It’s an old custom that elevates animals, flowers and trees to “official” status in their home states. It’s gotten sillier over the years here in Nevada with the addition of a state fossil, grass, soil, artifact, and tartan. Tartan? Yes, Nevada is somehow a highland clan, which obviously requires it to have a plaid.

I was actually interested in the state’s official song, which was easy enough to find. “Home Means Nevada” is a sweet little ditty (especially when sung by Mrs. Alami’s and Mrs. Paragini’s 3rd Grade classes accompanied by an old piano at Greenbrae Elementary School up in Sparks).

Home means Nevada, home means the hills,
Home means the sage and the pines.
Out by the Truckee’s silvery rills, out where the sun always shines.
There is a land that l love the best,
Fairer than all I can see.
Right in the heart of the golden West .
Home means Nevada to me.

If I lived, like Mrs. Alami’s and Mrs. Paragini’s third graders, “out by the Truckee’s silvery rills,” this song might do something for me besides remind me that Las Vegas doesn’t exist in the same universe as the rest of Nevada .

So then I began wondering whether Las Vegas—since it so obviously boogies to a different drummer from the rest of the state—has its own official song. “Viva Las Vegas” is probably the most obvious candidate for “unofficial” song, but when governments, even in Sin City, enter anthem-picking mode, they never seem to go for lyrics like:

There’s a thousand pretty women waitin’ out there,
And they’re all livin’ devil may care,
And I’m just the devil with love to spare

even when they have a morally acceptable chorus:

Viva, Las Vegas!

Although it’s not “Viva, Las Vegas,” the City of Las Vegas does appear to have a quasi-officially sanctioned song, George Dare’s “Shine Las Vegas.” While it focuses on the neon, it sticks to fairly safe territory in its lyrics:

Shine, shine, shine, Las Vegas
Shine your light on me.
Turn on the magic that you weave so well
‘Cause I’m coming out to play

The song’s verses mention evening fun, lounging by the pool, and dreams coming true, but the song stays abstract about what “coming out to play” means. Even so, it’s definitely not a song for third graders and old piano. Neither is the only other possibility I turned up: longtime Strip headliner Clint Holmes’ song, “L.V.” Its chorus, “Anything you want us to be” is a nice thought for fantasy-seeking tourists, but sung by schoolchildren, it turns creepy.

Having found two songs that have actually been contenders for civic stamps of approval, I decided I might as well apply some Google power and see if there were any other ditties that capture the flavor of Vegas while also meeting the standards necessary for officialdom. To simplify things, I applied the third-grade test. Could I find a song about Las Vegas that elementary schoolchildren could sing without their teachers getting into hot water?

A couple thousand keystrokes and popup windows hawking ringtones later, I’ve got a one word answer: no. To give you a taste of what I discovered, apply the third-grade test to these lyrics:

Your love is like a city that burnt me good.
Oh, Las Vegas, I could only afford one weekend.

Or these:

Drugs, rock and roll,
Bad ass Vegas hoes,
Late nights, booty calls,
Shiny disco balls

Even though these are a bit milder, imagine the little darlings singing:

Now we’re leaving Las Vegas two times,
Crazy Horse Too spent us dry…

In the wake of Mayor Goodman’s revelation to schoolchildren that he’d want a bottle of gin if he were stranded on a desert island, these lyrics could be nearly acceptable:

Well, the first time I lose I drink whiskey,
Second time I lose I drink gin,
Third time I lose I drink anything
‘Cause I think I’m gonna win.
Ooh, Las Vegas!

But really, the nicest image of all – a school assembly and proud parents in attendance –

People get really drunk in Las Vegas
They get really drunk in Las Vegas
Really f***king drunk in Las Vegas
But that’s where I’ll be spending my time.

I guess it boils down to a simple fact we might as well own up to. Las Vegas is like a stripper. She doesn’t break any laws, and she brings home good money. But on “take your kid to work day,” she can’t. She can’t go to school for “career week,” either. She’d be no more appropriate than the school glee club singing “People Get Really Drunk in Las Vegas.”

I think it’s doubtful that Las Vegas will ever find an anthem that can truly reflect the city’s personality and also pass the third-grade test. It’s the price she must pay for being so good at her job that a tomato farmer in Oaxaca, a shop clerk in Sydney, and a Mongolian throat singer all know her reputation. Of course there’s more to a person than her profession, but when you’re a superstar, the ordinary bits are irrelevant. When you’re Vegas, baby, nobody wants to sing about your libraries.

Or do they? Have I missed the perfect Las Vegas song? Your comments and suggestions are most welcome. In the meantime, I hope you’ll enjoy this vintage Dean Martin tape that includes a slightly politically incorrect Vegas version of Cole Porter’s “I Love Paris.”