Newcomers are attracted by a robust economy that seems to have an almost insatiable appetite for employment. The biggest job-creating engine is the gaming industry (casino executives think that sounds better than gambling). More than 200,000 people are in casino jobs, which account for a significant portion of the region's total workforce.

The casinos calculate that at least two workers are needed for each new hotel room that is constructed. This giant army of service employees includes direct hires, such as maids, bellhops and dealers. But there's a dynamic ripple effect too. More rooms require more restaurant servers, more cab drivers, more theme-park attendants, more store clerks, more police officers . . . the list goes on and on.

In 1998 alone, the metropolitan area added thousands of new jobs. As usual, some of the biggest gains were in hotel, gaming and recreation positions. But, in percentage terms, the No.1 growth category was, and still is, construction. While some of that building work is performed on The Strip, the larger share is done in the residential tracts and commercial centers of the valley, which are sprawling in every direction.

Each year around 25,000 residential-unit permits are issued in Clark County. Neighborhoods of stucco homes with tile roofs spring up seemingly overnight. Master-planned communities, which feature strictly conformist building codes and lush landscaping, are particularly popular. Summerlin, in the northwest foothills, has been the nation's fastest-growing master-planned community since 1995. (See our Real Estate chapter for more about neighborhoods.)

The residential boom feeds a commercial and retail economy, with taxable sales now exceeding $16 billion annually--nearly double the 1992 figure. The county is in the top 50 in the nation for retail sales.

Though driven by the growth in gaming, newcomers have other sound economic reasons to come to southern Nevada. The state levies no personal income tax. There is no corporate income tax. Property taxes are relatively low. This all is possible because casinos pay a 6.25 percent gaming tax, which generates nearly half the state's tax revenue.

Just a five-hour drive (or one-hour flight) from Los Angeles, San Diego and Phoenix, Las Vegas is attracting more industry and warehousing operations. In 1997 alone, 37 new companies opened up shop here. Recent arrivals included Black Mountain Studio, FAO Schwarz, NEXTLINK Nevada and Microage Inc. Meantime, Fluid Tech, Levi Strauss, AMIL International of Nevada and El Portal Luggage are among several companies that expanded their presence.

Sixty-five miles north of Las Vegas, the Nevada Test Site has opened its security gates for commercial business. During the coming decade, the workforce population is expected to increase significantly as more and more companies locate there. Not surprisingly, the only companies that will be allowed in are those with interests compatible with the interests of the test site, which will continue to maintain a state of readiness to test nuclear weapons.

In the past few years, Nevada led the nation in the percentage of manufacturing employment. New employers include international companies that have formed U.S. divisions. And while such subsidiaries account for just 3 percent of Nevada's total workforce, the number of Nevadans working in these operations has increased more than 400 percent since 1980. In addition, these companies pay, on average, 17 percent higher wages than other Nevada businesses.

In its lust for new business, the city even agreed to rename a section of town to host Citibank's Western credit card billing center. It seems that the company didn't think its cardholders would want to send their payments to a place that has a similar ring to Lost Wages. So Citicorp's address is simply "The Lakes."

New nongaming projects have had a significant impact on Las Vegas. The diversification has helped keep the unemployment rate below 5 percent.

But that doesn't mean prosperity is omnipresent. While the median household income of $40,500 is roughly average among Western cities, Las Vegas' spiraling growth has pushed prices up at a rapid clip. In the '90s, the city's cost-of-living index has climbed at roughly double the U.S. rate. Costs for groceries and housing are now above the national average. Factoring in overall household expenses and income, the composite cost-of-living index ranks the area less affordable than such Western cities as Albuquerque, New Mexico; Bakersfield, California; Boise, Idaho; Denver, Colorado; and Phoenix and Tucson, Arizona. Among the cities surveyed, only Reno and the California cities of Los Angeles, San Diego and Riverside are pricier.

While Las Vegas flashes its glittery facade, and millions of dollars wash over casino floors every night, a substantial segment of the local population struggles with its family pocketbook. More than a quarter of the local households earn less than $20,000 a year. Meantime, the median price for a single-family home has risen to nearly $130,000.

