Las Vegas, our nearest metropolitan area here in Nevada, sure has changed over the years.
I first visited Sin City back in the 1950’s with my parents and brother Terry. We lived in Southern California at the time, so the trip was at least 350 miles long. There was no Interstate 15 at the time. Instead, there was a two-lane highway with minimal amenities, steep grades, and few gas stations. Most passenger cars back then (especially the cheap station wagon that we had!) didn’t have air conditioning and it was common to utilize a burlap-covered water bag hung over the radiator to cool it down somewhat. Engine overheating was a BIG problem and we passed lots of broken down cars along the route, particularly on the long, steep Baker grade out in the middle of the desert.
Back in those days, there was a tiny gas station at Stateline (now called Primm) that I think had one pump and a one-armed-bandit inside, at the site of the current Whiskey Pete’s Casino and Hotel. Between Stateline and Las Vegas was all desert: no town of Jean, no state prison, no Nevada Landing, no Terrible Herbst mega-gas station, no nada. Just a tw0-lane highway to share with 18-wheelers.
That first time, we stayed at an “off Strip” motel in Las Vegas that had a swimming pool, which made Terry and I quite happy. My parents made the trip to do a little gambling and also see a Shecky Greene comedy show at one of the several casino hotels on the Strip (Las Vegas Boulevard). There weren’t that many back then: the Flamingo, the Sands, the Oasis, the Dunes, the Sahara, the Aladdin, and a few others, as I recall.
The downtown gaming area, along Fremont Street, was alive and thriving. My Dad took us to the El Cortez Hotel for dinner one night: they had the famous “50-cent Shrimp Cocktail” appetizer and a Prime Rib dinner that cost less than $7.00. Back then, they practically gave away food at the casino/hotels, trying to entice folks in there so their pockets could be picked by the “one-arm-bandits”. A number of hotels featured the “99-cent Breakfast”, which consisted of steak and eggs, hashbrowns, a small sirloin steak, and toast.
My parents, who were on a strict budget, took advantage of the cheap food.
I think the Mafia was pretty much running things in Vegas back then and making money was serious, adult business. Kids weren’t welcome and the laws/rules that the casinos operated under forbid minors from entering casinos. Eating at the El Cortez, for example, required our party of four to keep on a carpet, bordered by stanchions, from the front door all the way back to the restaurant. Along that gauntlet were lots of slot machines just outside the stanchions, so that restaurant customers could step over and drop a few bucks in the slot machines while they waited. Thus, a $7 Prime Rib dinner often turned into a $10 or $15 meal.
Probably because organized crime secretly controlled things, and they wanted everything to look classy and aboveboard, it was a much more formal town back then. Evening shows back then featured well-known performers like Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, Dean Martin, and variety acts that folks might see watching the Ed Sullivan Show on TV. Visitors got dressed up to go to the shows and to the casinos. No tank tops, hip hop clothes, sweatpants, jogging outfits, jeans, bathing suits, and bared boobs and butt cracks like we see today on The Strip. Prostitutes were doing a fine business in town, but there were not the proliferation of “out call” services flyers littering the Strip sidewalks like we see today.
The “Outfit” may have been skimming a lot of dough from the casino operations but, aside from that, the hotels and gaming areas had a respectable sheen, unlike today, when you might feel a bit slimy after blowing some of your hard-earned.
I’ve visited Las Vegas dozens of times since the Fifties, and every time I’ve rolled into town… it looks different. They are always tearing down stuff, building more stuff, and enlarging the roadways to make it easier for Southern Californians to bring all that cash into town.
Charlie and I would occasionally drive up to Vegas in the early years of our marriage for a quick getaway. We didn’t have much money, so we always stopped at the “coupon book” joint as we entered town. The coupon book had all manner of discounts on gaming, hotel stays, meals and a few freebies, as well. There were “59-cent Breakfast” offers, “free Shrimp Cocktail” deals, “free Spin” opportunities on slot machines, “free” casino chips (distributed over a 24-hour period, a foot-long hot dog for 50 cents, and the like. Charlie and I would go “couponing”, which meant going to a casino, using a specific coupon for the freebies offered, and then walk out the door and head for the next coupon opportunity.
It was great fun and we felt like we were putting it too the casino owners. HaHa.
Back in the day, the shows in Las Vegas weren’t as expensive as they are today. Many were of the showgirl/variety show genre, like the Lido de Paris, where the customer would be seated in very tight quarters with a bunch of strangers, and the alcoholic drinks served were expensive and watered-down. One could avoid the sardine can situation by bribing the showroom boss as you entered the place. For $5 or $10 bucks, that “gentleman” might miraculously find you a good table or even a booth. (I’m sure those tuxedoed-fellows were Mafia soldiers and I’ll bet that they made hundreds of dollars per night fleecing customers who were desperate to see Elvis or Wayne Newton up-close-and-personal.)
