Las Vegas, here
we come!
We leave tomorrow
for five days in that city in the desert. This will be our first trip this year,
and my first trip since undergoing surgery last fall. We were supposed to
visit Las Vegas last year, as I had every intention of attending a readers’
event in the spring that was being held there. Unfortunately, it became clear by
mid-February that I wouldn’t be able to travel just yet. If it weren’t for the
medication my doctor put me on at the beginning of April, I wouldn’t have been
able to make that all-important trip to Texas in May.
I was
disappointed to miss that reader’s conference, of course. I cherish any
opportunity to attend where readers may be, and that’s especially true when I
plan to meet with a member of my street team, as I planned to do last
April.
But life happens
and sometimes plans fall through. I promised the lovely woman I was hoping to
meet that I would visit Vegas this year. I try very hard to keep my
promises.
This will be my
third trip to this city, and David’s fourth. The first one was in 1989. It was
our honeymoon which we took on our 17th wedding anniversary. We only had a
weekend at a local hotel when we got married, and that had been a gift from my
brother. Our Vegas better-late-than-never honeymoon was also the occasion of my
first flight. I remember, that when the plane touched down at McCarron
International Airport and I got my first glimpse of palm trees, I cried. I’d
never believed I would ever see a palm tree, or take a flight, or travel,
period. I certainly never imagined I would go on to travel as much as we have.
Growing up, I was taught that a vacation trip was something that happened
every few years, if you were lucky.
Thinking back, I
believe that was because (aside from priorities of the day), travel was
relatively more expensive then that it is now. It took far greater of a
percentage of your wages to pay for a family or even a couple’s vacation than it
does today.
Our second trip
to that city happened in the spring of 2002, just a few months before my heart
attack. The quarry where my husband works was still family owned at that time.
One of the bosses always attended the ConAggExpo which is held every three years
in Las Vegas. They had previously taken an employee or two with them, usually
senior people. This time, the boss’ oldest son, Randy and his wife were going,
and they invited David and me to go with them. That was simply amazing and very
generous, for them to pay the whole tab. And I thought it spoke volumes when
they got choked up that we insisted on treating them to dinner while we were
there. I would imagine even rich people like to be treated from time to time.
The other very clear memory I have of that trip was seeing Cirque du Soleil. I
was sitting beside Randy, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as awed as he
was.
On both of those
previous trips, I did gamble some. It was, after all, a part of the experience.
Having seen the original Ocean’s Eleven (made in 1960 and which I’ve only seen
in glorious black and white), I’d imagined the Vegas casino as a place of
glamour and glitter. We did dress up one night on that first trip because I had
brought a couple of really nice outfits and even though most people were just in
resort wear in the casinos at night, I had to have that one night of long-held
dream fulfillment.
I’m not much of a
fan of gambling anymore. Between those two excursions and a few red-eye jaunts
to Atlantic City, I think I got it all out of my system. I may buy a lottery
ticket, but I haven’t even visited our local casino in more than three years.
There are games on line that I like to play, and most don’t cost a cent. We’ll
likely gamble some while we are there this time, as we both like keno, and I may
even indulge myself with a spin or two at the roulette table. But it’ll be under
the heading of entertainment, for both of us. I’m past the age where I expect or
even want to win a fortune.
This trip mainly
will be for meeting good friends for the first time, and for taking time, just
the two of us, to recharge our batteries.
That is, after
all, what vacations are all about.
Love,
Morgan
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