I arrived in Las Vegas in May of 1996. It was almost a hundred degrees when I finally pulled into my parents’ driveway after five days of driving across the country. When I left Erie, Pennsylvania on Mother’s Day weekend there were still a few lingering piles of snow on the ground. On my last morning, I stood in the freezing cold as the sun was coming up and watched my breath disappear into the air as I filled the tank of my old Mercury Grand Marquis for the last time on Pennsylvanian soil. I didn’t know what to expect of Las Vegas back then. I had visited for a few weeks while still at school and, naturally, was tantalized by the bright sunshine and glimmering swimming pools. The lights on the Strip were visible then from just about anywhere in town and it was exhilarating to know that there was life going on at any hour of the day or night and just a fifteen minute car ride would put you in the middle of all the action.
But the newness of it all quickly vanished after I finally moved here, and before long I was missing my old pastime of antiquing on the weekends. Pennsylvania is an old state, one of the oldest in the country, and Pennsylvanians tend to stay put. A life-changing move for most Pennsylvanians would be, say, relocating from Pittsburgh to New Castle, an hour to the north of the city. But this is what makes Pennsylvania such a great place for antiques. Things get passed down over the generations and, sooner or later, end up in a local shop or auction.
But the newness of it all quickly vanished after I finally moved here, and before long I was missing my old pastime of antiquing on the weekends. Pennsylvania is an old state, one of the oldest in the country, and Pennsylvanians tend to stay put. A life-changing move for most Pennsylvanians would be, say, relocating from Pittsburgh to New Castle, an hour to the north of the city. But this is what makes Pennsylvania such a great place for antiques. Things get passed down over the generations and, sooner or later, end up in a local shop or auction.