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MORE COLUMNS Norm Clarke is on medical leave. In his absence, several celebrities have agreed to fill in for him. Today's column is written by comedian Rita Rudner, who appears nightly in the Cabaret Theatre at New York-New York. She is the author of "Tickled Pink," her first novel. The Review-Journal has paid a fee to Rudner, who has donated it to the Animal Foundation Registration Program.

Sunday, April 21, 2002
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

COLUMN: Norm!

Viva Las Vegas! Why I love this town

"You actually live in Las Vegas?"

That's the reaction I usually generate when I mention the current location where I eat, sleep, work, play and procrastinate.

"Yes," I reply. "I live in the city that everyone wants to visit. Poor me."

Speaking as a person who has lived in many places, I though I'd take this opportunity to mention some of the things I love about living in Las Vegas. OK, first I'll mention the two things that aren't so great and get them out of the way.

No. 1. It's hot in the summer. So what? That's why God invented air conditioning. There are huge malls that are so climate-controlled, they have their own weather. So if you're from Seattle and are missing the monsoons, grab your umbrella and head to the Desert Passage.

No. 2. And this is something that nobody mentions and which does bother me. It's windy. And there's no gradation to the wind. It's completely tranquil and then ... SLAM ... you risk getting killed by flying toupees.

OK, now to the good things. Never has there been so much great food concentrated in one area. Expensive food. Cheap food. Free food. I've never been on a roller coaster, but I expect if you open your mouth while you're lurching through space, there might even be flying food. I know this festival of calories is mightily impressive to visitors because the other day I spotted a man video-taping a buffet.

The shopping here is now fantastic. When I first began coming to Vegas 20 years ago, you could buy anything you wanted as long as it was a dice clock. No, that's not entirely true. Bad T-shirts and Elvis shot glasses were also available. And let's just take a moment to acknowledge that most stores here are open until 11 p.m. I've been in cities where the nightclubs close at 6 p.m.

Gyms, spas, tennis, golf, pools and water parks are all here, too. If you're like me, you can drop your motivated friends off at one of them and then go shove popcorn in your mouth while relaxing in one of our brand new movie theaters.

Parking garages here are free. I remembered this when I went to visit a friend at a hotel in Beverly Hills the other day. As I innocently drove into the parking structure, I took the ticket spat out by the machine just out of reach. What I didn't know is that I should have also taken out a mortgage. I was there for maybe an hour. I drove out and handed a uniformed thief my yellow piece of paper.

"$30," he demanded.

"What? I parked on a dirty cement slab for an hour. How could that be $30?" I demanded back.

"It's $10 for the first half hour, $5 for the next, and $15 for every hour after that."

"But I was only here for an hour."

He showed me the stamped ticket, which clearly displayed that I had parked on the dirty slab for 61 minutes.

"That last minute wasn't my fault. I was in a line of cars for five minutes waiting to get out," I pleaded.

No amount of pleading works on someone wearing a uniform. I breathed, paid the 30 bucks, and continued on with my life. I wouldn't have minded so much if I'd liked the person I went to visit.

Which brings me to my final three points. I find the people in Las Vegas pleasant, the atmosphere exciting, and, most importantly, in the entire year I've lived here, my hair hasn't frizzed once.

Honestly, what more could a girl want?

Norm Clarke's column appears Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Friday. You can reach him at 383-0244 or norm@reviewjournal.com.