Surviving the Anti-Vineyard

Father’s Day was a beautiful island day.  We took our little catboat out for her first sail of the season, and even though the wind was a bit anemic, it was lovely.  The rowboat stayed with us (the significance of that statement will become clear in a future blog post).  We walked the dogs to Sengy and were thoroughly restored by a weekend on the island.  That Sunday night, we sadly packed up ourselves and the spaniels and headed back. 

Twenty-six hours later, I landed in Las Vegas.  To say that the contrast made my head hurt would be an understatement.  There’s always a transition back to the “real” world from the island, but I’ve never experienced a head spin as strong as this one.

As the plane crossed the mountains into the valley, the city lights of Vegas actually looked quite pretty.  But stepping out of the gate into the airport proper, it was clear that this wasn’t Tisbury anymore.  Slot machines were at the ready, right out of the gate.  I can’t see the Steamship Authority adding them to their terminals, but then maybe I shouldn’t say that too loudly.

Walking out of the airport in search of ground transportation proved that it is indeed hot in the desert, as it was well over 95 degrees after 9 p.m.  And the forecast for the next day promised a high of 107.  They say it’s a “dry heat,” but going outside this week no longer seemed like a good idea.  With zero humidity, all the curl the island air gave me instantly dropped from my hair, which would have made me ecstatic as a teenager, but my curl and I have come to be good friends, and I missed it. 

Being a good corporate citizen, I took the shuttle to the hotel, which provided a lengthy tour of the Strip.  Crowds of people were milling everywhere, and neon lights were rivaling video game displays.  I felt myself climbing right into my turtle shell, wondering if it would ever be safe to come out.  I figured we don’t really need windmills in the Sound; we just need to unplug Vegas for a week, and the island should have all the energy it needs for the next century.

The conference hotel of course had a casino, and I wondered if my presenting voice would be able to compete with the music, slot machine sounds, and the alternating shouts of joy and despair from the casino floor below.  But in the end, the conference itself was good, and my presentations went well.  It was good to reconnect with some people I only see at conferences.

But as the taxi driver drove me back to the airport (I wanted out of there faster than the shuttle would take me), my eyes were drawn past the lights to the mountains that surrounded the city.  I so needed to see the real world again.  Las Vegas is actually in some pretty countryside, but the city itself is so overpowering, that the landscape itself is quite easy to miss! 

There are those who really love Vegas, but this island girl isn’t one of them.  I can’t think of a place that is more of an antithesis to the Vineyard than Vegas.  As we approach the Fourth of July weekend, as crowded and as hectic as it may get on the island, we’ve got it good!