This post represents another installment in the series documenting our West Coast National Parks trip in the summer of 2017. Alan and I, along with our 18 year old daughter, Kyra, logged a total of 8,513 memorable miles of adventure over the course of five and a half weeks during the months of July and August.
Back when the first casinos opened in Atlantic City, New Jersey, in the late 1970’s, my Mom wanted to check out the gambling scene. (Thank heaven her spirit of adventure was passed along to me.) She was in her 60’s; Alan and I hadn’t yet hit our mid-20’s. In fact, he and I weren’t even married when the three of us made a pilgrimage to the Atlantic City casinos to try our luck at the slot machines. Mom enjoyed the excitement and, subsequently, would occasionally visit Atlantic City on a bus trip for seniors. She enjoyed the social scene on the coach, and loved battling with the one-armed bandits in the casinos (no electronic versions in those days, at least not at first). But she always set a dollar limit for herself and, if she went through that amount, would be content to sit in a hotel lobby with a book she brought along for just that purpose.
Alan and I are, most definitely, not gamblers. I can see its appeal as an entertaining pastime, but I think our very logical minds and my love of numbers may preclude an inclination toward it. However, considering the fact that there are probably some bankers, accountants and computer programmers attending Gamblers Anonymous meetings, it may be for an entirely different reason. Who knows? On that Atlantic City trip, we blew through the few rolls of quarters we had allocated ourselves, laughed about the fun-filled experience and never went back. So, why include Las Vegas as a stop on a National Parks trip, especially when we had an 18 year old with us who wouldn’t even be allowed to walk through a casino? So. Many. Reasons.
