I spent the weekend in Las Vegas attending a political blogger’s conference. It was pretty basic stuff, having been doing this for a few years, so I had an opportunity to actually get out and visit “Sin City”. I had never been there before. In the past, when I tried to go, something always came up. Frankly, I think it was divine intervention that never allowed me to set foot there until AFTER I was married because once I was there I could easily see how several women I ran into had the potential to be a future ex-wife. However, what made the entire trip so fascinating, was how Las Vegas tends to symbolize two of my favorite philosophical concepts, personal liberty and personal responsibility.
Let’s face it, there is something about a city that allows you to basically indulge yourself in practically any activity that your heart, or the darkest recesses of your mind, desires. No sooner had I got off the plane and stepped into the departure terminal there were slot machines waiting for me. I could decide right there and then whether to play and no one was there telling to me to gamble or not gamble. Now if I blew all my money right there, it would have been my fault and I would have had to take responsibility for my actions.
While out on the strip Friday evening I was approached by a “working girl”. She was gracious enough to tell me that since I was from out of town, that if I wanted company she would be happy to provide it, not only for a modest fee, but she gave me her card telling me I could call anytime and if she wasn’t occupied (insert, wrong word, your own joke here) she would be there in 30 minutes or less. I told her that sounds a lot like the old Dominoes Pizza delivery policy, so naturally I asked if she didn’t show up on time would the service be free? She didn’t quite get the humor in that one. And just for the record, no, I did not take her up on the offer. Or any of the several similar offers that I came across while there. As I said, with personal liberty, comes personal responsibility. And not only would that be the wrong thing do to the Lovely Mrs. Shabazz, I can’t think of a better way to see all my worldly possessions go up in flames after pulling a stunt like that.
And by the way, I stayed at the Venetian, the only non-union hotel on the strip, which would explain why the service was really good.
Like I stated earlier, there’s just something magical about a place with gambling, alcohol, and that other stuff, where everything is freely traded on the open market, subject to rules that allow for the orderly exchange of goods and services. It is a system that seemed to work quite well for the couple days that I was there. It would be nice if the rest of the country would figure that out as well.
Can’t wait to go back.