Visiting relatives. 

That’s what I told people. 

Quite literally, visiting relatives who live in Vegas.

This was my first time to Vegas.  The overblown, the understated and the cutting edge.

I’m still processing all that I saw.  And all that I heard.  The heart pounding rhythms of Cirque de Soleil shows.  The sun drenching heat of desert lands.

Vegas is bigger than life.  A tower, or two or five or ten reaching far into the sky.  Death defying trapeze acts.  Casino bells and whistles amidst studious faces attempting to defy the odds.

My thoughts are summed up in a phrase that I heard constantly playing in my ears – “This is Vegas.”

Vegas is a core, a strip of urban property literally called the Vegas Strip.  That property is surrounded by the normal, the hum drum, the sub-urb.  The daily life of the suburbs seldom touches the Strip.  But the Strip seems to flow underneath the floating connections of each day. 

I wonder. . .

Is this desert oasis a crafted mirage or a portent of the future?