Rambling on Vegas, Again

When you need to check on the culture of the US there is only one place to go, Las Vegas. The predominant fashion in Sherman County is what it’s always been, blue jeans and shirts, and that’s just the ladies. But Vegas is the place for new trends that shouldn’t be and old trends that should never have been. Now that the US is getting back to semi-normality (common sense, idiocy and madness all rolled into one) more people are traveling and Sin City has renewed its lease as the fashion fop of the free world. The first thing you notice is the tightness of the clothing.

Let’s be honest, most of us should not be wearing tight clothing except with scuba gear. Years ago I discovered that constricted clothing on me looks like a hippo with a gland problem. Thus the vocational decision of priesthood makes sense, given slimming black and voluminous vestments. A large sparkly robe covers the sins of the flesh, as in pasta and port. The people passing Las Vegas BLVD had either no self awareness or self esteem; not to be harsh but fat, and showing it off, is the new cultural trend. For us rural non trend setters, the sight has the potential of burning our retinas.

Recall our old excuses for our formidable flab of belly, thigh and, well, everywhere: “It’s a glandular problem.” Then Vegas has a plague of glands problems that rival covid and the black death. “I’m retaining water.” In that case Hoover Dam is only holding back air. The simple statement that, “I eat too much,” was never considered. Today, no argumentation is ever given because the stricture of clothing over a corpulent body is in vogue. There is no shame if you parade your pounds with pride.

Another revelation of Vegas culture is the Mahomes haircut. If you chase down a celebrity in Sin City that you assume to be Patrick Mahomes II (the quarterback of the Kansas City Chiefs; curse you Tampa Bay) due to the distinctive coiffure, you’ll find another Mahomes beside him, one further down the block and several at the blackjack table. The hair style is the rage with men and women, especially those whose prospects of playing pro football are between slim and none, and slim just left town. There are a few things that never change in this desert city, booze.

While playing a game of nickel keno and sucking on my favorite diet soda, a young, pretty lady began to scream. My first thought was where did see get a picture of me in a speedo? It happens they were ear splitting yells of happiness talking to her friend on the phone. She was thoroughly inebriated, after all it was two in afternoon. Her boyfriend/husband/hopefull/passerby was holding her up as the ability to stand erect eluded her. The screeching was finally halted by the bar keep after the airport called to complain about the noise. “Good bye daughter of joy, we hardly knew ye.” Then the angry lady came in and “let the show begin.”

The lady was a bit tipsy considering the path her feet were taking. She appeared angry and began snarling like a Satanic Leaf-tailed Gecko. As she passed my keno seat she snatched the five dollar bill I had laid on the bar as an enticement for the waiter to keep the soda coming. I shot out of my seat and began yelling, because that’s what you do in Vegas, it never goes out of style. Crumpled bill in hand she turned to challenge me with a face that could turn a tadpole into a Spiny Lumpsucker. Realizing confrontation was probably a mistake, options quickly sailed through my brain.

  1. Soil myself noisily, but most people have done that in Vegas for varying reasons;

2. Commence the fine art of fisticuffs, but I never fight a woman who’s bigger than I am, or smaller for that matter;

3. Scream like the previous lady and pretend to faint, but I don’t have the voice or acting chops for it;

4. Thrown down a gauntlet, didn’t have one;

5. Attack with a nearby stick, couldn’t find one;

6. Beg for mercy and give her an additional fiver for letting me live;

7. Get the heck out of there.

Fortunately she threw to bill to the ground as two of the biggest security goons in God’s creation came to escort her out. I began silently thanking God between tears. The security goons returned and asked if everything was all right. My reply “No, the Chiefs need a better offensive line; what are you two doing this coming season?”

We come in all shapes, sizes, ages, backgrounds, cultures and faiths; one thing we have in common is God’s love for all of us, even those who don’t want to be loved. The Lord Jesus didn’t come to save a certain percentage or “kind” of people, He died for all. I often look at people that are annoying (if you think it’s not you, it probably is) and understand that that is a brother or sister that God also loves unconditionally. We can reject that love; one of the principle ways is not loving others. Not loving others is a sin against God and life. If we don’t show it our actions, it will never reach our souls.

So anyway, let’s give thanks for Andy Reid and Patrick Mahomes and ask for an early Christmas present in a decent Kansas City Chiefs offensive line.

3 thoughts on “Rambling on Vegas, Again

  1. As always, Fr. Richard, a well-told story that leaves me wondering how the Jesuits let an intellect as powerful as yours get away. 🙂 See you Thursday……


    Liked by 2 people

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