In the late-70’s and early 80’s, Vegas was still a fairly classy place to visit, particularly on the Strip. The downtown hotels/casinos (off of Fremont Street) were pretty run down except, possibly, the Golden Nugget, which had been renovated by Steve Wynn and had TV ads featuring Frank Sinatra requesting extra towels. Fremont Street itself was populated by a lot of bums, winos, pickpockets and prostitutes: it was not a very nice place to take an evening stroll with your wife or girlfriend. Still, if you wanted to do a lot of gambling with limited funds, downtown was the place to go. Binions, the Fremont, the Plaza, and a few small joints had $1 minimum bet Craps, which was music to my ears because I was definitely a “low roller”.
I’m not sure when Las Vegas began its slide into complete tackiness, trying to become an adult Disneyland. Probably when the corporations took over from the Mafia, I suppose.
Caesar’s Palace was, is, and probably always will be the mega hotel/casino/entertainment venue that everyone copies. It was the first themed resort on the Strip, beginning in 1966, and was always a trend-setter in opulence, fine dining, and entertainment. Many tear-downs of old Strip hotels/casinos have occurred over the decades, each one followed by the construction of a outlandishly-themed facility with lots of glitz and glitter. At some point, some genius bean-counters got the idea that Las Vegas could be much more profitable if folks could bring their kids to town. So, a few amusement park/casino/hotels were built… and failed. MGM Grand had one for awhile. Circus Circus still has a kid-friendly theme, but the place is run down, tacky, filthy, and mainly serves low-income types who should not be wasting family resources in Sin City.
Las Vegas used to be relatively inexpensive to visit: rooms were cheap, food was cheap, and the nighttime shows were reasonable. Not so anymore. Hotel rooms can be very pricey, depending on when you go. Food is no longer cheap. Taxis fares are expensive. Back in the day, a couple could enjoy the Elvis Presley dinner show at the International Hotel for $100 or less. Nowadays, just to sit in a hotel showroom and watch a top flight entertainer (with no dinner and no drinks included) can cost a couple a king’s ransom. Charlie and I saw Celine Dion many years ago at Caesar’s for $150 apiece (not worth the money, in my opinion!) and later Elton John’s “Red Piano” show for around $200 apiece (the best concert I’ve ever seen). Craps tables on The Strip routinely have $25 minimum chips… so a gambler needs $250 to $500 in chips just to sidle up to the table and try to avoid losing his bankroll in ten minutes.
It seems that a new themed hotel/casino appears on the Las Vegas skyline about every six to twelve months, each one bigger and more gaudy than the last. Some of the trend-setters from back in the 80’s and 90’s are being bulldozed for more spectacular resort structures. The Mirage, once Steve Wynn’s flagship, is in the process of transfiguring itself into a Hard Rock Hotel and Casino. I believe that the pirate ship attraction in front of Treasure Island is going bye-bye, as well.
The individuals/corporations who owned the derelict joints along Fremont Street decided many years ago to revitalize the downtown gaming area. The Fremont Street owners pooled their resources and created “The Experience”, a vehicle-prohibited mall from Main Street to Las Vegas Avenue, covered with an LED display that puts on a fantastic 5-minute animated show every hour in the evening. This gimmick, along with law enforcement pushing the vagrants off of Fremont Street, really invigorated tourism in the downtown area. It is now a major attraction of its own, much like New Orleans’ Bourdon Street, with all manner of vendors and street performers active in the mall. It has become pretty tacky in recent years, with lots of panhandlers present in superhero and showgirl costumes (and attention-seekers, like the guy only wearing a thong with a sign hanging from his neck that says, “Kick me in the balls for $5”) and a zip line running the whole length of the mall.
Hey, it’s Las Vegas, where “what happens here stays here”. (Actually, in this day of social media, the asinine things that people do in Vegas can actually come back to bite them in their everyday lives when a video of them goes viral)
For six years, I ran the Riverside County Fair and National Date Festival in Indio. Each year, the international fair industry holds its national convention in Vegas, so Charlie and I were obligated to go. It was a reunion of fair managers, their wives, and fair industry vendors and entertainers, and we always had a great time. Most every entertainer in the U.S. who worked the concert circuit was there during the convention, performing at the various resort hotels or “showcasing” their talents to the 1,000 venue operators (I was one), seeking a contract deal for a limited performance. We booked all of our main stage entertainment there for our Fair’s 10-day run.
Some of our fair industry friends were fun-loving. One night, several couples were looking for something different to do when one of the wives said, “Let’s go to the Palomino Club!” It is a well-known strip joint in North Las Vegas. I think we paid a $16 per person cover charge (drinks not included). The strippers were hardly gorgeous international models; rather, they were haggard druggies and worn-out local hookers who came into the joint from a back alley, did their strip routine, and hoped that the customers would shower them with dollar bills. It was disgusting, and we left after about ten minutes.
