Las Vegas

I’ve got some friends who’re trying to get me to go holiday in Vegas this winter, but I’m not buying it. It’s kind of a cruise to get out there, even starting in Santa Barbara instead of San Diego (not that the drive is such a huge deal in itself—it’s a longer trip across the Atlantic, with less to look at, and I’ll always jump at that particular chance) and it’s in the middle of the desert (but the scenery is admittedly pretty satisfying to look at).

My biggest objections, though, are this: (#1) I’ve already been there, and (#2) everything that makes Vegas such a great getaway can be done almost anywhere else. Santa Barbara is for partying. We can catch shows in L.A. or San Diego. UCSB has pools and perfect weather to lounge in. Chumash has gambling.

Now, admittedly, Caesar’s Palace looks pretty cool. Luxor, too. I just returned from north Las Vegas yesterday and wish I’d had a chance to wander around those two resorts a bit just to look at the decorations. Maybe Excalibur, too, though I sort of remember it—my family stayed there for a few days back when I was closer to ten than twenty.

Vegas is an interesting city, though, and sort of reminds me of eastern Europe in a few respects. The parts that everybody sees (downtown Prague, Budapest, and even Athens’ plaka district) are gorgeous and glitzy and enchanting. The rest… not so much.

Vegas was hit very hard by the recession. It’s got the worst housing rates in the entire country—oops, the rental houses that were supposed to pay for university/retirement/whatever are underwater!—and unemployment is high. The population has dropped by more than 35% in the last decade as people scrabble to escape.

All that shows. It’s visible the moment we step off the strip. Neon lights dim, the dust that seemed like such a trifle at the poolside bar suddenly chokes, and everyone around us is sunburned and slouching under the weight of this month’s rent.

Money troubles look the same across the world, I guess.