Las Vegas

[Beyond the Bets]

a good friend of mine called me yesterday, and i hadn't talked to him in several months. the first thing he asked me, and this of course is the first question that EVERYBODY asks me, is "how's vegas?"

my response was a familiar one, the same one that i give everybody that asks me how vegas is. "well, it's good and bad," i said. "you know, it's really a depressing town. the people here are isolationists. they keep to themselves. they aren't talkative. they aren't particularly friendly. it can get hot, and it can get cold, but regardless of the weather, most people will stay inside, shades drawn, living in their own little world while secluding everybody else around them. unless i pick up a phone, i can go days or weeks without a decent conversation, and so that kind of sucks."

"so you hate it," my friend said.

and it's strange: i suddenly got somewhat defensive of vegas.

"well no," i said. "of course i don't hate it. i mean, there is also a lot of good here in vegas. there is a world of opportunity here. i've lived in smaller towns, as you know, both in the east and the midwest, and the small-time thinking, the lack of direction, the complacency, the willingness to settle, all those things drove me crazy. they infuriated me. here, i don't see complacency. i see struggle, i see people scraping to get by, i see beggars, i see hustlers, i see gamblers, i see competitors. but no, i don't see complacency."

"so you like it or hate it?" my friend asked.

"it's weird," i said. "i like it. the first month i was here, i loved it. i went to the strip a few times a week, everything was new, the people were different, yes, but they were fun and they were friendly and they were enjoying the town."

"and now they're miserable?"

"no," i said. "i think i just perceive them to be miserable. because maybe, after awhile, vegas can make you miserable. maybe, if you start doing what everybody else does - if you start keeping to yourself, if you take on a negative attitude, if you lose sight of hope and opportunity and focus on all the bad, the evil, the struggle - maybe you kind of become like them."

last night, i could not sleep. i tossed and i turned and the weather, you can feel it, it's getting warmer. it was 2 am, then it was 3 am, then it was 4 am. i decided to get up. by 5:30, i was out the door, running in empty streets. the sun was up - or at least it was almost up - and man, would you look at that? there are mountains around me, really tall mountains, and if you didn't know better, you'd think you were on LOST in one of those dharma houses.

the shades were drawn on every house i passed. there were no cars, no walkers, no dogs barking. complete and total silence. i moved from the sidewalk into the street, and i was listening to springsteen, and i began running faster, then faster still, and thunder road came on.

thunder road is my favorite song, and it's a song that has taken on different meanings for me over the years. i have listened to that song 1,000 times, maybe 2,500 times, and i've still never tired of it.

it's a song of hope, of possibility, of taking chances.

when i moved to vegas seven months ago, thunder road was actually the first song that came on as i rolled into town. it wasn't a total surprise: i have 65 versions of it loaded on my iPod. but even so, i thought it was kind of neat. and fitting, too, because i was ready to embrace vegas and all it had to offer, and i had pulled out of my previous town "to win," and on and on and on.

i don't know what happened over the last few months. it's hard for me to explain it. i don't know if vegas "got to me," or if i simply "gave up" on vegas, or what.

but this morning, running in empty streets, thunder road on, i started to feel like i did back when i first arrived.

i was hopeful, full of energy and everything seemed new.