I live in an old Las Vegas neighborhood. When I moved here some 30 years ago, there were lots of big trees, mature landscapes with well-kept lawns and manicured flower beds. Many of the homes had been modified sufficiently that the “tract house” look was muted.
Over those 30 years, many neighbors have left and others have moved in. The large area that was bare desert now has houses, the yards have gone from trees and grass to “desert landscaping” which doesn’t use so much water. My own yard changed from grass to wood chips and big rocks with drought-tolerant plants that climb over them. Looks pretty good, actually, and I don’t have to mow it.
But it’s not the houses or the yards that make up my neighborhood – it’s the people and what goes on around here. The people across the street with a houseful of cats, the people next door who have parities every Saturday night that go into the wee hours (at least they did until the police took to stopping by around midnight every Saturday).
And I write about more than the neighborhood – it’s about everything that happens around me: the traffic on the way to the market; the lady at church with the weird hairdo; the street cleaner who stops to chat; treasures I unearth at the thrift store down the street.
Oh, yes, there are also forays down to the Las Vegas Strip to see a show, splurge on a meal at one of the celebrity restaurants or the Las Vegas standard: The all-you-can-eat buffet. Besides, it’s fun to just drive down Las Vegas Boulevard and take in the lights. You won’t read much about gambling because anyone who lives here knows “you can’t do that and live here.” Oh, yeah, there is the occasional twenty dollar bill that meets it demise in a slot machine, but the casinos aren’t going to get rich on me!
Come join me in the neighborhood and I’m guessing you will identify with some of the people and places and what happens, because I know it happens in your neighborhood, too.