Unable to resist the appeal of white caps on the Spring Mountains, I took a quick excursion out Highway 160 this afternoon. Dozens of other people were out there, too, many armed with tripods and far better cameras than my little point-and-shoot. Fortunately, snow on red rock looks good even through a small lens. Here are a few pictures I snapped on my delightful afternoon break.
If body language is any indication, Garth Brooks and Steve Wynn are in perfect synch as they announce Brooks' new concert series at the Wynn resort
Putting his retirement on hold, Garth Brooks is coming to the Wynn showroom where Danny Gans took his final bow. Steve Wynn joined Brooks on his new stage today to make the announcement of Brooks’ upcoming concert series official. Tickets will go on sale October 24th at 8:00 a.m. As part of an effort to thwart scalpers, ticket purchasers will be asked to present identification. Tickets — one price only — will be $125. Performances begin December 11th, and the show will run for fifteen weeks. There will be one show on Fridays, two shows on Saturdays, and one show on Sundays.
Garth Brooks responds to questions from journalists
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Last September, I was among the throng of revelers cheering the opening of the Erotic Heritage Museum. A week ago, I was back to celebrate the museum’s first birthday. While the assemblage this time was smaller and more subdued than the crowd a year ago, it still reflected an exuberant predilection for exhibitionism. Because people clad in nothing more than paint are extremely photogenic, I was glad my camera battery was fully juiced and my memory card empty. Here are a few of my photos, and if your curiosity is piqued, make a point of visiting the museum in person. You may not run into an artist painting a nude woman when you go, but you can count on finding an impressive erotic art collection and a vast array of other sexy artifacts. Are you a prude? Stay away.
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On screen: an electronic dealer interacts with players at the Riviera
I was at the Riviera tonight and noticed this virtual dealer. I’m not a player, but this struck me as not particularly appealing. Slots and video poker are one thing, but sitting down with Videoman just wouldn’t do it for me. Am I just hopelessly “last century?” Is this accepted as ho-hum normal these days, or even cool? Oh, and one other question… do you have to tip this guy?
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Last night, I drove up to the Rampart Casino in Summerlin, where Jack Sheehan was signing copies of his newest book, Quiet Kingmaker of Las Vegas. The drive was definitely worth it, not only because I got my copy autographed, but also because Sheehan rested his signing hand for a few minutes and shared some of his experiences writing the book with the assembled crowd.
“Quiet Kingmaker,” Sheehan told us, is a biography of E. Parry Thomas, told through interviews with the man himself and a number of his famous friends and business partners. Sheehan interviewed Steve Wynn, for example, and Robert Maheu, Howard Hughes’ “alter ego.”
While Thomas, who has never sought the limelight, may be an unfamiliar name to many, he’s long been the man behind the curtain. As banker to Howard Hughes and a laundry list of shady characters other bankers shunned, Thomas brokered most of the deals that created today’s Las Vegas. As if that weren’t enough to warrant a biography, Thomas is also the reason UNLV has a decent-sized campus in the center of town. Realizing that the school could never grow to any kind of stature on its paltry fifty-acre stake, Thomas spearheaded an effort that led to the acquisition of hundreds of acres the state could never have afforded to buy.
Quiet Kingmaker of Las Vegas, by Jack Sheehan
I’ve only just begun to read Sheehan’s biography of the straight-arrow Mormon banker who built Sin City, but I’m already savoring a story that’s better than fiction. Sheehan’s knowledge of and appreciation for Las Vegas history lends depth and color, and he has captured first-hand accounts from a rapidly vanishing era. Maheu, for example, passed away just a few months after speaking with Sheehan.
In his remarks last night, Sheehan said that if you ask a random taxi driver who the Thomas & Mack Center is named for, chances are he’ll tell you they were two star athletes. While I’m glad to say that I did already know the story behind the stadium’s name, there’s much more about Las Vegas’ past I have yet to learn. I’m grateful to Jack Sheehan for this timely effort to preserve a fading segment of local history. Quiet Kingmaker fills an important gap.
After attending “Kelly Clinton’s Open Mic Cabaret” on opening night last Monday, I couldn’t resist heading back to the Bootlegger last night for the second installment. Once again, the show was fabulous, with numbers by Clint Holmes, Mark Giovi, Bill Fayne, Jimmy Hopper, and a host of other performers who rocked the place until well after 1:00 a.m.
If you haven’t enjoyed a Monday night at the Bootlegger, don’t procrastinate. Not only is it the best entertainment value in town, it gives you an insider’s view of all the talent bubbling around us here in the “entertainment capital of the world.” Careers have been launched at the Bootlegger, and Kelly’s show is where you can see the magic happen. It’s old Vegas, new Vegas, and Vegas being invented, all rolled into one.
