When you think of the words “loss” and “Las Vegas” what comes to mind? For me, it used to be the outcome at the craps and blackjack tables. But this year, it also means something different. This has been, to say the least, a strange and challenging year for all of us in one way or another. I’m not trying to sound too dramatic, but I’ve been thinking a lot about loss in one way or another for a while now. For me, one of the ways comes to mind applies to my relationship with Las Vegas. I haven’t been able to visit my favorite city since the pandemic. I had planned on going there for my birthday in early April, but obviously that got scrapped. So now I’m counting the days until we find a vaccine and it becomes safe to travel.
Loss can be accompanied by fear, anger, frustration and hopelessness. My many sessions at blackjack and craps are proof of this. But I count my blessings and think about all there is to gain on the other side of loss. There’s opportunity, new beginnings and, yes, even hope.
In that spirit, I have revised this website and added a new Instagram account. I have been thinking a lot about the theme of rebuilding, so you will see that in Simplifying Las Vegas. It will look a little different, but it will feel much different. I am focusing on the idea of Community a lot more. Because I am practicing social distancing now, I am feeling a sense of loss from being physically apart from people. So Simplifying will help bridge that gap. I’d like your help. I would love to hear your comments, your ideas, your thoughts as we transition to this new way of life. What are your concerns when you return to Las Vegas? What do you miss most? What do you hope will happen?
I look forward to fun. It’s what I miss most about my trips to Sin City. I miss hanging out at the blackjack table with my wife, my friends, and the folks we meet along the way. I miss the rare occasion when I win a double-down and have also tipped the dealer so that she wins twice as much money, too. I miss hitting a point in craps and almost spilling my rum and Coke when I do my happy dance.
I miss the early mornings in Las Vegas, when I wake up before anyone else and walk up and down the Strip or Fremont Street. I love the idea of a new day, of a new beginning. I even love the smell of stale smoke from the night (or a few hours) before I have started my stroll, the sight of half full beer cups before they have been thrown away, the scattered sports book tickets that didn’t win.
I expect all of this to happen again, but it might take a while. So I have to be patient for now and just deal with Loss. Just let it linger and know that there will be something else on the other end.
Viva,
Mike