Lessons from Las Vegas

Mari (my sister) and I met in Las Vegas last weekend. She had been nagging me for months about attending a singles' conference there that was being sponsored by the church. She's also been adamant about going to see Donny and Marie Osmond in concert. She was probably wise to get me to pay for the hotel and the concert tickets over a month ago.

I'm comfortable being single. Sure I dated when I was younger, but I came to terms with my marital status-- or lack thereof-- a long time ago. Whenever I thought about the weekend, all I could see was the money I would be spending for a "nice" weekend. I was going because it was important to her, but not because I was particularly interested myself.

How many times do we do things even the tiniest bit grudgingly just to humor someone else? How often do we even try to dredge up a teeny bit of enthusiasm because it is important to the other person? How hard do we try to hide our lack of true commitment or support? Or, are we more likely to let it slip, either by word or expression, that we just aren't that interested? That's how I felt on Wednesday before I left.

How superhero is that? As I see it, the real superhero is willing to risk everything-- his or her very life-- in another's behalf. And those who truly understand superhero-ness, know that the hardest tests of one's super powers rarely involve life-threatening saves. The true tests are those which challenge the stinginess lurking in some dark corner of our heart. Because if we aren't willing to take joy in facilitating another's smallest happiness, what makes us think that we will ever be willing to offer our all when the time comes? The true superhero is willing to give what needs to be given at the moment the need exists. Superheroes don't ask if the situation will bring them glory-- they give. The moment the need has been filled, they quickly revert to their unassuming alter-ego and disappear into the crowd. They recognize when it's time to move on and do so with alacrity.

Now that the weekend has passed, I can share what I learned. I experienced high after high after high-- without drugs or alcohol, without doing anything illegal or immoral.

The concert was great. Donny and Marie are wonderful performers and I don't begrudge the price of the tickets. As a matter of fact, now that they've extended their contract, Mari says we are going again and next time we'll have the most expensive seats in the house.

The conference sessions were interesting, educational, and uplifting, and encouraged us to draw from and develop our own gifts and talents. Another experience that was worth every penny expended.

Lastly, we spent a phenomenal evening at the Bouchon Bistro at the Venetian. Chef Chris Herrin, head pastry chef at Bouchon, was one of the presenters at the conference. He brought along Chef Scott Whitfield and other chefs from the restaurant to demonstrate how to make a couple of simple desserts. At the end of the day and despite attempts to avoid Las Vegas Boulevard, Mari and I found ourselves having dinner at Bouchon on Valentine's Day (aka, "Single Awareness Day"). It wasn't just that the food was amazing-- the best part of the evening was that Chef Chris took us on a tour of the kitchen! We went away truly feeling "wined and dined" (without the alcohol) and treated like royalty by everyone associated with the restaurant.

This was one of the best weekends of my life!! I can't imagine how much more the experience might have been enhanced had I spent the days and weeks before it looking forward with anticipation instead of that tiny degree of dread. Let the superhero's positive attitude shine forth!

One last observation about the weekend... At the conference, there were several times when chairs needed to be moved from one venue to another. Those hosting the conference often asked the men in the group to help move the folding chairs. Some of the the men stood in lines for lunch and dinner, making comments about the meals being delayed. At the same time, other men repeatedly passed by carrying chairs. I came to the conclusion that, were I in the market for a husband, I want one of the workers. Superheroes aren't afraid to work-- and I want to be counted among them.