Newark, Saturday, 2 June 2007, 18:45 p.m. EST

Flying from Newark to McCarran and very excited, as are about 99.9% of all travelers to Sin City.  Security was standard, code orange, but nothing outrageous or too cumbersome.  As per usual, the cost of everything (snack-wise) is exorbitant: The Universal Dictate of Airports – Where Prices are Subject to Whim.  Seinfeld said it best!

The flight itself is not so smooth.  An unruly oafish woman sitting in the aisle and occupying two seats.  She must have attention deficit hyperactivity disorder because she will not stop moving and fidgeting.  Unfortunately, she smacks her lips when she eats and keeps her mouth wide open when masticating on the few morsels that make there way inside.  The rest (run for their lives) fall off onto Mark’s lap and shirt.  Oh my, her arms do keep slapping Mark in the face!  What a nightmare…trying to stay positive…it will be wonderful to get to Vegas and enjoy a real adventure!  It will be fun!  It has to be!

Feeling a bit uneasy with the turbulence, will pass on food and beverages.  Good for Mark – will give my share to him.  No pretzels, no peanuts, no snacks on this flight because they are serving a meal.  No problem – avoid the exchange-factor during turbulence.

Las Vegas, Saturday, 2 June 2007, 21:30 p.m. PST

Touch down!  Safely on the ground again – now to pick up luggage and start the fifteen (15) hour adventure that is Sin City.  Can not check into the hotel until noon Sunday, so we are truly going to test out this 24-7-365 City!

In a cab on the way to our hotel to check-in our luggage.  Interesting conversation.  Just within the past twenty (20) years, Vegas has become increasingly violent with one in five being shot!  The police not only are no-nonsense ‘strictly by the book’ but also are apparently very gun-happy.  Oh no.  Has this city become it’s own dictate?  Hopefully not – need to remember to get another opinion.

At the hotel, they immediately greet you and lure you to a counter for ‘free gifts’ just for being a guest.  Ok.  We follow the lady unsuspectingly.  No free gifts.  Just an offer for timeshares.

After checking in our luggage, paying a generous tip (anti-theft insurance), and getting a bit of a breather, we venture onto the Strip.

The Strip, Saturday, 2 June 2007, 22:50 p.m. PST

It is a desert warmth but not dry by any means.  There is actual humidity in the air – and it is a thick sticky dampness – completely unexpected, but nothing compared to Florida heat!  We don’t mind it at all because we are staying positive! 

Aaaahhhhh!!!! The fortunate happenstance! An actual bobba café (Taiwanese iced tea drink with tapioca pearls, comes in a variety of flavors, extremely refreshing and very fun to drink/eat – a definite must at least once in your lifetime!!!)  I order my usual favorite, green tea jasmine with pearls and nonfat milk, hold the ice.  Comes back a disaster.  Not at all the way you get in Taiwan – or even in New York and Los Angeles where they sell the same drink – tastes worse than it looks.  I ask the girl who made it for a refund and she actually yells at me, telling me that I don’t know what I want, I wasted a tea bag, and they do not do refunds.  She is very violent and angry, taking personal offense and clearly overreacting.  I then ask if they make a ‘regular’/’generic’ bobba tea and I ask for that instead.  Not bad, but it is not made the way it should be made – shaken and with the proper syrups and tea combinations – but I remain silent.  I do not want to complain or read into the unfortunate incident, but this does not look like a good start.  Stay positive, stay positive…move onto the strip – maybe I will still have time to make it to the Bellagio shops…Chanel here I come!!!!

Yes!  Made it in time!!!  Now I know I must not be materialistic.  Detachment, detachment, detachment.  But Chanel, Dior, Tiffanys, Armani, Fendi, Hermes.  This is pure unadulterated joy.  What a rush! 

The Bellagio, Sunday, 3 June 2007, 01:50 a.m. PST

The shops are closed.  Time now until noon to enjoy whatever is still open.  We decide to stay at The Bellagio.  They have an atrium of fresh flowers open 24 hours and a café in that atrium also open 24 hours.  Perfect!

After about one hour of walking around the atrium, we find nearby seating.  As we rest, we realize that it is increasingly turning from cool to arctic.  Interesting trick: blast the a/c to cut-short the loitering and pump up the atmosphere instead in the gambling and shopping areas. 

We will endure!  It’s us against the a/c and we will be victorious (with the help of some scalding hot tea and coffee)!  Onto the atrium café…

As with most attractions, there is a line.  We wait patiently, but can not mistake the fact that the Hostess is deliberately ignoring us.  After about 25 minutes of her snobbery, Mark takes a stand and demands to be seated because we have more-than-waited our turn in a ‘line’ that does not follow the consecutive order rule.  She immediately slaps back an attitude, but seats us nonetheless. 

