My conclusion after visiting Las Vegas is that America needs a polar opposite of Sin City:  a city branding itself as a tourist destination for those who find joy in treading with light carbon footprints and being frugal, rather than by hemorrhaging dollars in front of a billion flashing lights.

David Sirota is right in his judgment of Las Vegas’ unbridled energy consumption in this piece today at Salon.com.  Las Vegas is not an escape; it’s a place where people come to practice the same bad habits they always do, just with the volume turned up.

A real escape would be a place where you could find relief from the guilt-laden behaviors - like driving and shopping - that are necessities of routine for most people.  A vacation destination that relieves you of your ecological footprint for a few days makes much more sense than unrepentant excess at a time of economic and environmental crises.

Maybe you can hide that fling in Vegas from your spouse back home, or get away with calling the numbers on those X-rated cards shoved in your face on the Las Vegas Strip, but those carbon emissions from your weekend gambling binge most certainly do not stay in Vegas.

Coming off a visit with my new freegan friend Professor Saier (see my previous post on his dumpster-diving prowess), at least I can say I tried to keep my footprint to a minimum during my first trip to Las Vegas.  Twenty bucks got me through a day and a half of walking and eating on the Strip.  Not bad, I think.

I found myself in Las Vegas over the weekend, and, as proof of either how straight-laced I am or how much I loathe any form of entertainment you actually have to pay for, I was in all seriousness ready to stop someone on the street and ask them, “Just what exactly is there to DO around here?”

I spent Saturday walking up and down the Strip with my police scanner buzzing in my ear.  Ironically, I didn’t hear much happening on Las Vegas Boulevard; most of the radio traffic was in the residential areas.  I heard at least one report of a cocaine deal in an apartment somewhere beyond the casinos.

Though I ended up slowly losing a few dollars at the penny slots on Saturday (conclusion: Indian reservation slot machines are way looser), I found a worthwhile diversion by learning that the Las Vegas Marathon would be held bright and early the next morning.

So, going to sleep in my ant-infested motel room, I was up before the sun and greeted by neon lights gleaming in the pre-dawn hour.  Seeing 15,000 relatively healthy runners in Sin City was enough to keep my spirits as high as the scant club-goers, still in their $200 shirts, staggering back to their hotel suites at 6:00 in the morning.