I recently rediscovered Mariana’s, the Mexican supermarket chain with four stores in Las Vegas. I say “rediscovered,” because I’ve known about Mariana’s for years, but since I have to drive a fair distance to get to one of the stores, I hadn’t made a recent visit. Now that I’ve been back, I realize I should have been making the effort all along.
Mariana’s is a wonderful place to shop, not only because of its fabulous selection of Mexican foods, but also because it has an excellent produce department. I bought oranges there the other days for a price I couldn’t believe was real until I saw it on the cash register. The oranges set me back—hold on to your sombrero—11 cents a pound.
But cheap fresh fruit is not the only thing that will bring me back to Mariana’s. There’s also the butcher shop, which is large and well-stocked. There’s a deli section with fresh salsa, guacamole and a huge array of Mexican cheese. There’s the on-site “tortilleria,” a huge, stainless steel contraption that turns out fresh tortillas—both corn and flour—by the score. There’s the “cocina,” where you can buy a variety of freshly cooked Mexican specialties. I tried the tamales, and they were great. I’ll admit I passed on the “chicharrones,” but if you are a lover of fried pork rinds, Mariana’s has the biggest ones I’ve ever seen.
In addition to fabulous things to eat, Mariana’s offers a cheery shopping atmosphere. Happy Mexican music plays on the sound system, and the staff is friendly. Although I enjoy the chance to practice my Spanish, I’m also grateful for their willingness to switch to English when my vocabulary runs out.
Grocery shopping can be a chore, but Mariana’s makes it a charming, economical, and fascinating international experience. Even if you don’t live particularly near one of the stores, Mariana’s is well worth the journey. And not only when you’re in the mood for a giant chicharrón.
Photo courtesy of Excalibur Hotel Casino Louie Anderson: Larger Than Life
I just took in Louie Anderson’s show at the Excalibur tonight, and I’m still smiling. What better way to wind up a holiday weekend than to enjoy a couple of hours with a guy who makes you laugh about things like garage sales, hammer toes, and pot pies?
As luck would have it, the theater where Anderson performs (which he shares with the “Thunder from Down Under“) is quite near my favorite attraction in the Excalibur: the Krispy Kreme donut machine. While I waited for the theater doors to open, I got to see a dozen circles of flat dough ride on a conveyer belt through a “proofing chamber,” get dumped into boiling oil, flipped over, and then doused under a waterfall of sugar glaze. I would have bought one hot off the belt if it hadn’t been time to head into the theater and claim my seat.
Krispy Kreme donut machine at the Excalibur
All I knew about Louie Anderson before tonight’s show is that he once hosted “Family Feud” and he looks like he lives on Krispy Kreme donuts. Would his banter consist of nothing but fatso jokes? I hoped not, but I couldn’t help wondering.
Well, Anderson does not exclude himself as the target of jokes, so his repertoire includes plenty of references to the size of his jacket and his love affair with butter. But what caught me by surprise, got me laughing, and left me with a warm glow is the rest of his material, which draws on his Midwestern childhood, the challenges of getting older, the difficulty he had in giving up smoking, living with cats and dogs, and a variety of other everyday topics turned into comedy by a guy who really has the knack.
Another thing I really appreciated about Anderson’s style is that he’s gentle, not only with his subject matter, but also with his audience. Like many comics, Anderson exchanged banter with audience members. This is such a standard feature of comedy shows, in fact, that I always make a point of getting seats far enough back that I’m in no danger of attracting the headliner’s attention. Comics aren’t always nice, and some are downright cruel. Anderson, though, is nice. And he’s still funny. If someone can be considerate and funny, too, that makes him a star in my book.
During his show, Anderson talked about eating donuts. The first one, he said, vanishes so fast you can’t even believe you actually ate it. The second one goes down pretty quickly, too, so you have to eat a third one. Then…[insert mental image of fat guy holding stomach and grimacing]. So — hey, you better eat another one!
Without even intending to, I managed to leave the Excalibur without eating even one Krispy Kreme donut. I did leave, however, with a new appreciation for Louie Anderson. Like a donut hot off the conveyer belt, his show was over too fast and left me hungry for more. And the great thing is, I can take in his shows as many times as I want, and the only stomach ache I’ll get will be from laughing.
Megan Edwards is the Executive Editor of Living-Las-Vegas and the author of Roads from the Ashes, the story of a six-year road trip that began with a California wildfire that burned her house down. Before the cleansing fire, Megan lived and worked in Costa Rica, Germany, Greece, California, and Texas. Now at home in Las Vegas, she writes novels and never gives up trying to grow sweet peas in a climate better suited to cactus.
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. The drive was definitely worth it, not only because I got my copy autographed, but also because Sheehan rested his signing hand for a few minutes and shared some of his experiences writing the book with the assembled crowd.
