We recently went on vacation to Las Vegas. I craved this vacation like a crack addict craves cocaine. Not in the way you might think, though.
Many of you know that I am a pretty risk averse person. It isn’t that I can’t throw caution to the wind now and then, but only when it is safe to do so. In other words, I like strategically scheduled spontaneity and carefully controlled adventure. Our last several vacations tried my sensibilities. I do think it is a good idea to have new experiences and broaden one’s horizons. I try to do that. However, my bar between “stretching beyond one’s comfort zone” and “reckless abandon” tends to be only a smidge higher than a worm’s belly.
In the fall of 2024, we went to the Great Smoky Mountains. I drove about 650 miles- further than I have ever driven in my life- just to get there. The Airbnb I booked was a mountain cabin. Apparently, I’ve lived in Florida long enough to completely forget how mountains work. A mountain cabin, especially one that boasts a beautiful scenic view, is likely to be at the top of a very steep, narrow, and bumpy road. Let’s remember that this was pre-cataract surgery. In retrospect, I did not have sufficient vision- much less intestinal fortitude- to navigate either the Atlanta metropolitan traffic or a mountain that clearly did not want to be navigated. The trip was wonderful in many ways. The area enchanted me. Still, I don’t think I will ever be quite the same. Any adventure gene I might have possessed decided to resign in protest… or at least to take an extended leave of absence.
In the spring of 2025, we visited Southern California. This was more familiar ground, as I lived there for 50 years. Since we flew to an airport about fifteen miles from our destination, there was not a lot of driving involved in getting there. I did have to get a rental car. This was still before I had cataract surgery. Even though I was familiar with the general area, I had this vague sense that someone had rearranged the furniture in a room I thought I remembered. That could have been simply a matter of modernization and ever-expanding development. Or it could be that I couldn’t see well enough to read street signs. Luckily, my wonderful friends Judy and Bob generously (or with a healthy regard for their self-preservation) offered to drive when we traveled any significant distance.
Finally, after cataract surgery and a season of recovery, we went to New York last fall. I have told you the tale of mini disasters that followed in our wake. Let’s not dredge that up again. I just bring it back into your memory so that you will see that I have been on three vacations that were not exactly rejuvenating.
Most people probably would not look at Las Vegas as a “relaxing” vacation. It is not low key or subtle… to state the obvious. For many people, the idea of going to Las Vegas would be the most adventurous of the past several vacations. However, I was looking forward to Las Vegas mostly for one main reason- abdication of responsibility.
Before anyone starts clutching their pearls of gasps in horror that the Terri they know as one of the most responsible people on the planet turned into a girl gone wild in Las Vegas, let me explain.
For most of our non-Las Vegas trips, I am the point person. I make the decisions. I make the reservations. I do the driving. I do the navigating. I figure out how to do stuff. Max is supportive and encouraging, but the bulk of the emotional load falls on my back. Las Vegas is his wheelhouse. He has been vacationing in Las Vegas for about forty years. He plans early and well. He is confident in his decision-making. It is not that he takes over and doesn’t consult me. He always has me weigh in, as he is always determined that Las Vegas will win me over as the ideal vacation locale.
Also, in Las Vegas, hospitality and customer service are their bread and butter. And they know it. There is always someone who seems genuinely happy to help with anything you need because they know people are paying good money that they could spend elsewhere. The idea is to make you so happy to be there and so comfortable that you keep shoving money into slot machines. Since I enjoy playing the machines for brief periods of time and then get bored, there is no danger of me overspending in that arena. Nice dinners, merchandise, shows, upgraded experiences, conveniences, pampering- probably. Gambling- no. Yes, I understand that it is all still money out of my pocket. Still, it is easier to budget for experiences than gambling. The internet makes it quite easy to know how much pampering I can afford before I ever leave the state of Florida.
Sin City does not exactly live up to its name in Terriland. I do minimal gambling. We avoid the people on the street hawking advertising for more risqué “entertainment opportunities” (read into that what you will- what you are thinking is probably right!) I have yet to drink myself into oblivion or throw up all over myself. My health requires that I moderate my carbohydrate consumption. Typically, if I have the choice to eat ice cream or have an alcoholic drink, the ice cream is going to win.
This trip to Las Vegas, I must confess, I had two “adult beverages” in four days. I also ate ice cream. I felt very racy. A fair amount of bread and pastry also entered my mouth. I ate things I really wanted to eat but stopped when I felt satisfied instead of forcing myself to keep eating if there was any deliciousness left on the plate. Since I was walking more than eight miles a day, I felt perfectly fine and my blood sugar agreed.
Aside from these venial sins, you could say our Las Vegas vacation was pretty tame. Tame does not mean boring, pedestrian, or joyless. In this case, it was quite the opposite. Tame was the chariot by which beauty, joy, love, and wonder expanded my mind. Because I felt safe and comfortable, I could let myself just be. I didn’t have to make anything happen. I could allow the special experiences to wash over me and fill me with amazement. Here is where tame took me:
We spent a day and an evening with my bestest friend from California and her husband. We enjoyed companionship, a delicious dinner, a lightening show of music by a Billy Joel/Elton John tribute performer, and an excellent breakfast. They drove nearly six hundred miles round trip to spend less than 24 hours with us. Just because we love each other.
We went to a magical immersive moving art museum right on the Las Vegas Strip. The museum consisted of a series of dark, mirrored rooms in which art and lights and projection techniques created a fantasyland that enveloped us into its essence.
We spent a morning surrounded by more beauty at the Bellagio Conservatory. Every season, the hotel revamps the garden in the conservatory to reflect a new story. I have seen multiple renditions of Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter over the years. It usually feels like I went up the beanstalk and wandered into the giant’s Fairy Land. This year, we saw floral Easter eggs bigger than cement trucks and a carousel with larger-than-life-size horses.
We visited Venice and took a gondola trip through a remarkably realistic Piazza San Marco. The gondolier sang to us. We kissed under all the bridges. We looked through the shops on the replica Rialto Bridge. I bought a piece of jewelry for myself for the first time in years.
These are just some of the highlights of our tame trip. Tame does not have to mean subdued and broken. Tame can choose to surrender to the moment.
