First off, thank you to all who issued congratulations in response to my news about the engagement. I am very excited. Though a few folks have asked for details about she who will become Mrs. Schwyzer, I am committed to protecting her identity in the blogosphere. I am very public, obviously, blogging under my full name. (Tenure allows me to do so, and I see no reason for a nom de plume.) But I don't want anything I write and post to reflect on my gal; she has her own life and her own privacy. As tempting as it is to do so, I'm not going to share details of our engagement and our wedding plans on the Internet. Some things, I think, can stay personal.
The weather in Las Vegas was searingly hot -- 108 degrees on Saturday. Elton John's show was terrific, but also disconcerting. I know he was playing in Las Vegas, but the video monitors behind him kept displaying bare-breasted strippers; during his rendition of "The Bitch is Back", a Pamela Anderson look-alike writhed around a pole. During other songs, huge inflatable breasts appeared, suspended from the ceiling. Confetti streamed from the "nipples." I didn't find it funny; I found it troubling. The objectification and fetishization of women's bodies is expected in "sin city", but I didn't expect it from one of my musical heroes. It left a bad taste in my mouth. It's beyond me why Linda Ronstadt was thrown out of a casino for making a political reference, while no one sees the exploitation of young women in those very same casinos as problematic! It will be a while before I feel the need to go back to Las Vegas.
As we walked through the oppressive heat along the strip, young men and women (every one of them with a Latino face, looking like a recent arrival) tried to thrust leaflets advertising strippers and prostitutes into our hands. What on earth must they think as they do this? All I could see was one group of exploited folks (migrant workers) risking heat exhaustion to promote the services of another group of the similarly exploited (female sex workers), all for the enjoyment of predominantly white, middle-class tourists. The outfits the cocktail servers (who aren't formally sex workers) wore in the casinos were (to my mind anyway) stunningly revealing to the point of leaving me discomfited and embarrassed. I know damn well just how hard and cold so many of these young women must have to become in order to endure the harrassment they surely must receive. The whole thing was absolutely obscene.
I'll confess I have a strong censorious streak within me. Perhaps it comes from my own past experience of living near the opposite end of the moral scale. But what viscerally upsets me about Las Vegas is the commodification of human fragility, something of which I am keenly and constantly aware. The cocktail waitresses brought sexuality and alcohol to the customers at the slots and the gaming tables, creating what seemed to me to be an unholy trifecta of addiction. Gambling offers false and illusory hope to folks of all social classes, but most obviously to those whose own circumstances are marginal. It's instantly addictive, as I was reminded. Mennonites aren't supposed to gamble, but I put plenty of money into quarter slots, letting the excitement overwhelm me. The thrill of winning something -- even a few dollars -- was stunningly strong. It wasn't just the smell of cigarette smoke in the casinos that left me feeling unclean; it was the sense (quite strong on this Monday morning) that I had participated in (and relished) an activity that at its core isn't really fun at all. Playing the slots touched something dark and grasping inside of Hugo. Like most bad things, the pleasure was fleeting and the regret enduring.
What saddened me most was the many, many small children I saw in Las Vegas. Some were even in the casinos, oblivious to the signs insisting that one had to be 21 to gamble. (That was a rule more honored in the breach than in the observance, judging from the teens I saw at the slots in the Aladdin and the Paris casinos). The local newspaper told me that tourism in Vegas was expected to hit an all-time high in 2004, as were profits from the hotels and casinos on the Strip. My fiancee (how happy to write that) and I contributed our share. The hotel was very comfortable, the food splendid, the music of Elton John sublime. I did have a good weekend. (To be with my gal to celebrate our engagement would have made a weekend in Barstow seem equally delightful, of course). But I'm damn sure our children aren't going to Las Vegas while they are under our care, and our visits back will be few and far between.
