Columnist John Katsilometes: They come from afar to visit LV

Monday, April 10, 2000 | 9:10 a.m.

Once it was third-cousin Tom. He called me unexpectedly at work.

"Hey, I'm in town," he said, the muffled murmur of slot machines barely audible in the background. "I'm at the Bellagio."

Because I have two cousins named Tom who sound almost identical on the phone, I asked which Tom this was.

"Commissioner Tom," he said.

I ran a quick search of my memory banks. Ah yes, cousin Tom. A county commissioner in Pocatello, Idaho. Used to be a lifeguard. And a Golden Gloves boxer. He officiates professional bouts from time to time.

I haven't actually seen cousin Tom since the summer of 1984. I seem to remember him complaining about the lagging Mondale presidential campaign and Lionel Richie's lame performance at the closing ceremonies of the '84 Summer Olympics.

Another time it was another cousin, George. He called me at home, also without warning, from the Excalibur.

Similar situation. I remembered George being a sports writer in Pocatello the last time I saw him. That was in 1989. Now he's a stockbroker, as well as a husband and father.

Were it not for living in Las Vegas, I would not have reunited with cousins Tom or George for maybe another 10 years, if ever. They never coincidentally visited my former place of residence, Redding, Calif. I never got a call from fringe family members who happened to be passing through Redding. It's a town on your way to somewhere else (such as Oregon) in the upper reaches of Northern California on Interstate 5.

They don't hold huge conventions for politicians or stockbrokers in Redding. There is no sexy "Redding: Open 24 Hours" national advertising campaign.

It's been four years since I moved from there to here. Less than two months after I arrived my entire family paid a surprise visit. We welcomed parents, aunts, cousins and grandparents with arthritic hips and artificial knees who hate flying but were happy to board a plane to Las Vegas.

Dad drove eight hours and brother Bill made a 10-hour road trip two weeks ago just to see Las Vegas (and ostensibly to visit me). They spent most of the trip talking about plans for their next visit. Mom is a frequent flier on Southwest from Boise; friends and former co-workers from California are always looking for excuses ("Hey! Styx is in town!") to visit Las Vegas. One call I got at work about a year ago was from an excited woman who said, "You'll never guess who this is. Barbara Tehle! Kris Tehle's mother!"

I had a crush on Kris Tehle. In sixth grade.

It can be maddening, sure. Every weekend it's the in-laws, or a member of your wedding party, or the orthopedic surgeon your mother worked for in the mid-'80s, or a buddy you shared office space with five years ago. But by Monday morning, when your feet ache from escorting giddy relatives through the Venetian and Caesars and Bellagio or any other behemoth resort, you're actually quite thankful.

It its own quirky way, this place brings people together. It's a quality I cherish.