We've been discussing travel this month, and from my comments on the previous blog posts, I believe I have established that I have not been to Europe, England, or anywhere else on the other side of the Atlantic. I have been to the Caribbean, but that was so long ago (read 30 yrs here) that any pictures I might post would be outdated, to say the very least. I seriously doubt you would recognize me in any of the pictures taken back then, as I was much younger and thinner, though my haircut was virtually the same. Sad, but true. . .
When my family takes a vacation, it is nearly always to Myrtle Beach. Every June we make our yearly pilgrimage and we've been there so many times that I believe I could drive through Kentucky, Tennessee, and North Carolina in my sleep--no wait! I have done it in my sleep! But that's another story. . . . I've posted many a photo from those trips, and while there are some of you who may not have seen them, trust me, I'll be going back there again in a few months, and there will be plenty of opportunities to use those pics in a blog.
Until recently, I had never even been west of the Mississippi. Had I gone to the RWA Nationals in 2008, I would have traveled to San Francisco, but, alas, I was too chicken to fly off into the West aboard a plane all by my lonesome. I have since overcome that fear and attended the national conference in Washington, DC, but the reason I was willing to fly there alone was that in November of 2008, I took a trip with some friends to a destination where it was imperative that we fly. We were on one of the first flights out of the new Indianapolis airport, and having that experience under my belt gave me courage.
No, I have not been to the Tetons, or to California, or to a ghost town, but I have, however, been to Las Vegas.
What cultural attractions does Vegas have to offer a writer, you may ask? Having been there, I can honestly say that I have climbed the Eiffel Tower, had dinner in Provence, viewed the statues of ancient Rome, heard gondoliers singing on a Venetian canal, explored the Pyramids of Egypt, and strolled through a castle worthy of King Arthur himself. From there, my imagination is all I need to concoct a story.
Still, if my imagination isn't enough, I offer this as a testament to the value of Vegas. Where else can you get your picture taken with a bevy of shirtless Australian hunks?
Or sing a duet of Hot Legs with Rod Stewart (or someone who looks just like him) on the top of a double-decker bus?
Or meet Captain Jack Sparrow and Elvis on the street standing next to the biggest margarita in the world?
Or take a road trip through the desert and have the opportunity to stand in front of something that actually made me look small? (that's small, not thin!)
They say that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, but I'm here to report that it simply isn't true. The memories of that trip will remain with me for a lifetime, not to mention the dry skin I acquired from the 10% humidity level that stayed and stayed and stayed. . .