Sunday, October 17, 2004
Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

STEVE SEBELIUS: Join the conversation

The first time I met Geoff Schumacher, he took me to lunch at the Omelet House on Charleston Boulevard and interviewed me for a job. I was a young, aspiring reporter in those days. He was the city editor of the Las Vegas Sun.

We talked about Las Vegas. I got the job at the Sun, the first of three newspapers -- including CityLife and the Las Vegas Mercury -- at which I've worked for Schumacher as a writer. And over the past 11 years, we've had many more conversations about the town, where it came from, where it's going, and what it all means. We've agreed, disagreed and agreed to disagree.

But now, everybody can join that conversation, in the pages of Schumacher's first book, "Sun, Sin and Suburbia," published by Stephens Press. (By way of disclosure, Stephens Press owns the Mercury, the Review-Journal and me.)

At first, I worried about "Sun, Sin and Suburbia," because Schumacher brought his historian's evenhandedness to the subject. Does he like it here or not? "My woefully predictable answer: Yes and no," Schumacher writes. He adds, in another passage: "Unless you're a diehard gambler or lounge lizard who can't imagine being anyplace else, Las Vegas is an acquired taste."

But my worry was quickly dissipated as I delved into the meat of the book, which examines downtown, Green Valley, Summerlin, North Las Vegas, the role of the federal government, luxury living and transportation. One thing is clear: Schumacher has done his homework. I wrote in the margins at one point: Is there any book ever written on Las Vegas, pro or con, that the guy hasn't read?

But better than book research is life research, the kind of experience that only a local has, and that only a near-native can understand. Las Vegas at its founding was a kind of national red-light district, a place where authorities looked the other way at gambling they would never tolerate in their own communities. What happened here stayed here, even in the early days.

But then, something changed, and gambling was legalized almost nationwide. It was no longer considered a sin, but a way for governments to make money for various municipal projects. Although it's counterintuitive, Las Vegas continued to grow despite exporting its main industry, as Schumacher extensively documents.

It's then you realize that Schumacher didn't take a stand immediately so the reader wouldn't, either. His extensive tutorial on history, growth, key players and events is a way of drawing the reader into the story, and into the conversation. It's then -- and only then -- that we can make up our own minds about the subject.

And it's right about then that Schumacher weighs in with his own views, predicting the future and wishing for progress in the form of better mass transportation, preservation of natural resources such as Red Rock Canyon, and better jobs for people who live and work here. Near the end, we read what we've come to know about the author: Schumacher has acquired that taste for Las Vegas, like the rest of us who live here, despite the warning from socialite Paris Hilton that nobody cool would stay in Las Vegas for more than three days.

"There's plenty to gripe about -- the chaotic growth, the political games, the apathetic public -- but that doesn't mean I hate Las Vegas. Just the opposite. I complain because I care."

The complaints are well-founded and the caring is obvious in "Sun, Sin and Suburbia." Anybody who has even a passing interest in the subject should join the conversation with somebody who knows what he's talking about. We'll see you down at the Omelet House.

Steve Sebelius is a Review-Journal political columnist. His column runs Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday. Reach him at 383-0283 or by e-mail at Ssebelius@reviewjournal.com.