The result is a good news-bad news scenario: There are lots of jobs, but they tend to be in the lower-paying service sector, so most households must have two wage earners just to make ends meet. It's not unusual for full-time casino workers, especially those at nonunion hotels, to qualify for food stamps and welfare programs.

Some statistics about Las Vegas residents:
Median age - 45.8
Percent white - 72.2%
Percent Hispanic - 12.3%
Percent African American - 8.7%
Percent Asian - 5.8%
Percent male - 47.9%
Percent female - 52.1%

With 4,000 to 5,000 newcomers arriving every month, and births more than doubling deaths, local governments are straining to provide services. Increased air pollution and traffic are two of the most acute growing pains. Cross-town trips that once took 15 minutes can now take triple that time. As a solution, a public transit system was funded through a sales tax increase in 1991. Ridership has been building steadily, especially along the downtown-to-Strip corridor, but Las Vegas is still primarily an auto-driven town, with as many cars per capita as Los Angeles.

With urban sprawl, road construction and fender benders are a way of life. Car insurance rates reflect that reality. Frazzled motorists hitting the freeways during peak commute times--which seem to run from 6 to 10 AM and 4 to 7 PM--are well-advised to tune in to news radio stations that give traffic reports every 10 minutes and to drive defensively at all times. Until re-engineering work is completed sometime this year, it's always sound advice to avoid the interchange of Interstate 15 and U.S. Highway 95 during rush hour. Likewise, motorists should eschew The Strip from Sahara to Tropicana avenues after dark--it's a virtual parking lot. (See our Getting Around chapter.)

If you look past the car in front of you and gaze at the horizon, you'll note that the once crystal-clear mountain vistas are more hazy now. Winter months are particularly smoggy as a dirty brown inversion layer settles over the valley.

The county health district has ordered the use of cleaner-burning oxygenated fuel from November to May in an effort to clear the air. But Mother Nature's contribution, the frequent desert winds, don't tend to clarify things much because they stir up the dust from the many construction sites around the valley. "Vegas nose," congestion from the airborne grit, is a common malady here. So, too, are spring and fall allergies when desert blooms are most prolific. Flowering mulberry trees, a particularly hearty plant, are a prime culprit for pollen, and nurseries are now prohibited from selling them.

Water continues to be a source of concern. While the nearby Colorado River is a bounteous and primary spigot, Nevada gets only 10 percent of the allowed annual allocation (Arizona and California soak up the rest). Ongoing efforts are being made to boost the percentage that was established back in the 1930s, and conservation programs also are cracking down on usage. From May to October, lawn watering is prohibited between noon and 7 PM, peak hours for evaporation.

In the meantime, environmentalists express increasing concern that Lake Mead, created by the damming of the Colorado, is experiencing rising levels of pollution. The lake, which supplies fresh water to the valley, also receives treated effluent pumped back by Las Vegas' sewage plants. Water district officials maintain that the size of the lake and the efficiency of the system ensure safe drinking water for the foreseeable future. After all, we're talking about the largest man-made lake in the Western Hemisphere, with 28.5 million acre-feet of water.

Nevertheless, the need for new facilities and finite resources are steadily boosting water rates. A quarter-percent boost in the 7 percent local sales tax also is being sought to fund expansion of the water-delivery system.

Longtime residents see these problems and their attendant costs as the dark side of growth. They remember when the sales tax was just 3 percent in the 1960s and recall when the Clark County School District could afford to build campuses and keep pace with the population. Today, lively debate revolves around who should pay for the bricks, mortar and services--and how the costs should be borne. In virtually every election, voters are asked to approve bond issues to finance parks, schools, police and other social services. Some of these revenue-raisers pass, and some fail. But, on balance, the result is that property taxes, while still relatively low by national standards, are creeping higher.

