Notes from Vegas Strip

…a land of canned music seeping nostalgically out of every bush. Of young women waiting to accompany you in a photo, naked but for pasties, a pair of panties and a set of bunny ears. Of a garrulous Elvis impersonator riding around drunk in a scooter cart insulting passers-by. Of earnest men dressed all in black broadcasting the word of Jesus on street corners. Yellow minis, giant hair, and his-and-her t-shirts announcing “King” and “Queen.” Billboards like movie screens. Glitter and glare glancing across glass buildings backdropped by sure-bet blue. Overweight adults lugging flagons of florescent Mardi Gras-style Hurricanes. Tricked out cars passing dignified under a giant, looping rollercoaster. Eager and desperate young men passing out fliers with signature flair. A storm trooper next to a ninja turtle next to a transformer next to a man sleeping on the sidewalk, his cardboard sign smudged and illegible. A single, dancing blue M&M. & the grimy old man in the bright orange t-shirt announcing GIRLS, GIRLS, GIRLS…