I grew up in Las Vegas. Yes, I know, no one grows up in Las Vegas. Well, I did. And my mom was a nurse and my dad was an anesthesiologist. No one worked in a casino (okay, so I worked at the Banana Republic at the Venetian one summer and my uncle was a pit boss at the Imperial Palace), and we all went to school at regular schools and lived in regular houses. I tell people that growing up in Las Vegas is like growing up anywhere else, except stuff is open later. (When I went to college and learned that bars close, I was dumbfounded.) I had a pretty normal childhood. I would almost say that I was a sheltered kid – I didn’t drink until my senior year of high school, never had a fake ID, was a cheerleader all four years of high school, and drove a 76 Blazer that I adored. Nothing exciting. But we used to drink at what we called Natch. I don’t know where the name came from, or even who started drinking out in the middle of the desert. But that’s where we went. And there was a bush where you threw your bottles when you were finished (or in my case, when I pretended to be finished). And now it’s apartments. They bulldozed the beer tree years ago and built on top of the ruins. Las Vegas has grown tremendously since I was in high school and since I lived here full time. It’s always fun to drive around a bit and see what’s changed. The biggest change for me is how far up Charleston you have to drive to clear the lights of the city and see stars. I used to drive up Charleston a lot when I was younger, when I needed some space or some thinking time away from my family and friends. I’d roll my windows down and turn the radio up and drive fast up to Red Rock Canyon, the pull off to the side of the road and climb on top of my car and stare at the lights. It was pretty and calm and quiet, not something easy to come by in the busy city of Vegas. And I still like to drive up and see the lights, but it takes longer and I have to drive further and the view isn’t as good anymore. But I guess that’s what happens. I’m happy to have lived in a place that’s grown so much, but it makes me a little sad when the places of my childhood no longer exist. The places in the desert where I used to make out with boys and drink underage are gone now. I wonder where the high schools kids go now. Probably just out further, so they can see the lights and the stars.
Random Zukes 