Something that wasn’t disgusting was the time that Charlie and I went up to Vegas to see Shania Twain in concert at MGM Grand. We knew the parents of a female instrumentalist who played in Shania’s band. They were able to get the four of us choice seats, right up at the stage, where we got to see Shania Twain do her thing from about 50’ distance. She was absolutely great (and not hard to look at!)
Later in my life, after the Fair business, I got into equestrian stuff (amateur cowboying and rodeoing) and got to see the world famous PRCA Finals at the Thomas and Mack arena. It is the Olympics of rodeoing, and it was a fantastic spectacle in an intimate setting (the spectator sits right above the action). Really cool. The PRCA thing takes place in the Holiday season, and one of the great side benefits is “Cowboy Christmas”, which is a huge showcase of Western wear, furniture, and equestrian gear that it held at two venues, the LV Convention Center and at South Point Hotel and Casino. Charlie and I loved it.
Another change in my life involved taking up bowling when I was about 60. I quickly mastered the game, got into some leagues, bowled four 300 games, and was having a lot of fun. Several of the leagues had season-ending tournament finals in Las Vegas and I attended those from time to time. On one occasion, I was at the Orleans Hotel and Casino with my teammate George Knapp, eating a hamburger at Fuddrucker’s, when I noticed some fantastic tattoo art on our servers’ arm. She told me who the tattooist was, kind of a legendary guy there in Vegas. It was either the week of Mother’s Day or Valentine’s Day (I’m not sure), but I decided to give Charlie (who was back home in So Cal) a romantic gift… a heart tattoo. So, I went to the parlor, got the owner himself (the famous tattooist) to do my ink, and it turned out very nice. Charlie was touched when I came home and showed her the gift.
Speaking of tats, I also got inked up on another occasion in Vegas. Charlie wanted a dog paw tattoo for her ankle and hooked up with a nice, young, bald-headed gal (her head was shaved in solidarity with a friend undergoing chemo) who did the job in short order. I asked her if she could do a portrait of Baby, our newest Boston Terrier. No problem, she said. It took about an hour; Charlie watched.
Las Vegas is a city known for low-budget weddings. Charlie’s first wedding was held at the Wee Kirk of the Heather in downtown Las Vegas back in the 1960’s. Many years later, our son Tim and fiancé Shanon were married on the Strip at a chapel in the parking lot of the Hacienda, as I recall. On that same trip to Sin City, our son Jon married his girlfriend Hollie at the County Clerk’s office (talk about an inexpensive ceremony!). That marriage didn’t last, but Tim and Shanon are still together after about 30 years and three children. Many years later, my widowed Mom fell prey to a bullshitter named Ray DuShane, we accompanied them up to Vegas, and they tied the knot in a simple chapel ceremony. That marriage didn’t last; Ray passed away a few years later. Who says God doesn’t answer prayers?
New Year’s is always a special time in Sin City. One year, Charlie’s employer at the time, a Black psychiatrist named Barbara Hundley, and her husband, who was also a doctor, took us up to Vegas for New Year’s at Caesar’s. Dr. Hundley (the psychiatrist) was a full-blown gamble-a-holic, whereas her husband was very conservative and didn’t gamble much, if at all. Dr. Hundley was a slot machine fanatic, and played special machines at Caesar’s that took $5 coins, three at a time. She got racks of these high-roller coins, plopped down in front of one of the machines, and began to play as fast as the machine would allow, at $15 a pop. At the time, I guesstimated that she was gambling at least $1,000 per hour, and she gambled pretty much all day for two days. Her husband looked disgusted, but she was the Boss, evidently. One good thing about the trip was the world light heavyweight fight that we saw, in person, in the Caesar’s arena. Another good thing happened at the airport, when we were getting ready to fly home. Dr. Hundley spent the half-hour waiting for the plane by feeding a slot machine there in the terminal. It was a $1 dollar machine, as I recall, and she pumped a lot of silver dollars into that useless machine. Finally, with the plane about to depart, she gave up in disgust. I had a few silver dollars left, so I put them in the machine and … SONOFABITCH… I hit a jackpot (I think it was $250). Then the plane arrived and we flew out. Dr. Hundley was not pleased that I had won on “her” machine.
Speaking of sick gamblers, one of my fellow workers at the County of Riverside was named Tony Carstens. He was a great guy and was married to a nice gal named Rolene. They were seriously-committed slot-a-holics, did a lot of gambling at So Cal and Las Vegas casinos, and got “perks” for doing so. We once went up to Vegas with them and stayed in a hotel where they had been “comped” with rooms, some meals, and a few free “pulls”. They thought that they were getting over on their casino hosts. However, the two of them hammered those 25-cent video poker slots almost continuously while we were there, only sleeping a few hours each night. They got a few Royal Flushes in the 48-hour marathon, but they put a lot of coins (5 quarters per pull) into those machines. I’ve got to believe that they regularly lose money, otherwise the casinos wouldn’t offer them goodies to return. Tony and Rolene had no hobbies or kids, as I recall, so this lifestyle was “together time” for them and… who’s to judge?
