There is a feeling I get whenever I arrive in Las Vegas, something that I don’t often experience. It’s the feeling that I’m home. That all is right with the world and I am, at that moment, exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’ve never lived there. My experiences there are limited to a trip when I was 10 and three great trips in the second half of this year alone. Yet when I visit, I always feel like I’m coming home. I feel more right there than I do in either of the two places I’ve lived my life. I see that green monster that is the MGM Grand and I can’t help but get a feeling of serenity.
The reason for this is simple. Every trip I’ve taken, I’ve had the oportunity to hang out with some awesome people. From WPBT events to trips on my own where I manage to meet up with a few friends, I’ve always been fortunate enough to feel completely loved, welcomed, and accepted while there. Association is a pretty powerful thing, so it’s no surprise really that Las Vegas becomes my favorite place in the world. Sure, I’ve had my share of down times there too, but even in the midst of those, I never lose that sense of peace.
I can never sleep in Vegas. I can come home at 6am, having been up for 20 hours, and still toss and turn before falling asleep. It’s the knowledge that mere feet away from me, chips are being flung, cards are being dealt, and people are having the times of their lives. For someone who is almost too intuned to other’s emotions, restlessness can’t help but follow. The feeling that I have to make the most of every minute I have there causes me to wake up after just 4 hours of sleep and start my day – something I can never do at home.
I cry every time I leave. I sit in my little window seat over the wing (less bumps that way) and look out the window to catch one last glimpse of the Strip as the plane departs. I go through emotions similar to that of post-partum depression, so much so that a song from a mix CD given to me by a new friend can cause me to burst into tears driving home from Adam’s. (Track 10, John). The dog would probably have looked at me like I was crazy was he not too busy snubbing me for taking him away from the Vegas that he apparently loves. For the record, he came home and cried too.
For a lot of people, mainly those who have lived there, the city is known for its dark side. For sure, it can eat a person up and spit them out broke in more ways than one. But as Bob identified, the city has another side to it as well – the side that can lift a person up and give them a brief moment of joy. Or in the case of hanging out with you people, moment after moment after moment.
I just wanted to say thank you.