Hugo, another fine post. (I've been reading; just haven't had the time or opportunity to write or respond much lately.) I don't think you should apologize at all for your "censorious streak," though obviously attempting to live up to or implement that streak in a place like Las Vegas is probably a fool's errand. When we lived in Utah, long before our girls were born, Melissa and I visited the city a couple of times, and on each occasion just felt assaulted: by the corrupted commodification of sexuality, by the addictions which surrounded us, by the unabashed embrace of the cheap and the crude, all tarted up and sold as "great family entertainment." Obviously, you need to distinguish between the Strip and the city; while the desert isn't my preferred living environment, I can see that the city itself has a lot going for it. (Though the degree to which its civic body is parasitic upon the values of the Strip is worth pondering.) Moreover, I realize that there is kind of social argument in favor of a place like the Las Vegas Strip: assuming we can't eliminate vice from the human soul, then vice has got to have a home somewhere. I guess what really offended Melissa and I was the obvious degree to which the corporate bosses behind Vegas strove to present their entertainment as "normal," as something as legitimate a diversion, as appropriate for children, as compatible with ordinary (one hopes) egalitarian life, as a family camping trip.
One things for sure: we won't be taking the girls there anytime soon.
P.S. Congratulations on your engagement.
Posted by: Russell Arben Fox | July 26, 2004 at 10:58 AM
Thanks Russell. I do agree that the desert is magnificent; the best part of the trip is looking at the rock formations as the plane descends into McCarran Airport.
Posted by: Hugo | July 26, 2004 at 11:02 AM
We overnighted in Las Vegas on our way back here, and while we didn't really have time for shows and touring, I spent a little time in a casino. Enjoying gambling seems to require a few things that I don't have: equanimity about the money you're spending/losing (we budgeted a small amount for this, but at the tail end of an expensive trip, it still seemed wasteful); ignorance of the odds (the house wins, overall. They can't do that unless lots and lots of people lose); no desire for winning big (except for a few very unusual cases, it takes a lot of money to win a lot of money); perfect self-control (I could have walked away a few bucks ahead, or at least even, if I had stopped at just the right moment; I guess prescience helps, too); enough time and money to get some skill and savvy (even the slots require some understanding of probability and return to make sense of; games like blackjack [where I spent most of my time] and craps and roulette have very particular probability guidelines which can, if not help you win, at least keep you closer to even longer).
In short, it's a sucker's game where the most common payoff is a false adrenaline rush, and I didn't have the time, money or inclination to enjoy that particular sucker's game. My feelings afterwards were not too different from yours.
Posted by: Jonathan Dresner | July 26, 2004 at 12:38 PM
I share the sentiments of Hugo, Russell, and Jonathan. My only experience in Nevada was when the OAH met in Reno about 12 years ago. The place pretty much horrified me, especially that parents would take children to such a place. I do fondly recall having a good meal at a Basque restaurant, but there wasn't much else that told me I needed to revisit the place.
Posted by: Ralph Luker | July 26, 2004 at 03:05 PM
Hurray on your engagement! Many happy thoughts to you...I love being married...for me its been the fun of having a permanent conspirator with secret decoder rings and everything!
I hate Las Vegas. Technically, I've been there a few times although I'm usually asleep in the wee hours of the morning after I've finished my leg of the Baker to Vegas run. I just usually shower, change, eat and fly home. The one time I actually “went to Vegas,” the only real fun was laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Unfortunately, the sadness seems to overwhelm even the most ludicrous moments, making it more depressing than funny. And I have a really evil (let me emphasize, really evil) sense of humor, so when I stop laughing…its bad.
Posted by: blackkoffeeblues | July 26, 2004 at 03:26 PM
mrs. schwyzer? this surprises me, hugo!
have i missed the posts about sharing a name?
fill me in! :)
i live in takoma park where it is exceedingly rare to ever meet a woman who has taken her husband's name, unless of course, he took hers, too. i hide out behind my married name to keep me in hiding for a lifetime from all my lovely ex-boyfriends.
Posted by: jen lemen | July 29, 2004 at 02:45 PM
When she told me she was willing to take my last name, I was floored and honored. I posted on this subject a couple of months ago; I'll have to find the link. Like a lot of men, I have officially pretended not to care, all the while very much hoping that she would indeed be willing to take my name. It says a lot about her own sense of self, and her trust in me. Or so I choose to believe.
Posted by: Hugo | July 29, 2004 at 09:11 PM
that's great!
many blessings to you both.
and i would love to read that post!
Posted by: jen lemen | August 01, 2004 at 08:59 PM
Here it is, jen, from April:
http://hugoboy.typepad.com/hugo_schwyzer/2004/04/on_names_and_pa.html
Posted by: Hugo | August 02, 2004 at 08:47 AM