from guacamole to sushi

Before my trip to Las Vegas, I told people who asked why I was going when I hated it so much the first time that I was following The Guacamole Rule™: every now and then I retry things I don’t like, just to be sure I still don’t like them. So from this perspective, my trip to Vegas was a complete success – I came back no longer loathing the city and having great memories of the five days there.

But I can’t say I’m in a hurry to go back any time soon.

Vegas is a place with no sense of history or even of the future. Vegas focuses on the now, the moment and the moment just around the corner. It is all that matters.

That’s not meant as a slam. OK, maybe just a little. I always hear people talking about living in the moment, blah blah blah and here I was, in a city that does nothing but live in the moment and it left me feeling empty. Not while I was enjoying myself, pogoing in the dueling piano bar or eating the world’s largest slab of meat or snapping photos of the faux Eiffel Tower behind the faux Arc de Triomphe or watching the spectacle of the Bellagio fountains. But in-between those moments (and there wasn’t much in-between with our breakneck schedule), when the spectacle faded and we waited for the next big moment, the stillness left me with a longing for something deeper. It’s probably why there are so many lights and sounds happening at once in Vegas, to keep that emptiness at bay.

I realize this is oxymoronic: “So basically you’re saying you had a great time except for when you weren’t having a great time.” I know. I did have a great time in those moments. But, to use a cliché, the whole is far less than the sum of its parts. My highlight of the entire trip was our “side trip” to the Grand Canyon (I’m not sure how side it can actually be when it takes you nearly five hours to get there). Standing there on the edge – well, as close to the edge as I could get without succumbing to vertigo – I experienced a moment I know will not fade any time soon. I felt all the moments of my life coming together, all those leading up to that Thursday afternoon and all those coming after. I experienced a contentment so often missing in my life. I knew this was where I was meant to be, the right time, the right place, breathing in the grandeur. All the great moments in Vegas cannot compare to the few hours spent at the Grand Canyon. It’s a stark contrast I can’t seem to escape. Vegas is transitory, man’s monument to instant gratification; the Grand Canyon is timeless, God’s monument to the power of time.

My first time in Vegas was too short, a smattering of hours on my first journey to the west coast. I lacked the opportunity to see anything but the mind-numbing glitz and the lost souls basking in its glow. My second trip was a touch too long. This time I saw beneath the glitz and the glow, only to discover it held little for me. I don’t gamble. I don’t drink. I don’t enjoy crowds. I don’t find great pleasure in staring at half-naked strangers. Not that there’s anything wrong with these things, they just aren’t who I am.

And I have to admit, the hypersexual nature of the strip bothered me. I know it’s the bread and butter of Vegas, what with the showgirls and sex ads and entertainment like Zumanity (Cirque’s “adult” show). But as a lonely bachelor with morals, I felt like I was trapped in that song by The Tubes. My eyes wandered and dragged my thoughts along for the ride. Most of the time I am able to ignore this aspect of my loneliness, the longing for physical contact. But in Vegas it was impossible to get away from and served to make me hyper-aware of just how long it’s been.

So while I no longer hate Vegas, it’s not something I see myself doing on a regular basis. My metaphor has morphed a bit – no longer do I see Vegas as guacamole. Now it’s more like sushi. I’ve only really had sushi once in my life, on my last trip to NYC while visiting my friend Jennifer (who hasn’t talked to me since…hmmm….). I enjoyed it while I was eating it, but I never crave sushi. And I know I only enjoyed the one time I had it because Jennifer took me and did all the ordering. I could never go on my own. Likewise, I don’t ever see myself going on my own to Vegas. Maybe in another decade I’ll try again, just to make sure I still don’t like it. Don’t they use guacamole in sushi sometimes?
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tunes: king's x - everywhere i go