Holy Night in Sin City
Bit of a contradiction in terms, isn't it? Last year we were in Las Vegas for the few days around Christmas. Fi really wanted to go to Las Vegas "just to know what it's about", and I really wasn't interested. He brought me around by mentioning that he had no intention to gamble (yeah, right!) and that "Vegas was about a lot more than just the casinos anyway" (that's true, although most people aren't interested in anything else). Just when those encouraging words started giving me visions of Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon - even inching slowly towards Death Valley - it became apparent that whatever Fi's plans were, they certainly didn't involve anything beyond the city limits of Vegas. But he promised me adventure, and so I went.
It certainly was. From the lion enclosure at the MGM Grand to the gondolas at the Venetian, and from the elegant Fountains (of water and chocolate) at the Bellagio to the magnificent marble restrooms at the Wynn, you're left wondering who's pretending (the city or you) and who's being taken in (you or the city). It's so melodramatic and somewhat grotesque and so dazzlingly unreal that you can't help thinking that it couldn't look this unreal unless it were real...! Get my drift? At least, it became clear why people go there - the city is like a mind-altering drug. Slowly, imperceptibly, it creeps up on you till you can't understand why you need to be there, but you do.
Well, anyway, it was a strange trip. For one, there really was not a single penny spent in the chief amusement of the Gambling Capital of the World. (Well, neither Fi nor I are really into that sort of thing anyway.) Second, for the first time in several years it had snowed just before we got there. The snow had since melted but it was cold and so windy that it felt as much like home as Chicago (whatever that means). Third, there was really so much to see and do that I didn't feel out of place at all. Actually, that was all due to Fi's strategic planning - he booked us in at the Bellagio, knowing I'd love the fountains, so I could see them 'N' times a day. The fountains were playing Christmassy tunes - Santa Baby, Joy to the World, Jingle Bells, O Holy Night, Carol of the Bells, etc. I still remember some of the sequences, for example: O Holy Night (fountains start from either end and move toward the center circle) - the stars are brightly (moving around the circle now) shiiiii-ning (taller jets spurt right to the twentieth floor or thereabouts) ... and so on. When we left the city, I actually felt nostalgic, like I'd left a little bit of me there. See? Mind-altering.
Well, we got back, and life went on. This year has been very Very eventful for both of us, individually and as a couple. The year went by, and then the carols started again. In the beginning, I couldn't figure out why I'd developed a sudden attachment to O, Holy Night - my heart gave a little jump of pleasure every time I heard it. Then it hit me! Holy Night in Sin City, indeed.
It certainly was. From the lion enclosure at the MGM Grand to the gondolas at the Venetian, and from the elegant Fountains (of water and chocolate) at the Bellagio to the magnificent marble restrooms at the Wynn, you're left wondering who's pretending (the city or you) and who's being taken in (you or the city). It's so melodramatic and somewhat grotesque and so dazzlingly unreal that you can't help thinking that it couldn't look this unreal unless it were real...! Get my drift? At least, it became clear why people go there - the city is like a mind-altering drug. Slowly, imperceptibly, it creeps up on you till you can't understand why you need to be there, but you do.
Well, anyway, it was a strange trip. For one, there really was not a single penny spent in the chief amusement of the Gambling Capital of the World. (Well, neither Fi nor I are really into that sort of thing anyway.) Second, for the first time in several years it had snowed just before we got there. The snow had since melted but it was cold and so windy that it felt as much like home as Chicago (whatever that means). Third, there was really so much to see and do that I didn't feel out of place at all. Actually, that was all due to Fi's strategic planning - he booked us in at the Bellagio, knowing I'd love the fountains, so I could see them 'N' times a day. The fountains were playing Christmassy tunes - Santa Baby, Joy to the World, Jingle Bells, O Holy Night, Carol of the Bells, etc. I still remember some of the sequences, for example: O Holy Night (fountains start from either end and move toward the center circle) - the stars are brightly (moving around the circle now) shiiiii-ning (taller jets spurt right to the twentieth floor or thereabouts) ... and so on. When we left the city, I actually felt nostalgic, like I'd left a little bit of me there. See? Mind-altering.
Well, we got back, and life went on. This year has been very Very eventful for both of us, individually and as a couple. The year went by, and then the carols started again. In the beginning, I couldn't figure out why I'd developed a sudden attachment to O, Holy Night - my heart gave a little jump of pleasure every time I heard it. Then it hit me! Holy Night in Sin City, indeed.
posted by Summer Showers at
2:23 PM
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