On Vegas, furniture and 21st century entertainment
I just returned from the furniture rival out west. I was not checking out convention space. But I was checking out the city scene during a weekend bachelorette fiesta.
It was my first trip to Las Vegas. Far from mesmerizing, I found it deafening. Sort of like being in Times Square to the 500th degree. Dinging slot machines inside. Pop music blaring outside mixed with a cacophony of people filled with fake compliments trying to lure you into their casinos; to their "girls"; to their "What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas" t-shirts; and whatever other commercial detritus they were hawking.
For me it seemed more like seven layers of Hell with great food, algae body wraps and a number of alluring shows thrown in to make you forget you were in a moral vacuum.
But at $125 a night at the Tropicana, it was affordable to stay. For $250 we could have been at the much swanker Mandalay Bay or Bellagio. We didn't need a car. The Grand Canyon is a couple hours drive. And the mystique of the Wild West, even the crass version where cleavage is currency and drinking out of a brown paper bag on the street is de riguer, lends it a post-modern coolness.
High Point has exhibition space, southern charm with a jacked up price tag during market and ...lots of furniture. I couldn't help but think that Vegas wasn't even thinking about High Point. Doesn't need to. Furniture would be a small piece of an almost infinite number of ways the city detaches money from its visitors.
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