For a few moments on the plane I was worried that Las Vegas wasn’t going to be tacky enough. What was I thinking?
The Liberace Museum, even though the interior is festooned with reminders of its namesake’s public work and generosity, is run by some pretty staunch women who’ll swoop down on you if you dare take an indoor photograph. I mean, the Met will let you take flash-free shots, but not this place. (Luckily the outside is fabulous enough to fulfill most needs.) I snuck these flash-free ones in while my father was playing one of Lee’s pianos (with permission.) You’ll notice some actual live middle American fanny-packers on the periphery.
