Nevada 
I was too young to gamble then, of course, but the gaeity of the casino environment fascinated me. So did the possibility of getting rich quick. I later studied gaming strategies as part of my mathematics major. And after I joined the Peace Corps, I was able to practice my betting systems at the roulette and blackjack tables of Genting Highlands in Malaysia. I actually won more than I lost. By the time I finally visited Nevada again in 1982, I was ready for Las Vegas. And Las Vegas was ready for me.
My wife and I had chosen the Hacienda Resort Hotel, first on the strip, as our base for some fun. Our flight from Japan had arrived quite early, however, and it was too soon to check in. We dropped off our bags, thinking we would kill a bit of time in the casino. But no sooner had we started to make our way across the lobby, then a man intercepted us with an offer of a free coffee, doughnuts, and $10 apiece in gambling chips, just for sitting through a brief presentation from the hotel management. It was a pitch for timeshares.
I've sold cutlery door-to-door. I've written scripts for telephone sales. There isn't much a pitchman can say that I can't resist, so I saw no harm in eating his breakfast and collecting some seed money for gambling. The leader of the session, Mr. Brown, had that "too tanned, too relaxed" look. The presentation video starring George Kennedy was much too slick. And the price of a 20-year deluxe annual interval for four persons was far too tempting to pass up. After less than a hour in Las Vegas, I had spent $8,000.
Oddly enough, I now consider that timeshare one of the smartest investments I have ever made. Not only did it get me back to Las Vegas many times over the next fifteen years (where I've also won more than I've lost), it opened the door to even greater travel opportunities. I was able to trade my annual week for holidays in California, Hawaii, Colorado, Fuengirola, Spain and Atami, Japan. I started to think of the Hacienda as my second home.
It was during a 1987 visit to my home-away-from-home that dapper Mr. Brown suggested I make another purchase. Just an hour from Vegas toward California, a retirement community called Calvada Valley was being created. He could get me a 1.25-acre lot near the local golf course for a great price. I decided to visit the area for myself, and I liked everything I saw, including the vast open sky, the mesquite trees, the local casino, the golf course, and the brothels (prostitution is legal in that particular county). I ended up buying a similar-sized lot from a local agent for about one third as much as I'd originally been told it would cost. I had wised up a bit since I last met Mr. Brown.
Is Nevada still a good investment? In the long-term, I believe so. Visitors pumping quarters into the one-armed bandits ensure that local taxes remain low. Land values have been booming as America's aging snow-birds migrate to the warm southwest. The sun always seems to be shining there. I regret that the old Hacienda closed down in 1997, but the Las Vegas area still feels like home to me. I'm going to hold on to my dirt and build a house there in the desert someday. Others may call it retirement. For me, it will be a writer's retreat, where I can indulge my hubris.
POSTSCRIPT
As fate would have it, I did not hold on to that land as long as I thought I would. It went into escrow in April 1999 and sold for about three times the price I paid for it... my first successful venture in real estate. I kind of miss the dirt and the dream of a retirement home that went with it. But one lesson I learned at the casinos is that the only difference between a winner and a loser is knowing when to quit. I decided to quit while I was ahead.
