If you had asked why we don’t say “North Las Vegas Boulevard,” the answer would have been obvious. There is a city called North Las Vegas, and, sorry, it doesn’t get to have naming rights on our most famous boulevard. Plus, if there were a “South Las Vegas Boulevard,” people might think there’s such a thing as South Las Vegas. To avoid this confusion, we just put the “north” and the “south” after the “Boulevard.” Saying “South Las Vegas Boulevard” marks you as an outsider; it’s like pronouncing the name of the state “Ne-vaw-duh.”
What should we do about our water problem?
I think we should write a list of rules that apply primarily to individual water consumption, create a snitching program where people can anonymously report their neighbors’ inappropriate sprinkler use or car washing, and spend a lot of money to convince folks that having lush lawns, swimming pools and green trees is terribly inappropriate. We shouldn’t try to place restrictions on our growth, of course, because why do that when 2 million residents can live half comfortably as 1 million—even as the 40 million people who visit us relax among lush lawns, fountains, swimming pools and golf courses? Water problem? Who, me?
I’ve heard teenagers used to cruise Fremont Street. Sounds creepy.
Clearly, you come from a generation that appreciates neither car culture nor the serendipity of randomly jumping into some dude’s car just because he’s honking at you, he’s cute, and his GTO is boss. OK, when you type it out like that, maybe it does sound creepy. But yes, Las Vegans cruised Fremont Street, American Graffiti-style, for decades, peacocking in hot rods, primered hessian rattletraps, lifted 4x4s, old VWs ... just about anything that burned rubber and gas. Fremont once moved in both directions, so you could chat up the carload of cuties cruising the other direction, often stopping traffic to complete the conversation. In the 1980s, traffic was converted to one-way westbound; then in 1994, it was halted altogether for the Fremont Street Experience. Sexy car culture eventually gave way to the Prius, and people stopped their creepy cruising. Now, get back to your text-only relationship.