The Ancient City of Meadows

A long time ago this part of the desert trickled with springs, and meadows bloomed in oases.  It was an ideal place for ancient people to settle and raise families.  And so they did.

But that was before white and black settlers came, and finding no one still living here, built a city, the relics of which tourists still come to admire.

They come to see the old frescoed ceilings and the canals where the ancient people tamed the desert springs, using crude boats on canals lined with picturesque old buildings.

They must have found gold along the junctures of igneous intrusions and sandstone sediments which are common in the region, and used it to adorn their statues.  They carved figures in rock designed to show their lifestyles, which must have been hedonistic, to future generations.

Some of their structures strike modern observers as strange, having no conceivable purpose.  Buildings not perpendicular, and odd chimney-like contrivances on which we can only speculate  meaning.

Medeaval architecture lacking the trappings of European styles—gothic  or Romanesque—seem a blend of fanciful and traditional.

We even see harkenings to future trends of thinking as if these ancient people had some insight into the direction of history.  

Excavations have shown a degree of decadence in the old city—ancient gambling devices, and substitute money, possibly legal-tender in the houses of ill repute.

Each evening I look out the motel window at winking neons of sin city.  Finally, I built up the courage to enter a mad day.  I became alone in a Las Vegas crowd.  Beside a slot machine,  I secretly shared the misfortunes and the minor victories of a woman as she spread a grayness in the air about her.  Taking another chance at happiness, she pressed the “spin” button.  Las Vegas, where everyone looks like a broken-down movie extra, a withered starlet, or puffy-eyed motel blonde.  And how is a wilderness doe to make a living with a gang like this?  I do it with contrast and attitude, like a deer descending into the city for relief from Pasadena draught.  Stark contrast—big city and big sky.

The city has its own private history, based on, but not limited to, facts.  I put on a summer dress for an autumn stroll along The Strip.  Here is where some took a shortcut to the American Dream.  In 1905 when the city began, there really were springs and meadows.  But it soon became a place where anything was possible.  Its optimistic feisty spirit created a wide-open city that drew dreamers, fertile ground for daring ventures and ingenious schemes.  A city sprouts in the desert and becomes a global capitol of adult entertainment.  What were the odds?

Freewheeling west, all fertile ground where empires could be built and money could be made.  And where the mob came, settled in, took control, and ran everything.  “We are Bigger than U.S. Steel” a mobster said after killing most of his competitors.

When Prohibition came in 1920, business opportunities for the mob expanded greatly, and Las Vegas boomed.  It was called organized crime because gangs were connected in a large network.  When the mob realized it lacked the organization needed for a huge business, a kind of board-of-directors was formed, called “The Commision” which met regularly and  governed operations until the 1950’s.  Tourists played and stayed in mob-run casinos.  It was a burgeoning new business.

The mob brought celebrities and jingle bells to the Ancient City of Meadows, and with them a horde of tourists that have caused the town council to build immensely wide highways just to contend with a herd of horseless carriages.

Throughout its reign, which mostly ended in the 1980’s, the mob responded swiftly and harshly to anyone suspected of undermining its profits.  Killing wasn’t enough; the way the mob killed sent a message about the victim and a warning to others. 

Bringing down the mob took a lot of effort and coordination of government segments.  “This town was a lot better when the mob ran it, The streets were safe; you didn’t have all this petty crime.” is still said often in Las Vegas and in Southern California.

The probabilities of gambling ensure that honest casinos make a profit.  But mobsters aren’t famous for moderation.  Every gambler knows that odds favor the house, but they hope to beat the odds.  Some do more than hope, concocting elaborate schemes.  You can still go to jail for trying to cheat in the gambling hall.

The end of mob control came partly because Howard Hughes added “casino owner” to his resume.  He saw Las Vegas as a city he could dominate and reshape.  His purchase of many casinos helped to clean up the mob aura.