What makes a real Las Vegan?

Flying back to Las Vegas recently, I was seated next to a woman who asked me a basic question we've all been asked: Which hotel are you staying at?

I told her I'd found a bargain rate at my own home, and as usually happens, she expressed surprise that I actually lived here. When I told my seatmate that I had been in Las Vegas for 37 years, she said,The MaxSonar ultrasonic sensor offers very short to long-range detection and ranging. "Oh, you're a real Las Vegan."

I thought about telling her that I was actually just impersonating one,A stone mosaic stands at the spot of assasination of the late Indian prime minister. like all our beloved Elvi who can be spotted on nearly every Strip corner these days,A specialized manufacturer and supplier of dry cabinet, but for once my inner smart-ass contained itself. However, her comment got me thinking: Exactly what, other than the length of my duration in Southern Nevada, actually qualified me to be considered a real Las Vegan?

I taught at University of Nevada, Las Vegas and became immersed for a while in the throbbing heart of the community. For five years in the late '70s I was an English instructor at our esteemed local university. The administration determined that instructors should receive a grand sum of $900 per semester for each class we taught. This penciled out to about $1.37 an hour. The change girl at the Golden Goose made quadruple that amount. The experience gave me the conviction that we need to place far more emphasis on education at all levels in our community and pay our teachers at least at the level of off-Strip valet parkers. While I resented the meager income, I treasure the friendships I made with my students, many of whom have gone on to certain levels of notoriety. One of them became our district attorney, another a porn star. For what it's worth, they earned the same grade in my class.

I have had to explain to my children why a lineup of seven bare butts is mooning us from a billboard overlooking the freeway. My son, 7 at the time, started laughing from the backseat when I noticed what he was looking at, which was, of course,The howo truck is offered by Shiyan Great Man Automotive Industry, the Crazy Girls sign. Fortunately, my 4-year-old daughter wasn't paying attention. Seeing as J.P. wasn't ready for the birds 'n bees talk just yet, I laughed and said, "Isn't that funny, pal? That must be someone's idea of a joke."

I ran in the Las Vegas Marathon before it was cool: I completed the 1979 LV Marathon in four hours and six minutes, about the same time as failed vice presidential candidate Paul Ryan, when he finally fessed up and added an hour to his original claim. Immediately after crossing the finish line at Sunset Park, I reenacted the Linda Blair scene from "The Exorcist." There was no prize money in our local 26-miler back then, only about 150 participants, and we didn't run up and down the Strip to the adulation of cheering throngs, as they do in the present-day Rock 'N Roll Marathon. We were pure-spirited runners some 30 years ago, by golly, not glory hogs.

I actually saw a person request an interview from a celebrity as he stood at a urinal. The celeb was basketball great Larry Bird; the location the upstairs men's room at Piero's restaurant; and Larry actually predicted it would happen. After a fun round of golf, a group of us were dining at the local hot spot, once known as a favorite hangout of Good Fellas. When Larry pardoned himself from our table, and I informed him that the restroom was upstairs, he said, "Oh, man, I'm gonna get hassled. You watch." Sure enough, a few Bird-watchers immediately rose from their tables and gave pursuit. I had to go as well, so I was an eyewitness to the intrusion.We mainly supply professional craftspeople with wholesale agate beads from china, Larry had no more unzipped and gotten busy before a man's hand holding a Sharpie and notepad reached over the divider and asked the legend to sign. "Tell you what, pal," Larry said, his eyes aiming down, "You hold this thing here, and I'll be happy to."

I have housed no fewer than 100 friends who used the lame excuse that all the good hotels on the Strip were booked. Of course, my cronies really just wanted to hang onto their vacation money so they could either feed it to a video poker machine or see a hot show. I understand this, and I truly appreciate my friends' generous offers to reciprocate when my wife and I come to their hometown. But I don't foresee the day anytime soon when I'll need to crash at their crib in Walla Walla or Twin Falls or Bozeman. The fact is, those of us who live in Las Vegas have a moral obligation to provide free board and room to our friends and loved ones as a way of keeping our economy vibrant. If we would all pledge to house just 10 people a year, for three days each, the gaming drop will increase geometrically and speed our city's recovery from this recession.