I used to enjoy playing craps before it got too pricey, and eagerly anticipated our trips to Vegas so I could try my luck. I am a conservative guy with money, and had done enough research on gambling to know that “pass line” gambling “with odds” on the crap table gave the gambler the best odds of winning at a casino. I got pretty good at it. My son Tim wanted to try it out himself, so one time Charlie and I and Tim and his wife Shanon made the six-hour drive up I-15 to give it a try. On the way, I orally taught Tim how to play craps: what to do, what not to do, knowing when to bail, etc. He was an eager student. I think we stayed at the Golden Nugget downtown on that trip, and once we got settled, Tim and I went across the Fremont Street to Binion’s Horseshoe Casino, the home of the World Poker Championship. As we entered the casino, we heard a lot of yelling and cheering at a crap table, so we approached and watched. A lady was rolling the dice and doing quite well. We found a place along the rail and I told Tim, “Do what I do”. And, he did. That lady must have rolled the dice for a half-hour without crapping out, and we made a bunch of dough (I think I made $800 and Tim made a bit less). When the lady crapped out, I said, “Let’s boogie”. And, we did. When we walked over to the Fremont, where the girls were playing “treasure chest” video poker, we found out that they’d also won a bunch of money. Lucky Tim decided to play a few hands of Twenty-One and made another hundred bucks or so. I think it was their first gambling experience in Las Vegas and they got the wrong impression that money was there for the taking… haha.
Some Las Vegas memories:
Going to a cheap Tropicana Hotel “comedy club” one evening where one of the three “undiscovered” entertainers was a young, nobody named Drew Carey, who was hilarious
Every time I’ve spent a day at Caesar’s Sports Book, the greatest such facility in the world, betting on horse races… always fun whether you win or lose
Enjoying the International Buffet at the Rio, the best buffet in Vegas
Pigging out on King Crab at Palace Station… all you could eat for under $20, as I recall
Shopping with Charlie at the Fashion Show Mall on the Strip, maybe the nicest shopping mall in the U.S.
Accompanying Charlie to Serge’s Wig Shop on Sahara Boulevard, the place where all of the showgirls get their hairpieces and where Charlie got several over the years
Going to the Red Rock Cinema, one of the first megaplexes in America, to take a break from gambling and shopping
Taking our puppy BonBon to an emergency surgery (during the Pandemic!) to repair her broken femur
Staying a weekend at the Luxor (the pyramid hotel/casino), the most unusual structure on The Strip
Eating a nice Prime Rib dinner at Siegel’s restaurant in the El Cortez Hotel, one of the original downtown hotel/casinos
Witnessing a fatal truck crash on the way home from Vegas on I-15 at the off-ramp to the since demolished Nevada Landing Hotel and Casino in Jean (now a Terrible Herbst gas station complex)
Witnessing a truck towing a travel trailer blow off the road on the Baker Grade (I-15), crash in the desert, and disintegrate
Watching a friend of ours bungee jump of the top of the Stratosphere Tower, an 800′ plunge
Getting our initial Covid-19 vaccinations at the Martin Luther King community center building in North Las Vegas
Seeing Celine Dion and Elton John concerts at the Caesar’s Palace Amphitheatre and a Lionel Ritchie concert at the Thomas and Mack Auditorium
Stopping whenever possible at Peggy Sue’s Diner in Yermo, on the drive into Las Vegas, to enjoy my favorite menu item: Chicken Fried Steak and Eggs (served 24/7), the best in the world
Charlie and I now live in Mesquite, Nevada, only 70 miles north of Sin City on I-15, and we hardly ever go into Las Vegas.
The town has gotten too big, too fast, and has become yet another urbanized monster with traffic jams, lots of crime, and homeless people. The Strip and the downtown Fremont Street entertainment areas have become overwhelmed with tourists, many of them “low class” folks, in my opinion, trying to impress each other and their friends back home (via selfies) with how outlandish and tacky they can be.
The city seems to be reinventing itself every year or so, with more high-rise structures, more neon, and more attention-grabbing features… which require a lot of electricity and water… while the city can reasonably foresee a future where electricity and water will be in short supply, due to the drought and impact on Lake Mead. And, all of those new, flashy, and gimmicky hotel and casino features cost oodles of money, which is passed along to visitors via room rates, expensive food, and “resort fees” tacked on by the city.
It looks spectacular now, but I’m glad that we were able to enjoy “Lost Wages” in its heyday, when it was a smaller, classier, more affordable and fun place to visit.