I spent a few days last week in Las Vegas. One observation: in the middle of all the neon and kitsch, every Starbucks begins to seem like an island of sanity. There's something comforting about the fact that you can be in the craziest place in the world and still find a place to buy a soy latte and a copy of the new Beck album in fairly tasteful surroundings. As my brother said, it's like an embassy for yuppies.