Lessons of Las Vegas
Though it’s late and the April sun has been now hours set, I need to get some words posted to begin rebuilding my practice of posting to this neglected weblog.
It seems remarkable ~ that is, worthy of a remark ~ the number of times today I was asked “how are you?” in a way that seemed as though the asker really wanted to know how I am.
I am now 31 hours returned from nine days in Las Vegas, Nevada where I was sharing a high-rise condominium with first, my mother-in-law, and later, my mother-in-law and my wife, and spending my days primarily shooting dice at various casino craps tables. Mere months since my trip to Sin City with Carlos Montoya, Prairie Jamie, and Amandi Khera, it’s impossible not to compare the two trips and so I will say that my trip with my friends was much more fun, and my trip with my wife was much more joyful. I am not sure where my relationship with my mother-in-law is going, but I feel ‘helped’ by it.
One of the attitude traps I can fall into is the assumption that all people are like me. The consequence of this trap, it’s toxic effect, is the frustration and bitterness that arises when confronted with the reality that this is not true. My mother-in-law helps me because she seems to assume that all people are (or should be) like her, even more than I assume all people are like me. Her frustration and bitterness cue me that I should be trying to avoid this outcome.
I like to contemplate Las Vegas. I like to stand and stare at the fake edifices, towering and grandiose, but still artifice in the truest sense, and consider what it means. Of the few epiphanies that I can claim to have had in my life, Las Vegas has been the site of half of them.
An important thing about life that I realized on this most recent trip is this:
I am a person who drinks cheap beer and expensive bourbon.
The difference between Beer beer or Lucky Lager and Stella Artois isn’t worth the difference in price. But the difference between Woodford Reserve bourbon and tumbler full of camp fuel is very much so.
It seems remarkable ~ that is, worthy of a remark ~ the number of times today I was asked “how are you?” in a way that seemed as though the asker really wanted to know how I am.
I am now 31 hours returned from nine days in Las Vegas, Nevada where I was sharing a high-rise condominium with first, my mother-in-law, and later, my mother-in-law and my wife, and spending my days primarily shooting dice at various casino craps tables. Mere months since my trip to Sin City with Carlos Montoya, Prairie Jamie, and Amandi Khera, it’s impossible not to compare the two trips and so I will say that my trip with my friends was much more fun, and my trip with my wife was much more joyful. I am not sure where my relationship with my mother-in-law is going, but I feel ‘helped’ by it.
One of the attitude traps I can fall into is the assumption that all people are like me. The consequence of this trap, it’s toxic effect, is the frustration and bitterness that arises when confronted with the reality that this is not true. My mother-in-law helps me because she seems to assume that all people are (or should be) like her, even more than I assume all people are like me. Her frustration and bitterness cue me that I should be trying to avoid this outcome.
I like to contemplate Las Vegas. I like to stand and stare at the fake edifices, towering and grandiose, but still artifice in the truest sense, and consider what it means. Of the few epiphanies that I can claim to have had in my life, Las Vegas has been the site of half of them.
An important thing about life that I realized on this most recent trip is this:
I am a person who drinks cheap beer and expensive bourbon.
The difference between Beer beer or Lucky Lager and Stella Artois isn’t worth the difference in price. But the difference between Woodford Reserve bourbon and tumbler full of camp fuel is very much so.