Sin City

On my way to Las Vegas for a medical course today I decided that since I almost always travel alone, it's a good thing I self-entertain.  Here are some of my traveling observations:

• I discovered today that there are women in Minnesota who wear glittery jeans! (I've been told not to there, although they have been THE THING when I've beenin Arizona, Haiti, Argentina, and the Dominican Republic.) Turns out that Minnesotan women definitely prefer jeans with bling when they're going to Las Vegas.
• I've never been on a plane with this many tipsy people! Must be the destination. It's okay, though, because this way when I laugh out loud at my book (Cold Comfort Farm) I don't feel nearly so conspicuous.
• The drunk mother-daughter duo behind me are finally quiet, having falling asleep (very sad).  Now I overhear portions of my seat companions' conversation, “She always wears the same clothes: those sweatpants, d—m windpants – Packers. Nothing about her ever changes.”  I really want to know more.
• As we land I see signs for Cirque du Soleil, reminding me of the only other time I was in Las Vegas – I went to a medical conference and our alumni association had an evening reception and discounted tickets for the show “Ka.” Turns out a picture of me from that night was the only good one I had when it came time to print my missionary prayer cards– cracked me up every time I saw it, thinking of how it sounded to say that the photo on my prayer cards was taken at a bar in Vegas!
• On the ride to the hotel I learn from a billboard that Oprah calls David Copperfield, “The greatest illusionist of our time.” Impossible to see the word “illusionist” without hearing it said by that guy in Arrested Development. Turns out there's some stiff competition for David C, since Criss Angel is actually “the greatest illusionist in the world.”  If you can believe a billboard, that is.
• I learn from the TV in the cab (yup, there's a TV in the cab) that Bon Jovi and the Pet Shop Boys are actually alive and well (and playing in Las Vegas).

It's kind of a bummer to be here on my own, especially since the last time I was with here I was with my good friend Jenny and her family. Of course, there was disappointment on that trip, too – this Ocean's 11 fan found out that the fountains at the Bellagio aren't actually timed to great music (in the movie it's Debussy) but rather to kitschy pop songs.

There are many, many more things to be sad about here -- a traveling billboard advertises that they will "deliver girls right to your door, call now!"  I am reminded of what I read this morning in Matthew 11:  Jesus tells us to come to him, all of us who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and he will give us rest.  Even so, come, Lord Jesus, and be our shepherd.