I got a tattoo last week of the Las Vegas skyline. It's the new foundation for a sleeve on my left arm, with tattoos dedicated to everywhere I've lived. It was important to me that Vegas be the most visible design.
After all, it's the city I was born in, and the city I tell everybody I'm from. But here's the truth: Las Vegas is where I was born, but it is not where I was raised. I was raised in Logandale, Nevada, a small town in the community of Moapa Valley, located roughly 45 minutes away from Vegas proper.
I've always had a complicated relationship with my rural roots. Moapa Valley is a caricature of the southwestern towns you see in the movies. The whole population of 8,000 comes out for high school football, everyone knows everyone and, on Sundays the churches are full.
But I was a cliche, too: the small town kid who felt bigger, who didn't go to church on Sunday, who dreamed of skylines and looked away from sunsets. Quad-City Times Reporter Gannon Hanevold I spent so many years longing to leave Logandale that I left a few of the memories behind, too. I distanced myself from friends and folks who were good to me.
But thanks to a newfound love of country music, I've spent some time re-connecting with my Moapa Valley pride the last few years. And it all came full circle last weekend when the Raccoon Motel announced a last-minute opening set from retro-country crooner Branson Anderson, one of just a few active musicians from my hometown. So last Friday night, I pulled the o.