me and my grandson, and soon enough we were on the road. I drove because my son was exhausted.
The only event of note on the way was the burning bus. By the time we encountered it, night had fallen, and I didn't know what was burning a quarter-mile ahead, I just knew it was straddling the highway and it was burning. All of the cars ahead of me shut of their lights and engine; I did the same. My son soon woke up and joined me on the side of the road.
You know, its funny how a seeminly deserted highway can fill up! Soon enough there were miles of cars and several people contemplating the nature of the disaster they were privileged to witness, and how long they would be stranded. I contemplated the stars. The lack of light pollution lent me a rare opportunity to see clearly and I was awed by the Milky Way, the Big Dipper and other constellations. In my rush to get to Vegas, I nearly forgot to take time out to look at the stars. Don't we all forget to look up as we rush here and there?
Soon enough the highway was cleared and we started the engines. As we passed the burning bus, we hoped that no one was hurt, and that whoever was on the bus wouldn't be stranded forever on this desolate road.
My excitement grew as I saw the lights of Vegas in the distance! I had never been there, and so many people love it, rave about it, swear it must be a destination for everyone at some time in their life. My time had come.
As I eased the car into traffic on the strip, I looked around with eyes wide with wonder. This was Vegas! This was The Strip! This was the vacation destination of millions of people worldwide!
Vegas has a pound and beat that is almost audible. It has an energy that draws you in in spite of yourself. One cannot be a casual observer in Vegas; one way or another you become a part of the city, if only for a short while.
Strangely enough, Vegas reminded me of Beijing. The same pulsing energy, the same throngs of people everywhere, the same drawing-in and the same feeling of inexplicable awe - this feeling of being a part of being something huge. As I drove the strip for the first time, my eyes were everywhere, but my thoughts were in China, where I had experienced this vital, moving energy once before.
Yet it seemed to me, Vegas has a whisper of sadness running through it. It is not just a tourist town, it is a place where people live their life, usually earning in a year less than some spend hoping to hit the big one. It is a place where dreams come true, but also where, more often, you hear those dreams shattering magnificently or whimpering a quiet death. It is mecca for gamblers and those who wish to break into show business. It is Endgame for performers who have already experienced the peak of their career but are not done entertaining: Cher, Barry Manilow and others.
By daylight, Vegas is a dirty city. Not because people don't ever clean it, but because it is an oasis in the desert. The pavement gets so hot it buckles under the weight of the busses, the pedestrian marks disappear under the bubbling asphalt, the gum (or other ejected body fluids) drying is grayish lumps on the sidewalks and gutters. There is a quiet desperation in the unfinished construction, in the casinos that sell beer 24 hours a day, in the people that partake of that beer and of the casino activities. By daylight, it is too hot to walk in Vegas, so most people don't see this part. But at night... Oh, the blessed night! Under the blanket of now invisible stars, how Vegas glitters, promises and witholds, drawing in again and again those whose imagined fortunes await!
Even though looking up or ahead is the prime directive in Vegas (besides spend, spend, spend, that is), one should look down at the curbs, to see the homeless and the dejected sitting there, their dreams gone, their survival questionable, their existence not to be denied.
Yes, there is a sadness in Vegas.
However, the reunion with my friend was joyous, loud, and all too short. Eva, when will we have this chance again?
On the way back my son and I looked for the charred carcass of our burning bus. It had already been removed.
A very befitting description of Vegas. But the overlooked misery of the stranded is part of most, if not all big cities, I believe. And the larger than usual transient population due to the nature of Vegas would emphasize this problem. But the mild temps once the heat breaks, the glitter, the desert sky, the stars and performers, let people forget about reality for awhile.
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