Mark orders a reuben and I a much-needed hot tea.  Perfect opportunity for a second opinion courtesy our waiter, Mike McMurphy.  Yes, confirmation that the City is increasingly violent and the police are relentless…and it is very difficult to get a waitering position because of the necessary union membership and three different cards you must obtain before even applying!  Just as we think this does not look good, Mike tells us that they are short-staffed and are hiring.  Imagine to work at Bellagio!!!!!  One word: lucrative!  Mike goes on to get Mark an application and as he does, we notice he stops to speak with the same Hostess that ignored us.

She takes a glance over at Mark and Mike goes on to attend to his other tables.  After 30 minutes, he returns to ours and suggests to Mark to try the Venetian, Caesar’s Palace, or the Hard Rock.  No Bellagio application, no reference to the open jobs, and not so kind as before.  He did, however, wish us the best of luck.

Afterwards was pretty much a blur.  Walking around the Strip, sitting, playing the slots, and finally ending back at our hotel, we still had six hours to kill.

The Hotel, Sunday, 3 June 2007, 06:09 a.m. PST

The parking garage is a very nice place to relax in the early morning.  Vegas between 4 a.m. and 6 a.m. is very sane, calm, and tolerable – even the weather is nice and cool – compared to the drastic pace, noise, and heat that 10 a.m. brings on.

At this point, it is 10 a.m. and we have two hours to go.  I am so tired that I feel nauseous and I can not tell if I am hungry.  I think that because I did not eat in the past 34 hours, I should be hungry, but I am just too tired to tell.  We look at each other, it is getting too hot to stay in the parking garage, so we decide to try out the breakfast buffet.

Feeling exhausted but well-satiated, we are ready to tackle the lines of early check-in.  We were given many conflicting stories as to the possibility of an early check-in and to the actual time for early check-ins, so by the time we arrive back inside the hotel, there is a line tripled over.  Now we understand why no one person would give us a straight answer: early check-ins are quite common and they do begin promptly at 11 a.m..  Something to remember when you visit the City.  They all saw the two of us exhausted out of our minds and they refused to let us know – not even a clue – and this continued the tone of ‘The Vegas Mentality’. 

A clear case of the hyphen relegated into a stick half chewed-off and half gnawed-off with jagged splinters.  In Henderson the Rain King (1959), Saul Bellow wrote that “truth comes in blows”.  This was quite a reality beating.

Alas, once inside our room, it was wonderful.  We jumped on that bed and turned on our 32” flat screen television and caught the local news.  Surprise!  The first item is the giving out – for free – gun locks to all Vegas residents because of the exorbitant number of recent killings by children mistaking guns for toys and instead, killing off their sibling and/or parent(s). 

Had we not been as exhausted as we were, we would have taken this last bit of information as a sign that we would not stay in this town.  Being gluttons for punishment and rather clueless to the obvious, we embarked on what would be the last and final straw: the interview.

The Interview (At Least Getting There), Monday, 4 June 2007, 10:09 a.m. PST

The whole reason we went to Vegas was for this interview at noon.  It would ensure our stay and survival in the City and determine how we could proceed.  It would justify our leaving New York, my leaving my job, and my turning down an offer with a very worthy non-profit Institute.  How funny life is and the messages we are given when we are ‘stuck’ oscillating between two very different paths. 

In Vegas, the taxi system is rather curious.  If you are a resident, you can not get a taxi.  It is against the law for them to stop and pick up the unfortunate sap who tries to hail one down.  The City is so geared to its tourist population that it rather neglects its residents certain key amenities.  I guess they just assume that you will have your own car, whereas any Manhattanite or San Franciscan would dismiss that assumption as ridiculous.

We walked for just over a mile in 102 degree heat and decided to go to a nearby hotel to catch a taxi from there.  The damage was pretty much done – wasted shower, wasted interview dress, wasted silk stockings – and a completely soured taste of the City.  We walk past Mandalay Bay and decide to make a last-ditch effort for a cab.  We are in the garage area downstairs  where their bell captain asks us what we need.  I tell him that we urgently need a taxi because I have a job interview for which I am already late.  He looks at me and just says, “Okay, just stand right there” – big help!  After about 20 minutes, another bell captain approaches and tells me that taxis are upstairs – they very rarely stop by down where we are.  So the first captain was yet another example of ‘The Vegas Mentality’ – broken, unhelpful, rude, ridiculous, and ugly. 

If someone offered me all the money and riches in the world to live in Vegas, I would laugh in their face.  Never, ever, ever, ever will I entertain such a deluded thought!  NEVER!!!!!!

