A long and winding road has led to the city of the brightest lights, Las Vegas. The annual poker convention that is the World Series of Poker has landed at the Rio All-Suites Hotel & Casino, and with it comes all the temporary help necessary to put on the show. That’s where the Lost Hawk came in.
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It was nothing short of wonderful to get back to California after months on the road. There’s no place like California that I’ve been yet – it’s home in every way. But there’s something about being at home that saps my creativity and motivation to write and experience and connect with the world around me.
I especially left this blog, which I’ve so caringly assembled, to fallow. I still don’t have a clear vision beyond a collection of content, but I very enjoy the expression and connection I get. So, I’m certainly happy to resume working on my writing and sharing it with the random surfer looking for something to read.
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A smart man once told me, “It’s hard to see the picture when you’re inside the frame”.
The thought crossed my mind pretty much just as the lights of the Vegas strip began to reveal themselves from the high desert road into town. In the bed of my truck was most of what I owned, enough to furnish the room I rented.
I had been to Vegas more than a handful of times already, but always as a visitor, and in the many visits, I had never been anywhere besides the airport, the strip, and baseball fields. This trip would be different – I had a job and a room waiting for me, and a whole new chapter of life in front of me.
This time, for the first time, I’m seeing the picture from within the frame, and this after looking at the picture for years. And the converse of the old cliché is just as accurate. Once inside the frame, my perspective on the picture has expanded vividly and rapidly.
Las Vegas is a fascinating town, as much a melting pot as New York was in American’s immigrancy heyday. It is built on dreams, most of them broken deams, but some are simpler. People come to Vegas from all over the world in search of their fortune, big or small, in search of work, a life to carve out in the desert. The idea of “making it” can be very relative.
To explore the neighborhoods around Las Vegas can be like stepping back into medieval times. It’s in many ways an approximation of feudalistic society in that the so-called proletariat exists almost solely to support the oligarchy of CET and MGM. The towns sprawls out, the working class that has struggled through the toughest of times strewn across the badlands.
One of the many recognizable strip landmarks is the beam of light emitted directly into the night sky from the Luxor Las Vegas. It is the strongest light beam in the world, clearly visible from 250 miles away, anywhere in Vegas, and is more than just a symbol of the glamour of the city.
The beam of light is part destructive siren’s song. It represents the allure that draws in the vulnerable soul to crash on the rocks of the blackjack tables. It shines bright and beckons in fast and loose money and extinguishes with the rising sun, spitting out the flotsam in the gutter to be washed away. It’s a soulless light, without a conscience.
And yet it’s also part beacon of hope. There, every night as the sun sets, it beams strongly and brightly through the heavens themselves, sending a steady message that the lights are still on in Las Vegas, the scene set and the curtain again to be drawn on another night in Sin City. Even in the face of that hanging, dreadful feeling that this fragile town could come crashing down, as long as that light shines brightly in the sky, the show will go on.
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I’m excited to be a part of Las Vegas. It’s an important time for the city, and its future is less than certain. But there is a palpable excitement here, and I’ll be here all summer to help turn the wheels of enterprise. Dealing at the World Series of Poker promises to be an exciting and interesting experience, as will exploring my strange new home.
Stay tuned for updates and intrigue..