Honeymoon in Vegas

I'm living in a place I never thought I'd live. Las Vegas, Nevada. I recall being asked when I announced I was moving, if people actually live in Vegas. I've known this as fact all my life - My sister has always lived and worked here; she raised a family here. For the uninitiated, though, Las Vegas is Sin City, a place best sampled in small doses, where what happens stays and where money is lost in prodigious amounts. Surely, no one actually lives there. I am here to tell you that lots of people live here and, moreover, lots of people love living here. 

This may come as a shock to my friends - especially to the ones in Austin who remain in denial that I've moved and like to say that I'm merely on a long vacation, and most especially to my long-term friends who have heard me bemoan over and over (and over again) that no place ever feels like home (except Sweden) - but here goes the grand statement.

I like it here. A lot. And in many ways it feels like home. 

Look, I've done this a time or two. Big moves I mean. I moved from Kansas to Michigan after grad school (the first time), from Michigan to East Texas and from East Texas to Austin. I've stayed each place long enough to find my footing....and fall in love. And yet I never seemed to. Oh, I fell in love with people (lordy...), but I never fell in love with the place. I can't tell you why, except to say something (or several somethings) weren't right. I can't pinpoint anything specific; we're working completely in intangibles here. The North was cold. The South was....well, the South. Texarkana was small, but cheap. Austin was big, but expensive. Both places were warm, humid mosquito farms in the summer. Don't get me wrong - I met a lot of amazing people and made many, many friends I will carry with me the rest of my life. It's just that........................something was always missing.

I'm not saying Las Vegas is perfect. It's hot. Fucking hot. After work one day this week, my car thermometer registered 125F. I have a friend who wants me to fry an egg on the sidewalk and bake cookies in my car. Right about now I could probably roast a whole turkey in my backseat. Still, July was the ideal month to move here. Why? I've already experienced Vegas at its hottest and the remainder of the year promises to be tame in comparison. Weather-wise I'm ok. Sure, nine summers from now I may grow tired of the excessive heat and want to leave, much like I did Michigan after too many cold, gray, snowy winters. But if we take the current heat out of the equation, there's a lot I like about living here. 

• Abundant sunshine and endless blue sky days.
• Mountains in every direction. 
• Cheap cost of living, comparatively speaking, and I can afford to live more "urban" here.
• Family close by. 
• Minimal traffic (as compared to Austin).
• Less in-your-face religion (There are seriously a zillion and one Mormons, but they tend to be less openly subversive and sanctimonious than their Southern Baptist and Southern Methodist counterparts).

I understand that I've only been here a month and things are always decent in the beginning before the newness wears off. Friends from "back home" still text and call keeping loneliness at bay. Every place is shiny and new. Then there's the relief of not running into people who know your history verbatim - moving means a re-booting of sorts that can be invigorating in the early stages....before realizing that no matter where you go, there you are. 

However, all that said, I'm doing things differently this time. I didn't kid myself that it would be easy. A major move across country never is. Unlike previous times, I approached this move with a positive attitude. I essentially told myself that come what may I was going to make it work. I guarded my sanity with a course of the Anti-Everything Pills and told my introversion over and over again that we were going to take a hit....but that if we could survive no cell phone service as we stepped off the bus in Oslo, we could find a way to manage the challenges Las Vegas would assuredly present.

I also told myself that it was just temporary. I'd stay in Las Vegas until my father passed or until he got sick of having me come over to watch sports and old movies. At that point, I could move on or move back. Las Vegas didn't need to be "Home" or anything grand at all. It could be what it was while it was and then I could put it all in the rear view. 

Then something really curious happened. I started liking it, really liking it. Sure, Las Vegas and I are still in the honeymoon phase.....but I never felt this way about any of the other places I moved. Maybe it's because I'm finally back in the West and, even though I never acknowledged it before, the West is the only place I've ever called home. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there's a sensibility here that is unique and unlike anything I've found anywhere else. Here in the West, people go to Disneyland, not DisneyWorld. Whataburger, sweet tea, and BBQ aren't coveted. No one hooks the horns, calls the hogs, or rolls the tide. 

All I can say is that Las Vegas is different in a way that appeals to me; in a way that feels like home. So, while I came here thinking it would be temporary, I'm beginning to see it as a more permanent solution. Time will certainly tell and of course we'll have to see....but so far, so good. 

***One additional point in the city's favor? Cheap and frequent flights to everywhere in the world.  Because sooner or later everyone comes to Vegas.***