Safe in Las Vegas

Sin City. Mecca of greed. Two terms that aptly define Las Vegas, the former actually serving as the city’s much publicized nickname. The latter is my own, although I have no way of claiming exclusive originality. The Evangelical Free pastor in Oakland, Nebraska always got a bang out of saying that I was moving to Lost Wages. Those born-agains can be pretty clever. At the time, however, I must admit I was intrigued by the prospect of proclaiming the gospel in the city with a reputation for anything goes. Having now resided here for twelve years, Mary and I are hearing the call of a more “normal” place to spend our Golden Years (Mary’s hearing—typically female—is two or three times better than mine). I confess to having grown to like the place. It’s hot, dry, windy, etc, but in this age of security concerns I’m feeling as snug as a bug in a… Yes, the water level in Lake Mead is the lowest it’s been since Hoover Dam was constructed, but there’s still a lot of liquid life in there. Yes, there are agreements among the western states regulating which get how much of the water but there’s that old adage about possession being nine-tenths of the law. Las Vegans can take out the Boulderites in short order, and then let Arizona and California wonder how they’re going to claim what’s rightfully theirs. And it is this consummate spirit of greed that will keep Las Vegas going for as long as there’s still a U.S. of A. Very nearly one million people per week fly into McCarran to feel safe doing that which they don’t feel comfortable doing at home. Wanton lust is the engine that drives this city, and pity the poor reformer (Christian, Muslim, or otherwise) that might try to cut off the root of all evil. Yeah, I feel pretty safe here. The profiteers are not going to go down easy, and what they will fight to the death for in order to feed the greed is going to ensure that I won’t go down until the very last either.