This time of year I tend to dream about Las Vegas. I'm fascinated with the city. A playground for adults. Demolished and rebuilt every thirty years. Made of dreams and stardust.
I am not a gambler, but I appreciate the allure of gambling. There is a thrill in winning that is like seducing a woman or jumping from a plane. The promise of winning is irresistible to some. There is, as everyone with the travel channel knows, more to Las Vegas than gambling. But aquarium and roller coasters aside, Vegas is full of sin.
For some reason, come January I am jonesin' for Sin City. I listen to trance music from Buckley. I visualize the desert. The light is always golden, just like the dreams of the city.
I have no get rich quick dreams. I just want to drink poolside underneath the Eiffel Tower. I want to have a Tony Soprano moment in the desert away from the strip. I want to waltz into a club after having finished my pint and tossing it at the door on my way in and laugh at all the full price drinkers. No open intox laws in Sin City.
Is this real? Does this enchanted fantasyland really exist? Or is this a mirage of dreams and stardust? I have seen this vision with my own eyes. It is real.