Las Vegas: sin city, part one

this is a quickie post since i'm writing against a clock. the past few days have reminded me how surreal las vegas is to me. my dad digs this city, one of my closest friends and ex-roommates is from here and all i can say to that is, "how?" i'm sure it will be a benefit of getting older- mellowing out, but for now i remain sometimes absurdly opinionated.

walking back to my casino, i am accosted by strange men at least once, which as a female traveling alone is very disconcerting. as i weave my way through the throngs of people, i hear the now familiar thwack, coming from silent workers, standing on the curb, passing out photos of nude women. a colleague and i were discussing the proliferation of good chefs setting up shop here and i pose the adage with a new twist, "just because you have money does not mean you have a palate." i can only imagine how the pearls are tossed out and the swine greedily gather because it's the "hip" place to go, not because the rack of lamb is garnished with harissa and a carrot hummus.

the venetian has beautiful areas inside and i am amazed at the ability to copy the known and beloved pieces of architecture from europe. but this leads to my bigger dilemma- with las vegas and a fake champs elysee, no wonder so few americans feel the need to get a passport or travel and see the real thing.

so in closing, my beef with vegas is i want to see the real thing or do i? one random act of kindness in a swarm of greed and gluttony would be nice. i keep thinking i could smile at one of the silent workers, but they don't look back and my smile won't help them pay the bills.