Elvis is Not Dead

Elvis is not dead... at least his spirit is very much here, in Las Vegas, where I happen to be spending a few days, visiting a friend. Upon arrival at the McCarran International Airport, I was whisked off to the car rental place in a shuttle bus, driven by an aging guy with big 70s cop glasses, and blow-dried hair: the first of a series of Elvis wannabes that I was to encounter.
This desert town is larger than life, and if I had to pick one word to describe it, that would be "excessive". Vegas is always open, an inexhaustable 24 hours a day. There are more lights, cars, casinos, and tourists than I have ever seen anywhere else. There are Paris replicas, New York, Egypt, New Orleans, and a host of other Febreeze-scented, dinging portrayals of various world landmarks. Altogether, Sin City is quite overwhelming for a quiet little Canadian girl like myself. For this girl, memories of lights, glitter, carpet deodorizer, cigar smoke, noise and action will, indeed, stay in Vegas.