Although I am furious, I am grateful that as soon as we make the trek upstairs, we are able to hail a cab within 15 minutes.  Unfortunately, our driver was so bizarre and outrageous, he put that first captain to shame with his caustic sarcasm.  After learning that it would cost us over $60 to get to and from the interview, we decided to let Vegas go and make plans immediately to return home.  The cabbie is horrific and won’t let us out after we repeatedly ask to be let off at the nearest corner. 

I have been in taxis from Beverly Hills, San Francisco, Manhattan, and Florida to Munchen, Luxenbourg, Paris, London, Tokyo, Taipei, and Singapore.  This cabbie would make the amalgamation of all the worst drivers combined look like an angel – a very SANE angel.  He was really unhinged – and not at all in any good way, shape, or form.  Just another reason to leave the City without a backwards glance.

McCarran, Tuesday, 5 June 2007, 11:39 a.m. PST

If you do not plan something – anything – in advance, you better have plenty of money to burn if you want it to be accomplished.  We had to pay $1/minute for using the internet ($5 minimum) to book our return flights.  Unfortunately, with the level of airport security being code orange, not having current ID and booking one-way flights without notice raised flags at McCarran.  We were the lucky couple selected for ‘special’ attention and treatment:

1. confiscate 
   a. our newly purchased shampoo and conditioner – burned $15
   b. our newly purchased creams and body wash, courtesy Bath and Body – burned $30
   c. our toothpaste – burned $3
2. leave for us to keep
   a. our two scissors
   b. our razor blade
3. examine
   a. via blasts of air 
      i. our face/body
   b. via x-ray
      i. our jackets
      ii. our shoes
      iii. our carry-on
   c. via person – TSAA
      i. our carry-on

As we wait in line to get through this pointless ordeal (like I am really a threat with my toothpaste – “I will bludgeon you with white teeth and anti-cavity/anti-tartar protection!”) – we notice that a young man, maybe in his early 30s, is taken aside and escorted out of the airport.  The security guard the whole time had a tube of his sunscreen, that was most likely the suspect threatening weapon.  I ask Mark in a serious panic, “That guy gets thrown out because he wants to SPF - in a 101+ degree desert.  What are they gonna do with me; I have conditioner?!?”

We thought Vegas was a bizarro world, but nothing compares to McCarran.  The security is a diktat of its own, completely subject to the fancies of the individual security personnel.  It really does not matter if the security level for the day is orange or periwinkle with fluorescent stripes, they will do as they please, when they please, and to whomever they wish. 

It was rather curious.  Why would they confiscate our toothpaste, creams, and shampoos and leave behind our scissors and razor?  I would think the latter two items would be considered a possible threat to security – I know I’ve knicked myself a couple of times and lost some blood, and I’m not even a terrorist!  The Airport’s illogical nonsensical ‘security’ protocol in combination with the City’s uninforming, unhelpful, unhospitable hospitality workers really requires and demands pause.  How are these people allowed to exist?  How do they function daily?  Why work in hospitality if you hate people and staunchly do not want to help others? 

We did not care.  All we wanted was to leave, get back home to sanity, and hopefully to get our luggage, God willing.  The most important thought on our mind besides escape was the fact that we were enduring this together.  Unity and Strength in Solidarity. 

The Aftermath, Wednesday, 6 June 2007, 2:09 a.m. EST

Safely back ‘home’ after shelling out over $1K, I found a lot to be learned and gained from this harrowing mal-adventure.  (Enlightening - no, eye opening - yes, and for that, it was completely worthwhile.)  I am a huge Seinfeld fan and I really never knew the profound import of a ‘bizarro world’.  I could not even imagine that it would ever have anything profound attached to it – not even in the slightest degree.  Ladies and Gentlemen, when you enter that realm, beware.  You are in for quite a ride – a ride nothing short of bowel-depth. 

For all its glitz and glamour, that City is a veritable quagmire.  For a weekend getaway or to relieve your wallet, it completely fits the bill.  To live there permanently or for any extended length of time, just don’t do it.  Seriously, don’t.  Save yourself, don’t.  Yah, NO, don’t.  UNLESS…unless you have super-kidneys and an indestructible liver, unless you have a lot of guns and really like to fire them off, and unless you do not want to be extraordinary or unique in any way…if you desire nothing more than to ‘blend-in’ and to drink, gamble, smoke, and party in desert-hot temperatures year-round, and if you have a good reliable car, then perhaps Sin City may work for you.  If you like gun-happy cops and if you either love staying at jails or are a perfect person impervious to the law, then perhaps it will work for you.  (But then, why Vegas, why not Texas or New Mexico?) Also, if you are a celebrity entertainer or independently wealthy, then perhaps it will work for you, but if you are at that level, why not go to the real thing – rather than go to a Bellagio, why not go to Italy and rather than go to a Paris, why not go to France – why would you decidedly choose to relegate yourself the ersatz version of the real thing if you have the means to enjoy, live, and thrive in the real – the actual – place?

