Site Visit to Las Vegas
CASINOS MAY BE PROLIFERATING ACROSS AMERICA, BUT LAS VEGAS HAS
SOMETHING SPECIAL--IT'S A NEON-TINTED TEXTBOOK ON THE WAY WE SEE MONEY.
WRITER MICHAEL VENTURA SPENT (NOTHING BUT) TIME AT OUR NATIONAL SHRINE TO
THE DOLLAR AND CAME IMPRESSED WITH HOW PURITANICAL IMPULSES CRASH HEAD-ON
THERE WITH OUR CONQUISTADOR FANTASIES.
What's going on?
What are they doing here? And why are they letting themselves lose
all that money? Money means a lot to them back home. Why doesn't money
mean anything to them in Las Vegas? They can't all have personality
disorders (or can they?).
They look normal enough--"normal" as defined not psychologically
but statistically: middle class, mostly white, many of them overweight
(no matter their age), and wearing the sort of clothes you see in
supermarkets and malls. Demographics say that roughly half their
marriages end in divorce; that the fathers spend less than 10 minutes a
week in conversation with their children; and that 20 percent of their
teenagers haven't talked to either parent for more than 10 minutes in the
last month. If they are couples, it's statistically likely that both work
and that on weekdays they spend an average of only 20 minutes "alone
together" as the old song put it. They work that hard--and hence spend so
little time together as families--because they feel they don't have
enough money. The vast majority of them share the same attitude toward
money: a pervasive, potent mix of acquisitiveness and insecurity. Few, no
matter what their financial standing, feel they have enough, and most
feel they have nowhere near enough. They are people for whom job security
is a thing of the past, and, if they are under 50, they have good reason
to fear that Social Security will be drying up by the time they
retire.
To them, taxes (even for their children's schools) are anathema,
and most want the government to balance its budget. They want to slash
federal programs, especially welfare (though it's only three percent of
federal spending), because, they tell pollsters, they hate people getting
something for nothing. Yet ostensibly that's why they come to Vegas: on
the chance that they can win a lot of money and get something for
nothing. Still, gambling is at best a puzzling behavior for people with
fundamental insecurities about money.
But even if we accept occasional gambling as a form of
"entertainment," there are casinos and lotteries all over the country
now. If money is their most prominent personal as well as political
concern, why make an expensive trip to stay in a pricey hotel that
(despite the pools and shows) is really a gambling den, where the odds
are decidedly with the house, and where there's little to do but gamble,
drink, eat, and see scantily clad people sing and dance? We know that,
next to money, they're worried about crime--so why come to a city where
homicides are 56 percent higher than the national average, and rapes and
robberies 17 percent higher? Something unusual, even bizarre, is going on
in Las Vegas.
These people check in at the Luxor, a black pyramid with Nile River
gondola rides, depictions of ancient deities, and a surreal mix of
Egyptian and Manhattan decor . . . or the Excalibur, a cinder block and
fiberglass monstrosity supposedly suggestive of castles, with dime-store
mannequins dressed cartoonishly like knights and ladies fair . . . or the
MGM, where you walk in through the open mouth of a giant lion and the
cast of The Wizard of Oz greets you at the door . . . or the Mirage, with
live tigers through one entrance and sharks swimming in a huge tank
behind the check-in desk . . . or the new version of Bugsy Siegal's old
Flamingo, with its great pink flashing neon . . . or Circus Circus, where
trapeze acts soar over your head. They check in, these demographically
normal people, leave their gear in rooms that (except for the most
expensive) are basic Holiday Inn-type quarters, and take the nearest
elevator down to the casino. They'll spend most of their time in the
casino, losing money. No matter what the decor, these casinos are very
much the same. Hundreds and hundreds of slot and video poker machines
fill every available space, ringing, buzzing, flashing. Mazes of them
surround what are called "the tables"--tables used mostly for blackjack,
with a few for roulette wheels and craps. In a corner, usually roped off,
there's a section for poker and baccarat. Most of the casinos also have a
"sports room," where you may bet on any game being played
anywhere.
The vast majority of these demographically average visitors (who
would never call themselves gamblers) prefer the slots and video poker.
They plant themselves at these machines, and spend most of their time
pouring money in--to the tune of billions a year. Twenty-two million
people have to lose only $45.46 each to equal one billion, give or take a
few pennies, and it's not uncommon to lose that much in an hour or less.
At home these same people--it cannot be overemphasized--would drive many
miles to save that much money shopping.
Tags:
anathema,
demographics,
fantasies,
fantasy,
gambling,
good reason,
impulses,
job security,
las vegas casinos,
little time,
malls,
michael ventura,
middle class,
money,
money money,
national shrine,
nothing but time,
oppression,
personality disorders,
potent mix,
rival,
Social Security,
supermarkets,
weekdays
