Thursday, December 6, 2012

What Happens in Vegas

It's called a Love Unit...and I was so taken with it, I didn't even get a photo to share.

It's an $18 martini made with - oh, I don't know - fresh red bell pepper juice and Thai basil?  It was delicious.  I had two.  They were cocktails number 3 and 4 of the day.  And it was only 6 pm.  I think I stopped at drink number 5, which was a 20-ounce rum laced slurpee with a big, fat straw.  Oh, oops...I'm forgetting the shared hot saki nightcap I had over two $20 sushi rolls...

Does it bother me that I spent more money hitting the refresh button on a low Vegas buzz yesterday than many of the world's families have to spend on food for a month?  Well...yes. Did that stop me from convincing myself it was fun anyway? Apparently not.

Nor did I have trouble finding myself a great bargain on a dress that is 100% sequins (can you say 100% frivolous?).  I talked myself into believing the dress was a must-have steal, even though I bought it at a store I would consider a place for unusual indulgence if I'd been at home.

But I'm not home.  I'm walking past stores like Gucci and Chanel and Armani and Fendi.  White House/Black Market and Anthropologie feel a bit like the Walmarts of the strip in Las Vegas.

It appears I have completely surrendered to the insanity of it all.

I also realize today that I have not thought beyond once about turning the thermostat to 60-degrees if my hotel room feels a bit stuffy.  I have not hesitated to drop a towel used only once onto the marble floor as a message to our lovely housekeeper that I require fresh towels every day.  I have not even tried to find a recycling bin for my daily copy of the New York Times.

I am squandering. My personal resources and the world's. I wish I could tell you I am not goofy with delight over it all. Like a 4-year old at an amusement park, I am running from one thing to the next like there will be no tomorrow to reckon with...as if nothing at all is real in this Las Vegas bubble.

The blue skies inside the hotels are not real...


The volcanoes are not real....


The canals are not real...


The architectural wonders of the world are not real...


The promises of riches are not real...



It is all so phony, I found myself scoffing at a couple posed for a photo yesterday under a palm tree while a bird's song just above their heads perfectly enhanced the scene.  As the pair searched the thick foliage overhead for the source of the noise making bird, I thought: "These silly people haven't figured out it's just a speaker and a birdlike thing in that tree."

Imagine my surprise when the fake feathered friend dropped out of the tree and came my way begging for breadcrumbs...

Reality - at the end of these days in Las Vegas - is sure to come begging, and I will not be able to honestly feign surprise. Real people will still be hungry in this world. Real consequences of wastefulness will still be clear. Real work will have to be done to earn real money.  Real bills will need to be paid.

The brighter side?  The martinis will not cost $18.

Peace.  

1 comment:

David Chapman said...

I can get you a picture of it...