Las Vegas is in what's called the High Desert. Actually, it's situated on the tip of three deserts--the Mojave, the Sonoran and the Great Basin. That accounts for our meager 4 inches of rainfall every year and our average of 294 sunny days. Such atmospheric conditions prompted the U.S. government to place a military flying school here at what is now called Nellis Air Force Base. The sunny weather also continues to act as a magnet for sun-starved retirees and others looking for a refuge from blizzards, floods and other natural cataclysms.

But if you think the weather doesn't pose a challenge here, you've probably been out in the sun too long. The heat can be oppressive from May through September. For nearly half the year, daily temperatures approach 100 degrees F. In July and August, the highs will routinely hover near 105 degrees F.

While Easterners hibernate in the winter, Las Vegans try to seal themselves off during the torrid days of summer. That means running air conditioning at home and in their cars. When temperatures hit 110 degrees F, as they do a few days each year, the heat can test even the most grizzled desert rat. At that point, shade doesn't even help and any breeze feels like a blast furnace.

Civic boosters are quick to note that it's "a dry heat." And, true enough, relative humidity rarely exceeds 20 percent. Unlike Phoenix and Palm Springs in the Low Desert, the Las Vegas Valley gets very few afternoon showers, so mugginess is not usually a factor. But the dry heat will dehydrate your body quickly. It's advisable to carry a water bottle (or two) and to wear a hat any time you venture outdoors. Sunscreen is also in order, as the ultraviolet index is usually stuck on high.

So how about the low temperatures? Doesn't it cool off at night? Yes, the mercury might dip to 90 degrees F by 10 PM. Many sun-stunned newcomers are surprised to learn it's hotter at 5 PM than it is at noon. That's because of the "heat island" effect of urban Las Vegas. As the city pours more concrete and asphalt, the ground retains and radiates heat well into the evening hours. As a result, the average minimum temperature has been steadily rising over the last 20 years. This means summer-evening readings may not dip below 75 degrees. And by 10 AM, the mercury is pushing past 90 again.

Outlying regions can get even hotter. Lake Mead and Laughlin to the south will flirt with 115-degree days, though they may cool off a bit more in the nighttime. One popular respite from the heat is Mt. Charleston, 40 miles north of the city. It features scenic outlooks on winding trails and highs that rarely exceed 80 degrees. Evening temperatures dip sharply at dusk.

As befitting a land of extremes, the entire southern Nevada desert can get downright frigid in the winter. Low temperatures from December through February will dip below freezing on many nights. Highs may not hit 50. This temperature variation, spanning 80 degrees from winter to summer, necessitates a good heating system too. The rainy season, and we're using that term loosely, tends to fall mainly in January and February, when nearly half of the 4-inch annual total is registered.

Las Vegas is the term that generically applies to southern Nevada. It is, after all, the largest city in the state. But, to be politically and factually correct, the majority of residents and the biggest casinos are in Clark County.

While the city has its own mayor and council, the county has its county commission. Like the city, the county is divided into five districts, with a commissioner elected from each area. But the county zones are much larger and overlap the city's districts, so city residents are represented on both governmental bodies.

It's been said that a seat on the county commission holds more power and prestige than a seat in the state legislature. In fact, over the years, many ambitious members of the state assembly and state senate have run for the commission. Few have run the other way. Certainly, commissioners represent far more constituents. And by holding the property-tax purse strings on all the high-priced real estate along The Strip, the commission wields much financial clout.

Las Vegas and Clark County have a generally workable coexistence, but the bureaucratic intricacies can be confusing. Though the city and county have their own fire departments, the Metropolitan Police Department is headed by a popularly elected sheriff whose force serves both jurisdictions. The city and county have separate parks departments, but residents are encouraged to cross city-county boundaries to use the facilities. The Las Vegas-Clark County Library District is similar to the police model and spans the areas as its name implies.

Indeed, not many Las Vegans could show you the borders of their city--the lines are that indistinguishable. Generally, the city limits are north of Sahara Avenue and west of Eastern Avenue. But within that region are pockets of unincorporated county territory. The day may come when those lines are erased altogether, which is what the proponents of a truly consolidated regional government want. With City Hall and the County Government Center a mere 2 miles from each other downtown, a merger is always possible.