Authentic versus Fake - Dimensions Analysis

When is either actually genuine?

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My first trip to Las Vegas was in 1987. I was twelve years old.

I was excited having seen pictures and heard stories. I didn’t really understand how adult it was. In fact I really didn’t know you had to be 21 to gamble. It wasn’t like I expected to be able to—just hadn’t given it much thought.

Some of that was I didn’t really see myself as a kid. I liked adult things, thoughts, and conversations. I watched adult movies and TV shows for the most part. Hearing that I wouldn’t be able to participate was a letdown. Not so much in the missing out, though. It was more because it was yet another realization that I was just a kid. Inside I protested, “But I’m not like the others. I’m smarter, more mature. Just give me a test or something so I can show you.”

As immature as I was and would be for a long time after that, my judgement was much more adult-like than many adults I encountered. And after all, how “adult” do you have to be to lose your money to Vegas? That last part wasn’t exactly my thought process then, but it wasn’t too far off. Regardless, this was my first encounter with Las Vegas and how it was pretending to be something it was not in many various ways. It was pretending to be a special type of playground for those who could responsibly enjoy it. Yet it was actually a combination playground and hunting ground built on imitation, extremes, and flirts with danger all offered with various exclusions and inclusions that are never completely consistent or sane. I fell in love with it, and I’ve been wrestling with that and all the contradictions ever since.

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My family pulled into town after a A VERY long drive through the California desert arriving at The New Frontier hotel. The Strip was as amazing as advertised—that wasn’t fake. The hotel on the other hand wasn’t fake either provided you were expecting the most adult (boring) version of a gaming destination possible. But to me it was fake because it looked like the worst version of the adult world I liked to dabble in.

It was drab, smoky, dingy even. In fact it was pretty depressing. I couldn’t understand why someone would enjoy it. And worst yet, I was quickly ushered away from the parts that looked slightly appealing—the gaming floor. I felt very unwelcome. My younger brothers even more so.

We went to the room where my dad helped us to bed while my mom went down to gamble some. Fortunately, this wasn’t the prelude to the casino scene in Lost in America.

After a hard sleep, we awoke to good news. They had found a place that we would LOVE. It was down the strip and we were going to stay there the rest of the trip. The place was Circus Circus. It sounded like the Las Vegas I expected, and it didn’t disappoint.