LETTERS FROM HOME: LAS VEGAS INVADED BY DENTISTS, LAWYERS AND MAGICIANS

Oct. 12, 1995

Dear Polly and Dan,

Thank you for searching through the house for my other glasses. It never occurred to me that I might sit on my primary pair. Guess the trick to vacationing is being prepared for all occasions.

DC has already pronounced this the vacation from hell, which seems sort of premature since it's only half over. Things could get worse. How do you top hell?

Leaving for St. Louis with only three hours sleep didn't help. And we flew Southwest, the airline with a sense of humor and a free-for-all boarding policy. I wound up sandwiched between two 250-pound cousins, hockey fans from Detroit, who were going to their grandmother's 100th birthday party. They had a good time and told fat jokes in appreciation of my predicament of only being able to open the newspaper so far.

We arrived in Las Vegas apparently at the same time as the thousands of dentists, lawyers and magicians who were holding their national conventions there through the weekend. If we'd jumped in front of a car and been taken to a hospital, we'd probably have gotten to the hotel faster than by waiting in the long lines for a taxi or shuttle bus. But we weren't in the mood to gamble that much.

It was a weekend of long lines -- driving on the Strip, at good restaurants, at McDonald's. Walking along the sidewalks in front of the Treasure Island hotel, we suddenly were surrounded by a mob of tourists determined to watch the pirate get set afire and the ship sink, a phenomenon which occurs every half hour after dusk. We were wedged in, couldn't move, couldn't turn around for a long time, which felt a lot like being back on the plane. Plainly, there were too many people in Las Vegas.

The good parts were finally getting to meet Derek the guitar player and Charles the Skateboarder, a fine pair of nephews, and their dad the captain. We all went to Planet Hollywood, the restaurant where the food might be better than the actors.

This was the first time your three daughters had been together since our wedding, and they remain a lovely trio. Not the girls you thought would be hanging out in Sin City, I guess, but then Sin City has changed and so have they.

There were baby carriages galore even in the casinos, and lots of non-gambling amusements. Like late-night bungee jumping next door to our hotel. Coming soon, a Seattle-like space needle with a restaurant and what must be one of the world's tallest roller coasters on top. Guess Las Vegas will always have an edge.

My friends Leslie and Sheila popped over from L.A. Hadn't seen them for two years either. We had a good time but someone broke in their car and stole Leslie's cellular phone and .357 Magnum (very L.A. booty those pirates got).

In Las Vegas, most of the time nothing seems real. Not the money you drop into the slot machines, not the chorus line's breasts, certainly not the fantasies cooked up by the casinos to draw in customers. It's all for fun, of course, an adult Disneyland. "How'd they do that?" DC asked, watching the magic acts. The same question applies to your bank account by the time you leave town.

We're glad to be in California, where friends are supposed to be hosting a dinner party for us but all we can get is their answering machine. The vacation continues.

Love, Sam

~Sam Blackwell is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.