In Praise of Vegas

My Las Vegas-born husband did not like my last post, claiming that in it I bashed Las Vegas. I assured him that the stereotypes I discussed exist everywhere – they are just more prevalent in Las Vegas. But he still seemed miffed. And I don’t blame him – I don’t hide the fact that I don’t like Las Vegas and would rather live somewhere else. But because I am an optimist and always try to see the bright side, I sincerely would like to like Vegas. Seriously. I know that if we moved away, I would see more of Vegas’ virtues and I would miss certain things. So in honor of Las Vegas, and in an effort to appreciate it more, I will devote this week’s entry to trying to see its good points.

1. The first thing that comes to mind is that Las Vegas does not have many bugs. In the Midwest, it is impossible to sit outside at night near a light because of the huge swarm of ugly bugs that fly around. In Vegas, hardly anything comes near a light.

(I am trying very hard to avoid pointing out that the reason there are no bugs here is because nothing grows here for them to feed on. Oops…a negative about Vegas. I digress. I will avoid these for the rest of the post, because there is probably a “but” to everything I list.)

2. In Las Vegas, you can plan an outdoor event very easily. Wind is usually the only thing that might ruin outdoor plans. But generally, outdoor events like parades, festivals, and picnics are a great thing in Vegas. In fact, we love to go out to Spring Mountain Ranch in the summer to see their outdoor shows - they’re hardly ever canceled due to the weather.

(But this is because we never get rain, never have a thunderstorm, never have a good old cloudy-curl-up-at-home kind of day. And I LOVE rain! Oops. I did it again. I will keep the buts out, from now on.)

3. You can get anything you need at any time of the day in Vegas. Need a pair of shoes at 3am? Go to the 24-hour Target. Need more sugar at midnight? Go to the 24-hour grocery. Alcohol is sold on Sundays, and you can go to a movie at 2am. If you’re a night owl, Vegas is the place to live.

4. When the weather in Las Vegas gets too hot, Mt. Charleston is a short drive away. There, the temps are always at least 20 degrees cooler, so you can find relief in the summer or play in the snow in the winter. And it’s a tiny mountain community that provides a convenient getaway. How many other cities offer something so completely different, so close?

5. Because Las Vegas is a tourist destination, friends and family tend to visit more often.

6. Las Vegas is an open-minded city but also has a conservative side. Any type of person – any extreme – can find a community here.

7. Las Vegas is a major airline hub, so it’s easy to fly to any city. And the ocean is a four-hour drive away. A good weekend trip.

(I just noticed that two of my good points about Vegas are about getting out of town. Probably not the best things for this list.)

8. There is a huge amateur theatre community in Las Vegas, so anyone who wants to perform has an opportunity.

That’s honestly all I can think of. And I sincerely, honestly, am trying. Really. I may end up living here forever, so believe me, I really want to learn to love this place. I would love to have a list of reasons I like Las Vegas, without any "buts".
So, I beg of you, would you help me add to my list? I am a glass-half-full kind of a girl, and I truly want to love where I live. Please point out any of the good things that I may be missing! Thank you.

p.s. I thought of number nine on the way to work today. The view of the city in the morning is gorgeous, when the silhouette of the Strip’s buildings are hazy against the mountains in the distance, and the sky is huge and blue above it all. There is no “but” to this one.

George at 8,000 feet

I have lived in Las Vegas for almost fifteen years, and while I appreciate many things about it – fewer bugs, easier planning of outdoor events, and…okay that’s all I can think of right now – the Midwesterner in me desperately misses living somewhere with four seasons, trees, and real thunderstorms. So whenever I need to feel like I’m anywhere but the desert, my husband and I take a drive up to Mt. Charleston, a little mountain town only a thirty-minute drive from our house.

The drive out of town takes you past the last subdivision of Vegas’ cookie cutter houses, where desert shrubs dot the landscape across the expanse of valley, until you take a left at the sign pointing to Mt. Charleston. This two-lane highway twists and curves across the desert, and Lance and I always marvel at the houses out there. They really are in the middle of nowhere – ranches and modern houses with no neighbors and no trees - so stark and lonely as we fly by with George’s head sticking out the window.

Soon the drive gets curvier, the shrubs taller, and the distant mountains bigger until you finally reach the little mountain community in the desert. They have a fire department, elementary school, library, and church, but no grocery or gas station. Their houses are cabins nestled in the trees in the valley or perched on the side of the mountain far above, accessible only by scarily-steep roads with names like Kris Kringle Road and Jack Frost Drive.

Lance and I always drive to the very end of the highway, which climbs and ends at Mt. Charleston Lodge, where we have breakfast in the A-frame restaurant. This week we took George with us and sat at an outdoor table with a complete view of the tree-covered mountains around us (I like to pretend we’re at a lodge in the Alps.). This is where I come in October to smell the Fall air and see true Autumn color while Las Vegas is still in its Summer. (Fall-ish weather comes to Vegas in December!) Or we’ll drive up in January and throw snowballs so I can feel like it’s Winter. Or in the summer we’ll drive up and hike one of the many trails to escape Vegas’ hot months. On the trails, just 100 yards off the road all sounds of traffic are gone, leaving only birds chirping and the wind in the trees.

One Spring, desperate for an escape from the city, I drove up to Mt. Charleston and hiked on a path for a while with George. The snow was still lying in the shadows of the trees, so I had to step gingerly to avoid slipping. Finally I found a thick patch of snow covering a dry river bed, so thick it made a mattress in the sun. I took off my coat, laid it on the snow, and then laid down on it while George looked at me like I was crazy. But it was great. I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face and the cool snow through my jacket, and I laid there for a long time, trying to absorb the nature around me.

Lance and I ate our breakfast in our mountaintop seats and then took George for a walk around the Lodge, past the horses waiting for carriage rides and Native Americans selling jewelry, and through the small side streets lined with tall poles that in the winter let people know where the roads are when they’re covered with feet of snow.

George’s head was out the window of my car for the whole drive back to town. For a few hours, we had mountains, birds, towering trees, and an occasional chipmunk. Where do you go to escape?