About six weeks ago I got so tired of nothing on television but screaming white trash housewives, infomercials and rerun after rerun after rerun I cancelled the cable. I was nervous about it. I've watched a couple of soap operas since they first aired. Would I miss them? Then I learned I could watch them on my computer and that opened up a whole new world. It took a month to figure out I can watch all of network television on the internet . . . with no reruns - unless I want them.
I do admit to being addicted to MSNBC, CNN and FOX. But, despite my addication, I was fed up with the constant 24/7 political blabbering. At least MSNBC fills in their lack of substance with prison shows, but enough is enough. Now I read the news on the internet or buy a newspaper. I can watch Scott Pelle any time I want (he's so cute with that white hair). But this isn't about my disapppointment in the level to which television has sunk. It's about Las Vegas and the reason I miss Las Vegas despite living here.
In my search for things to entertain me on the internet I discovered episodes of VEGA$ with Robert Urich as Dan Tana from the 70s. I sat and watched and watched until my behind got tired. Then I decided I needed some exercise and took a walk down the Strip from Sahara to Convention Center Drive down Convention Center Drive to Paradise and through the LVH (formerly the Las Vegas Hilton and prior to that, when Elvis began appearing there, the International). That is one beautiful hotel done right. They have new ownerhip, or at least conservatorship in bankruptcy, and it looks good. They've even made good use of casino space that wasn't drawing by increasing the bar to include a lounge/nightclub. I won't be going to see if there's any business. I have no desire to listen to a D.J. play that thumping noise they call music today. For me, if I'm going out, I want to see the musicians playing the music. I want to "feel their vibe." And that's the beginning of what I miss about Las Vegas.
The city is no longer the entertainment capital of the world. Unless they're acrobats flying through the air or rolling across the stage in elaborate costumes and make-up there are virtually no entertainers left, and showgirls are a dying breed. Sure, there are one night concerts. So what. You can get that anywhere across the country. Las Vegas is supposed to be special.
People used to plan their trips around the entertainers who were in the showrooms for at least two weeks at a stretch. I remember seeing Kenny Rogers and the First Edition in the lounge at the Sands in the afternoon free of charge, and I was the only one there, but the music was there. The live bodies of entertainers were performing, and everyone in the casino knew they were there. They didn't have to be sitting in the lounge to enjoy the entertainment.
At one time in the 70s the marquee at the Desert Inn had nine acts on it. None of them were D.J.s or canned music - we used to call that a Sock Hop. They were live, talented performers, some of them with full orchestras.
And Las Vegas architecture is gone. Las Vegas is supposed to be big, gaudy and neon with its own identity. Of course, there is virtually no architecture left on the walk I took. The old El Rancho site at the Strip and Sahara has been a vacant lot for decades. Across the street the Sahara is closed, under construction and going to be called something like SLS. Its best Las Vegas feature, the neon dome at the entry, has been demolished. The water park next door has been closed for years and is a vacant desert lot. The old Thunderbird/Silverbird/second incarnation of the name El Rancho which stood vacant for years has been demolished. The half built Fountainbleu has been standing - half built - for years and is known as cat city for all the ferral cats is houses.
At least Circus Circus stands as it did in every episode of VEGA$. It is a beacon in a very dim stretch of land. Next door Slots a Fun, described as "this used to be an awsome place," by someone walking though at the same time I was, is now an empty cavern with slot machines on either end and chairs and beer pong tables in the center. It was a great little dive. Now it doesn't live up to dive standards.
They moved the McDonald's and demolished Denny's when they tore down the Stardust, and the wonderful Westward Ho with its horrible entertainment and great neon umbrellas is gone as is everything for the next half mile on the west side of the Strip.
As I looked across the street, I smiled and silently thanked the new owners of the Riviera for keeping the name and whole Las Vegas cainso aura. They've got a tough row to hoe sitting out there surrounded by nothing. The La Concha with it conch shell exterior and the round check-in/gift shop of the El Morrcco are vacant lots. Even the half priced show ticket kiosks were closed.
But hallelujah! The wonderful, wonderful Peppermill stands proud. I don't know that the food is as good as its reputation, but I can tell you that the bar is still the sexiest bar I've ever been in. They have added a lot of neon since the last time I was there. For a split second I thought "no!" Then I thought, Cool! This is the place in Las Vegas where you take someone to romance them.
They have turned the Silver City Casino into a Ross Dress for Less, and of course, a Walgreens. What would the world be without a Walgreens on every major corner? Not as good as it is. I love going from one store to the other in any state and always feeling at home. They haven't changed much since they built the first one in my hometown when I was ten. It's perfect and a success story from which Las Vegas developers could learn. If it ain't, broke don't fix it.
The indoor skydiving place is still there. I tried it once. Thought I was going to die and sprained my finger when I slammed into the wall. The guy who flies with you told me I was the ONLY person he'd ever had smash into the wall. I believed him. I watched a lot of people before I tried it. I won't be doing it again, but anyone with a little adventure in them, and strong bones, might want to give it go.
Next on the stop was the Royal Resort. This place used to be, by far, the biggest dive in town. It is now the best place in town. It's a small hotel with a few slot machines, has a great bar, a fantastic restaurant, fabulous outside dining and tremendous decor. If you're looking for romance, go to the Peppermill. If you're looking for a drink and a little upscale intimate atmosphere, make it the Royal.
The Bank of America building still stands in it's mirrored glory on Convention Center Dr. as it did in episodes of VEGA$. It is mostly empty since the D.O.E., Bank of America and the Public Utilites Comission left. Who cares. It's a beautiful building -- by Las Vegas standards.
The homey Landmark Pharmacy is now vacant as is most of the space in the Somerset Shopping Mall. It's sad the property has been allowed to run down, but at the height of the Real Estate boom in Las Vegas it was sold for many, many millions, but the deal fell through. Now it languishes in growing ruin.
My personal favorite, the wonderful, wonderful Landmark with its spire reaching into the sky, seen so many times on VEGA$, is gone. I used to seek up a back service stairway from the suite floors in the middle of the day and sit, alone, looking over the city, watching it expand into the desert. Now, in its place, is a parking lot. I may miss the Landmark more than anything that has disappeared into dust in the last fifteen years.
As I walked down Paradise to my little house in the neighborhood where the casino executives used to live, I couldn't wait to get back to my computer, Dan Tana and VEGA$ and immerse myself in what used to be and what should still be Las Vegas architecture and gaudiness.
Speaking of gaudy. Just because it's new and has trees and walkways in front doesn't mean they haven't done Las Vegas interior gaudy one better in at least one of the new casinos, but that's for later. It's back to Dan Tana and, remembering the Desert Inn and listening to the operator page Burt Cohen and Ralph Lamb. Those were the days.
The Stardust was a city block long with spitting fountains in front and a fascade that frequently won the Las Vegas Review Journal's "Best Of" award - for worst front. It was pink and purple and reflective with a flashing neon sign and palm trees and landscaping.
Tommy's Steak House, perhaps the best place for steaks in Las Vegas until five years ago, was housed in the Algiers, across the street and slightly to the north of the Stardust on the site where the unfinished Fountainbleau now sits. 