So you see, there really is no reason to move to that City.  None at all.  And for all you thinking about education, there are far better choices and programs, so don’t even throw that at me. 

Real-time, Tuesday, 12 June 2007, 2:01 p.m. EST

Perfect job.

Perfect new apartment.

Lessons learned – the hard way, but learned nonetheless.

Living in the real now, the actuality of this past adventure has been an exercise and expedition into an askewed recess of the hyphen.  Exploring potentiality and riding in that bubble before it bursts, that was the excitement of this adventure.  Realizing that it was but an ersatz version of potentiality in a land of wasted imaginings and overdone lost promises, that was the true Pyrrhic lesson.

The Relevance, Wednesday, 13 June 2007, 9:41 a.m. EST

A few relevant thoughts to tie this all into meaning:

I. The surrealism of airport security protocols, especially the sporadic nature and unsystematic enforcement between airports – this is of great startling concern.  You see, if security is truly threatened, then I completely understand if all necessary precautions are undertaken.  However, when the protocol is uneven - lax at one city and grossly overdone at another - there is something amiss in the whole point to security in general.  Above all, when common sense is abandoned in the name of ‘security’, I really have to take issue.  No matter what nationality we are and no matter where we are living, we have no reason to abandon reason in complete disregard of our common sense. 

Especially as Americans living in a (quasi)-‘democracy’, when we allow this to occur, when we allow mini-diktats to rule and to affect our lives, we betray the foundation of our nation.  We are slapping our Founding Fathers in the face when we mute our voices, blind our sense, and accept a compromise to our ‘system’.

II. The unhospitable hospitality employees illustrate a very interesting phenomenon of the man versus machine dyad.  With the 18th Century Industrial Revolution, the tension between man and machine increasingly takes central focus.  Today, it seems that machines are a natural appendage to man – more than an accessory - an actual and necessary organ-celebre.

Has man created machines that will ironically replace man’s own usefulness?  Are machines more efficient and intelligent than man?  Will machines replace
man, and if so, when?

Critics and Luddites might dismiss (vehemently) the notion of a machine replacing man and perhaps there will never come the day when artificial intelligence surpasses man’s.  However, when man - when people – refuse to be human, helping, informed and informative, and when they abandon their responsibilities and general tasks set for them, they discard their role.  More simply, when humans stop communicating and when they stop taking on the role of helping others to the point where those they are to help turn instead to machines for self-assistance, they force man to machine-dependency.  End result: machine usurps man by man’s own mandate.

When man has made reality a place where we necessarily have to incorporate and thrive in spheres of virtuality it is worth pause and contemplation as to the overall form we want our future societies and communities to take shape.  A reality mixed with the virtual is as commonplace today as the air we breathe.  This is not a necessary evil.  I am an ardent proponent of the phenomenon.  However, when I see electronic spheres become caves of solace and individualized existence, when I see man replace his living with a virtual existing, I do not necessarily see a positive transcendence.  Oftentimes, there is an empowerment in electronic transcendence and the tapping-into of potentiality.  However, when the electronic medium is used as a crutch of dependence to replace potentiality, we are again betraying the salient purpose and import of that medium.  Virtuality is an amazingly powerful sphere pregnant with potentiality and creativity within that imagining.  To betray this sphere would be a theft to all.

III. Vegas as a City of Hyphenation Paradox.  Although the traveler’s journal might read as a Vegas bashing, that is not my intention.  It is a City of potential, illusion, mirage, deception, broken and fulfilled dreams, and ups and downs (more downs than ups).  On the whole, it is a concentrated microcosm of luck, chance, and living on borrowed images.  There are so many metaphoric and literal masks and costumes on exhibition in Vegas that there really is no place for the real to exist except in virtuality.  In this sense, Vegas is an exploding implosion of the imagination and a rather ersatz potential eradicated because of the static acceptance of a relegated achievement.  There is no dynamic kineticism in this City of synthetic creation and illusion.

And this is the veritable hyphenation paradox.  Camouflaged under the blazing bright lights of scrutiny - the deception, the illusion, the town of mirages – this is the true haven of the paradox, where it can thrive, grow, and flourish into decay.  For its denizens and visitors, this is their reality, for them to enjoy, bask in, and simulate living.  For the true hyphens who seek to realize their potential, beware.  As a paragon of the hyphenation paradox, Vegas is a necessary reminder to all: see the choice clearly that lies before you and choose wisely.  There is a very whimsical tissue-thin line between dreams and nightmares.  Nothing could be worse than a dream fulfillment realized as nightmare.

By all means, give me virtuality!