We went to Las Vegas last week. I think the last time I was there was when I was a little boy and my dad drove us through the city and had us look at the "wages of sin". He warned my brother and I that the Devil was alive and working overtime in this city.
What I took away from the city this time is that it is all make believe. My daughter who didn't go with us, thought it was unfair that I got to see the Eiffel tower. I had to tell her that I didn't, that it was just a model. Moving through the casinos was an awe inspiring experience, and I had to continue to tell myself that we were in Vegas. No matter how elegant the entrances were when you got to the heart of the building there were the ubiquitous slot machines with the lonely souls communing with them, praying for a gift. It was a sobering reminder of why they were there.
Out on the strip, bored looking immigrants snapped smut our way. Men and women in florescent t-shirts promoted strippers, waving cards with seductive women on the front promising satisfaction, attempting to shove it in our hands. Our shoes trampled hundreds of discarded photos, making it a sobering reminder that these women are devalued in so many ways. I had to remind myself that we were in Vegas and that it was make-believe.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment