David Mckee's Stiffs & Georges - Animals

Goliath, computer nerd; Lowden Trek: The Wrath of Reid

Tue, 20 Oct 2009 15:09:00 -0700

As some may recall, the saga of Goliath, the LVA rescue kitten, had a happy ending. Not only has he found a new, loving home but the hyperactive little fellow (whose new owners renamed him "Murderface") has developed an interest in technology:

"Robin said he’s obsessed with the computer — he’ll shimmy up her leg or the back of the chair, then either perch on her shoulder or sit in front of the monitor and bat at the cursor on screen."

Since my two cats only acknowledge computers to the extent of sitting either A) on the mouse pad or B) in front of the screen, effectively blocking it, Goliath would appear to be part of that younger, techno-savvy generation.

Sue Lowden = Klingons? The senatorial candidacy of Archon Corp. Treasurer Sue Lowden is evidently being taken quite seriously by Sen. Harry Reid. So much so that Reid's office has threatened to "vaporize" Lowden, prompting some musings on the proper response to phaser fire. If Reid wanted to do Nevadans a service, shouldn't he instead vaporize Lowden's Pioneer Gambling Hall, a grind joint that's been likened to the barren, depressing, post-2004 Vegas Club downtown?

Story of the Year

Thu, 08 Oct 2009 17:14:00 -0700

I want the movie rights to this. 'Nuff said.

We're #1! For an overdue change, Nevada leads the nation in a good category (first item). And, if you scroll waaaaaaaaaaaay to the bottom, there's an interesting bit about and airfare-and-room deal from Wynn Resorts. (Way to bury it, R-J.)

Update: The Sun has a better report in re Wynn. I shoulda known.

Adelson's rescuer?

Wed, 30 Sep 2009 14:01:00 -0700

Meet Wilbur Ross. He's an investor of all trades with an appetite for distressed assets. And he's turning his sights to the casino industry. In particular, he's drawn a bead on "companies [who] are also looking at selling assets in the Chinese gambling enclave of Macau to support struggling operations in Las Vegas."

That means either Las Vegas Sands or MGM Mirage, and it's old news that Sheldon Adelson has been peddling a couple of retail malls and the non-casino aspects of Sands Macao (above). MGM is attempting a reboot (successful so far) of MGM Grand Macau but still might come up short on completion money for CityCenter, especially if condo prices have to be reduced. And it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that one Macanese casino beats any number of hotel rooms or retail outlets.

Un-Trumped? Thwarted Trump Marina suitor Richard Fields is making another run at the property, which he's been trying to buy since Homer was a pup. Better still for him, he could get it for as little as $75 million. However, he's got dark-horse competition from a Maryland-based private equity fund that's making a play for all three of the Trump Entertainment Resorts casinos.

Notorious for mainly hanging its corporate shingle in tax-haven Green Valley, would-be casino operator Empire Resorts is not only re-headquartered in New York State, it's got new partners. Some of them bring checkered pasts to the table.

Also, Empire's hopes hinge upon the current administration reversing an especially paternalistic ruling from the George W. Bush years: namely, that casino sites must be within commuting distance of the tribal owners' -- in this case the St. Regis Mohawks -- reservations. If economic self-sufficiency is the endgame of federal/policy, Uncle Sam needs to loosen the apron strings.

Unready for some football. The unceremonious scrapping of Monday Night Football events at The Cannery is explained (second item). Magic word: clearance. Columnist John Katsilometes also notes that the second weekend of Zowie Bowie's Vintage Vegas was better than the first. Which would mean it's graduated from "bad" to "mediocre."

New England moralists are apparently OK with slot machines in Rhode Island, so long as they're covered by the fig leaf of mandatory greyhound racing. At least the slot players have a chance of actually catching the rabbit, metaphorically speaking. Animal cruelty is bad enough but when it's enshrined in state law it's even more objectionable, if such a thing is possible.

Many thanks ...

Tue, 08 Sep 2009 11:06:00 -0700

... to everyone who wrote in and overwhelmed us with messages of condolence regarding the late Shadow. Time doesn't permit writing individual replies to each and every one of you, although you have touched my heart deeply. So thanks go out to Steve Kallis (and I would imagine the Humane Society thanks you, too), Jeff in OKC, Jason the poolman, Richard Abowitz, arm53, detroit1051, Frank P., William Heckel (check out his Web site), Jinx (ditto), Aaron, Jim and smudger.

The apartment still seems very empty without Shadow's graceful -- if sometimes surprisingly obstreperous -- presence. Her brother, Mr. Bit, needs a lot of comforting. Fasolt is pretty much the same as ever.

Eventually the painful memories will recede and the good ones will take their place. Right now it's difficult to visualize Shadow other than as I last saw her, lying on the veterinarian's table, emaciated and misshapen, with her stomach bloated by the tumor. Her eyes seemed to say, "Let me go," but you're never adequately prepared for when they bring her back with a catheter sticking from her forearm, let alone for when you have to tell the vet it's OK to administer the lethal injection.

However, Shadow was in the extremely ethical hands of Mountain Vista Animal Hospital, one of Las Vegas' greatest assets. They could have strung me along with false hope and thereby milked my bank account dry, but they were most candid about the gravity of the situation. Thanks to them, Shadow's suffering was relatively brief. I hope I'm so fortunate when it's my turn to shuffle off this mortal coil.

In the meantime, it's a little difficult to give a rat's patootie about what's happening in the casino industry. I'm sure you understand why.

Besides ... the fallout from last week's blog meltdown continues to descend. Our linking capabilities are temporarily kaput and the photo library has vanished. Hence the somewhat gray and bare-bones look of S&G these days. Darn, and I have this great screencap of Edward Quartermain looking for all the world like Sheldon Adelson ...

Shadow, 1993-2009

Sat, 05 Sep 2009 15:53:00 -0700

Jennifer & I just said goodbye to a faithful friend of 13 years, Shadow. A slim, sleek Norwegian Forest Cat, she came into my life on a fine autumn afternoon in 1996. I was still recovering from a broken engagement and, while taking a walk, came across a yard sale being conducted by a woman who was moving to Brazil. There, up for sale, was a beautiful blue-gray cat who was the spitting image of Buddy, my ex-fiancée's adorable Norwegian (who I missed far more than I did my ex).

As it turned out, Shadow also had an obstreperous brother, Bit (later promoted to Mr. Bit). Although I was only looking for one cat, I didn't have the heart to break brother and sister up, and took both. Shadow was well named, as she was invisible in darkness -- causing her to get tripped over and stepped on far more times than I'd care to admit -- and had the alarming habit of diving at your feet, an accident waiting to happen.

Unlike her brother, Shadow took to her new living situation at once. The only problem was the resultant friction between senior cat Fasolt and Shadow, which would never be resolved. They'd spend the next 13 years spatting. A couple of years after Shadow and Mr. Bit joined our family, job prospects in Minneapolis had dried up but multiple opportunities presented themselves in Las Vegas. So, in January 1999, my brother Vincent drove Shadow and Mr. Bit cross-country, while I flew Fasolt to Las Vegas. The climate seemed to agree with them -- to say nothing of the profusion of juicy birds who dwelt nearby. Mr. Bit did, however, take several days to emerge from his hiding place in the kitchen cupboard.

Fast-forward a decade, and Shadow was showing signs of decrepitude and weight loss. (She was always lighter than air, but still ... ) Her movements became stiffer, her lethargy more pronounced and she became reclusive. At first, I chalked this up to advancing age but eventually, she gave up on using the litter box, too. A number of medical tests failed to detect anything wrong.

As late as last Tuesday, Shadow was running about the apartment, having an episode of the 'nighttime crazies.' But, by Friday her belly was alarmingly bloated while the rest of her was emaciated and rail-thin. A visit to the vet brought the dreaded news: Shadow had a buildup of fluid in her abdomen and, beneath that, a tumor. Even a best-case scenario involving surgery and chemotherapy would only buy her a few more months on Earth. She was whimpering from the pain and the spark of her personality was all but extinguished.

We said our farewells as the last moments of Shadow's life ebbed away. Many tears were shed. Her body is gone, soon to be cremated, but her spirit will live in our hearts and minds and souls forever, for she is part of us in a way that death cannot sunder. Still ... I will miss feeling her sleeping across my feet or knees when I'm sick in bed ... chasing the dot of the laser pointer ... sliding across the linoleum in pursuit of a runaway twist-tie ... yelling at me when her dinner wasn't promptly served ... sulking if her water did not have ice cubes in it, per her preference ... dipping her right paw in aforesaid water and licking it off (making the water dirty for everyone else, but little did she care) ... burrowing her forehead into my wrist as though to say "Thank you," when dinner was served ... reclining regally in the nearest patch of sun ... and, perhaps most of all, "helping" her Daddy work by curling up in his lap at the computer desk.

At least once, I came back to find her sitting on the keyboard, as though to say, "No more Internet, Dad!"

Thanks for reminding me of what is important, Shadow. We will never stop missing you.

Goliath finds a home

Mon, 24 Aug 2009 16:38:00 -0700

Goliath sneaks up on erstwhile housemate Piglet.

After a week of foster parenting, we were able to find a good, loving home for Goliath (although it near to broke our hearts to see him go). His new family is set to spoil him rotten and looked like kids on Christmas morning when they finally saw his bandit-masked face. They'd already bought a "kitty condo" and toys for him, and word is that he's become comfortably ensconced in his new abode in nothing flat. The only adjustment problem may be that Goliath's idea of "playtime" is 2 a.m., something with which mere humans may have difficulty coping.

(According to our blogging software, this is officially the 1,500th S&G posting. Who'da thunk it'd ever go the distance?)

Abraca - OMFG!

Fri, 21 Aug 2009 11:53:00 -0700

Scarlett, Princess of Magic has settled into her new revue, Scarlett and her Seductive Ladies of Magic, which finally gives me a reason to encourage people to visit the Riviera. The video below is taken from Scartlett's family-friendly V Theater show (long since closed) but many of the same tricks are reprised, on a bigger scale -- and with far less clothing. Her instance, the one-piece has devolved into a 'barely there' red bikini. Make sure your pacemaker is in working order.

There's some incredibly perfunctory toplessness from two assistants/dancers but it's Scarlett who brings the sexy -- and how! If this doesn't work out, she'd make a formidable contestant on Dancing with the Stars, too. I'm no great judge of magic but Scarlett is definitely the most hot-cha Strip headliner not named Marie Osmond. In a classy gesture, Scarlett's former presenter, David Saxe, was at the Riv last night amidst the well-wishers.

As for the Riv itself, corner-cutting is omnipresent, sometimes amusingly so. The post-Scarlett cocktail party featured but a lone plate of bruschetta and some cheese cubes. When they were (quickly) gone, they were gone. The Riv is just hanging on by its fingernails, even if it's not fallen off the cliff yet.

Amazed. It looks like an open-ended run is assured for this afternoon comedy show, highlighted by guitar-playing impressionist Mark Rayburn. (After you've seen him, you'll never take Gordie Brown seriously again.) Tickets are just a wee bit steep for a 2:30 p.m. show, but this is a winner, much better than certain comedy shows which I've seen and/or reviewed recently. I can't recommend it too highly. My more extended impressions of Amazed and Scartlett are due for publication in the near future.

Buffet bulletin. No word yet on whether MGM Grand, Luxor, Excalibur or Stratosphere are reining in their all-day buffet specials. Ben Bernanke's confidence notwithstanding, optimism in Vegas should be tempered with caution ... and price increases probably should not even be contemplated until those downward-trending visitation numbers start heading up for a change. One needn't be an economist to see that Nevada's recovery, when it happens, will be slow in coming.

The juice behind the juice. Could the speedy restoration of Privé's liquor license, following some cosmetic changes in management, have had another motive? Like maybe a precipitate dropoff in Planet Hollywood foot traffic? Xania Woodman reports, you decide.

Goliath gets a clean bill of health.

Goliath adopted? There's a glimmer of hope that little Goliath may soon find a new home. Why then am I so melancholy?

Goliath, by request

Wed, 19 Aug 2009 12:35:00 -0700

For those of you have been asking about Goliath, here he is during last Friday's visit to Mountain Vista Animal Hospital:

At the time, he was understandably shy and a little bit frightened ...

... but on Monday he abruptly emerged from his shell and became quite gregarious. He's settling into foster-home life. Rascal, the resident male, has taken a paternal interest in Goliath and they've playing Hide & Seek, as well as curling up together. I do miss having Goliath around the office, though.

Goliath awaits

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 13:32:00 -0700

A reader asks: "Doth thou humble Fasolt not feel intruded upon? Or does he reside at home whilst you work?"

The latter. Fasolt's sheer preponderance, not to mention his total aversion to the litter box, militate against taking him anywhere. However, he loves people and used to "assist" me at Casino Executive Magazine on select occasions. He's also got the good people at Mountain Vista Animal Hospital (one of Vegas' greatest treasures) eating out of his paw. He gets a hero's welcome every time he boards there.

Goliath, meanwhile, has found a foster home, which means he will not be a pleasant distraction at work. The "Colony Capital strikes (out) again" post was written with tiny Goliath asleep on my right knee. In two weeks, he should be ready for adoption, although we'd like to make sure he's going to a good home. At a mere 7-8 weeks, he's far better disciplined than some of my adult cats.

Blogging and cats ...

Mon, 17 Aug 2009 15:30:00 -0700

... do not mix well, as you can see:

Goliath, the one-pound, two-ounce kitten we rescued from the I-15 "on" ramp by Caesars Palace, is climbing all over Yr. Humble Blogger -- as shown -- and, more to the point, all over my computer keyboard.

Goliath has not, however, so much as paused on Joel Stein's controversial Time cover story ("Welcome to Fabulous Less Vegas"), thereby proving Rita Mae Brown's adage that a page upon which a cat will not deign to sit is probably not worth reading anyway. Goliath's reign as LVA kitten-is-residence will be brief; a foster home has been arranged, pending his eventual adoption.

Tamares' animal cruelty

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 14:45:00 -0700

Man about town Steve Friess has all the gory details, plus video:

Now that new owners have actually made the ex-Tamares Group dump the Gold Spike actually rather spiffy and friendly, the Vegas Club now takes the wilted palm of being Downtown's most depressing casino. It's a no-frills, charmless grind joint, utterly devoid of atmosphere. Casino play, even on a Friday night, was desultory, as though the customers were so despairing they didn't care where they played.

The much-hyped "fetish" pit is a joke. It's tamer than any Britney Spears video and the costumes look like they were bought at a Halloween store. It's cheap -- and not in a good way. The wife-beater-wearing female dealers at the Gold Spike are much, much sexier ... some of the hottest in Vegas, if that's your thing.

The sports book, once the pride of the Vegas Club, has been turned into a pretty spacious showroom, but that's about the nicest thing you can say for the place. Downtown needs entrepreneurs but Tamares is content to be a slumlord.

Kitty rescue at Caesars; Stingy Station

Fri, 14 Aug 2009 13:43:00 -0700

As we were driving to LVA HQ this morning, we spotted a disoriented-looking little cat running through the Flamingo Rd./I-15 interchange, across from Caesars Palace. We were in a quandary about what to do until it turned and started ambling down the I-15 "on" ramp, heading straight for certain death. I ran down the ramp after it (the kitty's a fast little bugger), scooped it up in one hand and ...

Well, what to do? I am now the custodian of a small, tuxedo-patterned kitten who may be carrying God knows what infections. It's too docile to be a feral cat but it's definitely going to need a new residence. So if anybody reading this can lend a helping hand to a homeless kitty, contact me at dmckee@huntingtonpress.com. I could just plop the wee bairn out in the LVA parking lot, along with our resident strays, but they're all massive and it would be a very Darwinian situation, I fear.

Cheesparing at Station: The formidable Jean Scott has news of some recent and untoward developments at Station Casinos, as the bankrupt company resorts to new "economy" measures. While the Fertitta clan sinks approximately $90 million into Orange County mansions, they're recouping the cost of their poor business decisions out of their customers' hides.

Random observations: Last night, we celebrated my Better Half's birthday, partly at Cadillac Ranch, which seems to have an identity crisis. Its menu is slightly countrified (in a C&W sense), its walls are covered with photos of Baby Boomer rock stars (think Steven Tyler) and the video feed is heavy on hip-hop. Go figure. The root beer float is very good, though. At 10:30, as though by prearranged signal, an incoming tide of douchebags flooded the joint and we split ...

... the classy southern façade of Mandarin Oriental has now been marred by a building wrap, high up on one corner. It's small by building-wrap standards, managing to both spoil the view and look like a timid half-measure ...

... speaking of building wraps, Criss F. Angel has long since been evicted from the eastern façade of Luxor. A new wrap was placed on the northeast corner of Luxor's ancillary hotel, but it's also smallish and -- due to way the hotel's buttresses jut forward -- hard to see if you're driving into Vegas from the south. Then again, if I were MGM Mirage, I'd probably want to downplay with association with the widely ridiculed Mr. Angel, too.

"You can't bring that sword in here!"

Thu, 06 Aug 2009 16:49:00 -0700

Some do-it-yourself ninja got busted sneaking a samurai sword into Casino Rama, in Ontario. As far as exotic weaponry on the casino floor, S&G thinks this takes the prize.

The not-so-great ATM caper. Both Wired.com and the Christian Science Monitor have been carrying stories on sinister ATM-alikes positioned to capture conventioneers' cash at the Riviera. Since the alleged scam occurred during DefCon, a conclave of hackers, you wouldn't be much of a criminal mastermind if you thought such a scheme would go undetected.

Expanding on the story, the CSM reports that the not-ATM was stationed across from the Riv's security office -- a brazen move, if true, and that a similar scheme was unmasked at The Rio. However ...

Riviera brass say it was a mixture of hoax and misunderstanding. It was their ATM, they say, and they were the ones who took it offline in anticipation of DefCon. Because, gosh, you wouldn't want operational ATMs in your convention area when it's aswarm with conventioneers, would you? People might actually, like, use it.

Finally, some good news: The video speaks for itself ...

To Charo or not?

Fri, 31 Jul 2009 15:55:00 -0700

Are you wondering whether it's worth forking over 50 or more of your increasingly hard-earned dollars to see Charo in Concert: A Musical Sensation at the Riviera? This video (or "bideo" in Charo's Castillian lisp) is sufficiently representative that it tells you more than could any review:

The show's second half is given over to a five-song set with Charo on guitar. Does she have mad guitar skillz? Is she a Guitar Heroine? The twin "bideo" screens in the showroom maintain a constant closeup of her fingerwork, allowing you to decide for yourself. One might hope that cute little Manolo puts in an appearance, but alas ... no bull.

Fasolt

Thu, 30 Jul 2009 16:13:00 -0700

As I write this, LVA mascot Mojo is sunning herself on my office balcony (and doing #2, I fear), turning my mind to the animal kingdom. S&G readers are sometimes so kind as to ask after the health of my gargantuan Maine Coon cat, Fasolt, who briefly went missing last winter while the Significant Other and I were engrossed in an episode of The L Word.

I'm happy to report that Fasolt is in fine fettle, although sufficiently arthritic as to require "pet steps" (pictured) to get onto the bed. He continues to tolerate his stepbrother, Mr. Bit, and to spat with his stepsister, Shadow. He's also growing more neurotic with age, to the point where avoids the litter box like the plague. Some stopgap solutions have been devised, through trial and error, but the occasional father-son chat about "inappropriate elimination" still has to be conducted.

When it's dinner time, he sits (sometimes) patiently at my right knee, awaiting the table scraps that are his due as Senior Cat in Residence. He also likes to "watch" TV with me and, if I'm working at home, he's usually just to right of my desk chair or -- more problematically -- in my lap. And if he feels there's been too much Internet surfing, Fasolt sits on the mouse pad to put a stop to it.

What's this to do with gambling ... well, nothing. But in my not-impartial opinion, Fasolt's native smarts exceed those of certain gaming-sector CEOs.

Moulin Rouge: Whoops!

Tue, 07 Jul 2009 14:27:00 -0700

The Moulin Rouge development that will never be.

Oh dear, oh dear. Seems like the City of Las Vegas unwittingly obstructed its own arson probe into the demise of the Moulin Rouge when it allowed the property to be immediately demolished. Sloppily, the actual tearing-down was farmed out to the property's former owners, who happened to have a demolition contractor on site during the blaze.

The fire's cause remains speculative and no finding of arson has been made -- and now perhaps never will. But the city's decision not only looks overhasty, it was (at the very least) cavalier to entrust it to dispossessed Moulin Rouge Development Corp. and not new owner Olympic Coast Development. The latter's prexy, John Hoss, told the Las Vegas Sun he found the chain of events "a little odd" and "a weird coincidence." Since Hoss is only trying to corral a $100,000 insurance claim, the city could get stuck with an asbestos-removal tab as high as $1.1 million.

Can they screw this up any further? Is the Pope Catholic?

F'bleau-minus. The bankrupt resort's developer, Jeffrey Soffer, proposes some unspecified corner-cutting to get the project back on budget. ("On budget" being a very relative term where Fontainebleau is concerned.) Combine this with the allegedly secret "Enhanced" costs for F'bleau's highly touted amenities and the moral of the story is that what you see on the Web site or in the design renderings has a tenuous relationship to what you'll actually get.

At least Soffer is offering to chip in some equity, unlike former investor James Packer, who scuttled away from F'bleau the moment the chips were down.

Gator on the loose. One of Las Vegas' larger parks got a lot more interesting yesterday when a 42-inch-long alligator turned up. Instead of entrusting the spunky fellow to a local zoo or perhaps one of our local casino-based wildlife habitats, the Wildlife Dept. killed him. Bastards. I hope they never get their mitts on our beloved Mojo ...

Mojo, the monarch of Huntington Press.

Speaking of James Packer ... griefs are arriving in battalions (thanks, Mr. Shakespeare) for City of Dreams. In terms of mass-market business, Venetian Macao is eating City of Dreams' lunch. "Despite 41,000 people walking through City of Dreams every day since it opened in the first week of June, most of the visitors were just admiring the decor instead of sitting down at its tables for a game of baccarat," reports The Age.

Not only is one analyst projecting a 15% earnings shortfall for Melco Crown Entertainment, another has tripled his loss-per-share projection. J.P. Morgan is also revising its 2010 cash-flow projections on the $2.1 billion megaresort to 13% ROI, down from 17%. (That's still a better return on investment than you can get on the Las Vegas Strip.)

Did Steve Wynn take Packer to the cleaners when sold him 37% of a casino concession for $1 billion? Wynn had a chance to size up Packer and deemed him not yet ready for the big leagues. Score another one for El Steve.

Harrah's goes to the dogs

Tue, 30 Jun 2009 13:49:00 -0700

A future Harrah's employee?

Harrah's Entertainment is poking its snout into the prospect of obtaining a management contract at bankrupt Twin River Casino, a dog track with VLTs in Rhode Island. The paraphrase of the explanation given by Harrah's senior veep Jan Jones seems fairly counterintuitive: "the state might be motivated now to give the company a shot because Massachusetts was on the brink of legalizing casinos."

OK, so Massachusetts is likely to legalize casinos, which makes this the perfect time to expand into ... Rhode Island? With its 60% tax rate? The part of Jones' explanation that makes more sense is that Harrah's would be able to tap into its New England base of Total Rewards players much closer to home (the nearest Harrah's outposts being Chester, Pa., and Atlantic City).

This could all be moot if the R.I. Lege scuppers a gubernatorial compromise that would can the dog racing and keep the casino open 'round the clock. Greyhound racing is a sport that really needs to be put out to pasture. Besides, it's only in place at Twin River because of a Byzantine legislative arrangement that Steve Friess rightly calls "a very weird deal," much of which involves propping up the dog-race union. (I never knew there was such a thing, but there is.)

So it's a win-win, right? A corporate savior for Twin Rivers and no more suffering doggies, yes? Well ... no, not if you're a nearby homeowner like Hal Perry, whose semi-rural lifestyle has been impinged upon by creeping incrementalism at Twin Rivers. Rather than lower the usurious tax rate, the state (which is seriously hooked on VLT revenue) simply keeps moving the goal posts -- longer hours, more machines.

Here comes Harrah's and, if you're a Twin Rivers neighbor worried about your property value, the noises are ominous indeed. As Jones tells Friess, "you couldn’t build a hotel right now ... So all of this is a process. But it's the beginning of the process and the point is that it's an excellent opportunity."

"Right now ... process ... beginning." In other words, Mr. Perry: Sell! Sell now! Get out before Harrah's drives you out.

Harrah's wins one. Sort of by default, but a win is a win. Dissident bondholders S. Blake Murchison and Willis Shaw had a shyster for an attorney. Case dismissed. Clearly, their due diligence with regard to lawyers was even worse than that they displayed as investors.

Gunshot? What gunshot? Although the Las Vegas Hilton was able to keep an on-property suicide out of the local papers, the news eventually surfaced via the Louisville Courier-Journal.

Case Bets: Our LVA mascot; Menopause; Mob museum

Thu, 18 Jun 2009 15:19:00 -0700

Woe betide anyone who dares to plunder LVA HQ, for we are under the protection of a fierce -- but beautiful -- watch iguana. Mojo, as she is named, is at this moment sunning herself on the balcony of my office. The photo above shows Mojo in her customary habitat: a massive iguana "condo" that takes up nearly half of one of the downstairs offices.

As cushy as her lifestyle may be, Mojo occasionally gets cabin fever and either rampages around the research department or attacks her "evil twin" in the mirror. Watch your head if you're coming in the front door; Mojo recently leapt off the second-floor balcony in pursuit of (we presume) some fat, juicy pigeons and suffered no injury whatsoever. She's one tough little hombre.

Menopause The Musical: I don't mean it pejoratively when I say that if you like this sort of thing, then this is the sort of thing you'll like. Either you get the joke(s) or you don't. It's that simple.

Oscar Goodman's pet project, the so-called "Mob museum" just got whacked, albeit not fatally ... we think.

Case Bets: Sands bankruptcy?; California spite, Ted Binion still dead, etc.

Fri, 24 Oct 2008 17:52:00 -0700

The 'B' word. Yup, somebody finally said it. Stifel Nicolaus & Co. analyst Steven Wieczynski blames The Big Sands Sell-off on fears that "Las Vegas Sands is in jeopardy of running out of cash and going bankrupt." Sands stock closed the week at a dismal $6.32 a share, 96% off its 52-week high.

The Adelson family, meanwhile, plans to turn its pockets inside out, looking for money.

Gary Jacobs is a good guy. The MGM Mirage executive veep is among the donors supporting California's Proposition 2, which would ban certain forms of cruelty to farm animals. Which earns him this animal lover's vote of thanks.

Other Nevadans are really motivated to donate to Proposition 8. Steve Friess has all the details. Having shot Nevada's economy in the leg with their opposition to gay marriage, some of the same folks may inflict similar economic damage on California. Which is their First Amendment prerogative and amen to that, but I'm not of the misery-loves-company persuasion.

Nevada's casino resorts have been cut out of on a lucrative market segment, although Harrah's Rincon has been among the California ones benefiting from Silver State prudishness, which Harrah's Entertainment has cannily leveraged into some Vegas-honeymoon promotions. If tribal sovereignty doesn't shield Harrah's Rincon and other gay-friendly casinos from Prop 8, I guess that Prop 8 donors from economically blighted Nevada can congratulate themselves on having lopped off their nose to spite their face yet again. Anyway, kudos to Harrah's execs Michael Weaver and Gwen Migita for contributing to the anti-Prop 8 campaign.

Marker for murder? Back where I come from, we call this "motive."

Time Tunnel. How drastically has the Vegas Strip changed since 1992? Follow this awesome photo stream and find out.

This just in: Made-for-cable movie about Lonnie "Ted" Binion stinks. Hey, it's a Lifetime Channel production. What else would you expect?

And this is bad news?

Wed, 01 Oct 2008 13:42:00 -0700

"Greyhound Racing Facing Extinction in Mass." -- headline in The Ledger (Lakeland, Fla.) over a story chronicling the decline of dog tracks. Says one opponent, "Our economy should not be built on cruelty to dogs."

Mont-blew it; more E-Can; Trump struggling

Fri, 05 Sep 2008 13:45:00 -0700

"Montbleu screwed our pooch." That's the conclusion of Chuck Monster, who chronicles a bait-and-switch at the former Caesars Tahoe. It's now part of the prospering casino fleet that is Columbia Sussex and its "pet friendly" package turned out to be more like "pet indifferent." After withholding it for a full year, in hopes of a partial refund that materialized, Chuck has finally released a Montbleu-by-blow account.

New casino overseer Scott Butera may be promising a new, improved Tropicana Entertainment but, from what Chuck says, it's still ColSux as usual for the time being. At least the incident gave him excuse to post numerous photos of Montbleu being inspected by a totally adorable pug named Maxine, who is certain to steal your heart.

E-Can makes the rounds. The reviews of Eastside Cannery keep rolling in. There's a Compton/Dancer critique of its gambling value (good). Steve Friess went a while back and was mildly amused/bemused. For his part, Chuck Monster deconstructs its decor. Our new issue of Las Vegas Advisor contains a lengthy appraisal by Anthony Curtis.

Trumped. Perhaps the single most interesting fact in Chuck's review is buried way down at the end and it's this: On an upcoming weekend, when E-Can is commanding $129/night ($1 less than Circus Circus), rooms at Trump International are going for $163/night -- $38/night less than Excalibur. Yes, Excalibur! (And $346/night less than Wynn Las Vegas.) Can you say "bomb"? I thought you could.

Case Bets: South Point, Gustav, Monte Carlo, Gold Spike, Excalibur, etc.

Tue, 02 Sep 2008 14:15:00 -0700

Why does a holiday weekend suck? Because it means that instead of having to dig through three days' worth of the Las Vegas Review-Journal on Monday (a depressing task under the best of circumstances), a Tuesday start means at least four days of windfall from what Hugh Jackson calls "the dead tree of record" through which one must cut brush. Solution? Chop it up into Insta-Blog fodder! Like ...

Horse dies at South Point, in front of 500 undoubtedly traumatized spectators. Leaving aside the equine tragedy, if South Point can only rustle up 500 attendees for a Friday-night event, its equestrian center may be even more of a gold-plated albatross than was originally thought.

Gulf Coast casinos ordered to close. Good grief, has common sense taken a leave of absence down there? Why was Mississippi required to force the issue?

Monte Carlo not up to code, says Clark County. Whereupon neither the county nor MGM Mirage takes responsibility for remediating the situation, each putting the onus on the other.

Wall Street comes around. The Street has a manic-depressive attitude toward gaming stocks and is coming out of its latest episode of depression. Even so, some of these stocks look ridiculously undervalued, especially Las Vegas Sands, which The Street used to think was worth three times as much.

Speaking of Sands, there's confidence and then there's foolhardiness. Then again, given the company's genius at protracting litigation to superhuman lengths, its sanguine attitude may be born of experience.

Somnolent editors awake from nap, find that Nevada's economic model isn't working, call for more of the same, go back to sleep. (BTW, here's one of those "Nevada Democrats" the editorial reflexively derides.)

First Nevada Palace fell and now the Gold Spike is half-renovated. We're going to have to come up with a new shorthand for "bottom-of-the-barrel casino" now that we won't have the Spike to kick around anymore. Stephen Siegel has done more with the place than his predecessors, absentee owners Tamares Group, accomplished in three years (unless you count the offerings they took out, like table games).

Still, Siegel's being a wee bit charitable when he says "most people underestimate the Gold Spike." Stephen, it is impossible to underestimate the Spike, the only Nevada casino for which I would have used "vile" as a description, back in its Tamares days.

Comment threads in newspapers can be a very mixed blessing, but much of the back-and-forth that follows this story about electronic poker at Excalibur is well worth reading, as it provides a great deal of hard information and a player's-eye perspective on the experiment.

America's biggest celebrity

Thu, 31 Jul 2008 12:57:00 -0700

Sen. John McCain's presidential campaign rolled out a unique tactic this week: complaining that McCain's opponent is more popular and famous. I suppose you could call it "out of the box" thinking, though it seems a tad whiny to me.

(McCain's ad about Hispanic-Americans shows a far nobler side and is notable for its sobriety and lack of flash. It also takes some cojones to run it, given the virulent anti-Latino sentiment that infects much of the GOP "base" (in multiple senses of the word), especially here in Nevada.

But the McCain people have it all wrong. America's heftiest celebrity is 44-pound stray cat Princess Chunk, the heaviest domestic pussycat in the world. This exemplar of avoirdupois is already scheduled to appear on Good Morning America and Live with Regis and Kelly. Surely the Today show is chomping at the bit to get in on the action. News of the giant feline has made headlines at least as far as Australia -- although I seriously doubt that an American cat-caregiver would say, "how do you lose a 20-kilo cat?" (Journalistic license, mayhap?)

Even Princess (né Captain) Chunk's gender is a source of confusion, so we may to settle on plain old "Chunk." Or "Powder," its given name. And, in a "ripped from the headlines" touch worth of Law & Order, it turns out that Chunk/Powder is just the latest victim of the nationwide foreclosure crisis. Powder's elderly owner found herself out on the street and turned the poor -- if portly -- kitty loose, which is why it was found lumbering about Voorhees, N.J., which sure is getting its 15 minutes of fame.

Anyway, it looks like the behemoth feline will soon find a new home -- and if he/she/it doesn't, maybe Mandalay Bay can give it a comfy domicile. Chunk/Powder might even outdraw that other big bruiser, the Komodo Dragon.

Honey, I shrank Lake Las Vegas

Wed, 30 Jul 2008 12:57:00 -0700

Saying that a potentially ruptured pipe could drain Lake Las Vegas and turn it into one big-ass mud puddle in the desert conjures up quite an image. It's also effective rhetoric if you're trying to stampede the bankruptcy court into approving a $127 million loan, no questions asked (or at least answered). If asked to make a bet, I'd place my wager with the Nevada state engineer who puts the chances of a big sucking sound at Lake Las Vegas "way out there." (The big sucking sound that is the resort community's financial future is another matter entirely.)

And, if it does happen, the first thought that sprang to my mind was the same one that Steve Friess had, namely that the A-list likes of Celine Dion and Natalie Gulbis won't be any too thrilled "to live around a big, smelly pit full of stuff that reckless boaters have been pitching overboard for years." Heck, I tried wading out there recently and the lake water is pretty dodgy as it is.

Lake LV is starting to look like the second coming of The Resort at Summerlin, which some may remember as Swiss Casinos' vastly overbudgeted venture into the suburban Vegas market. (Its casino is now managed by the Cannery Resorts folks.) Problems like excessive cost and executive hubris aside, R@S failed in large part because it tried to create a market out of thin air: Palm Springs-style golf vacations which would involve coming to Vegas but staying well away from the Strip. As a business model, it didn't live up the hype.

I've held off saying this for a long time, but Lake LV displays some of the same symptoms. It's too close to the Strip to qualify as a getaway and yet far enough away to make it a real hassle if you want to stay out there and yet still experience Sin City at its finest. (The jury's still out on whether similar factors will dampen Red Rock Resort's high-end aspirations, making it "just" an extremely swanky locals casino with fantastic meeting facilities.)

Not to put too fine a point on it: It's a pain in the ass to get to Lake LV and some of that appears to be literally by design. Its landscaping and narrow, winding approach connote exclusivity, as does much else there (like the flighty retail offerings). You half-expect snipers hidden in the rocks to pick off vehicles deemed insufficiently chi-chi. So the local market is unlikely to embrace or even have much use for it. After all, you'd have to be a mighty hardcore player to drive all the way out to Casino MonteLago (above) when it entails bypassing numerous gambling options, including Fiesta Henderson, to get there.

Palms Springs is Palm Springs in large part because it is isolated. You couldn't achieve something like that, say, just 17 miles outside of San Diego. Same with Lake LV, R@S, etc. Being simultaneously of and yet slightly away from Las Vegas isn't working out so far. Lake LV wants to be a tourist magnet and a hideout for the super-rich, but having it both ways is proving a tightrope act without a net -- or maybe just without a lake, if that pipe doesn't hold.

Penitentiary Station. Did you know that inmates at the Nevada State Prison (the former site of the Warm Springs Hotel) used to be allowed to gamble? It's true (see sidebar). Then some spoilsport went and outlawed it in 1967.

Now, it seems to me that with the state facing a revenue crunch and a governor who'd rather close prisons than raise taxes, that our lawmakers have been overlooking an opportunity: Bring back the craps games in the Big House! Heck, throw in some slots while you're at it. Make the holds real tight, too, because it's not like your customer base can take its business elsewhere.

Besides, it might shut up all those soreheads who write to the newspaper to complain that prisoners get paid to make license plates, etc., instead of being used as slave labor or as fodder for medical experiments. Convicts' wages would just be going right back into the state treasury -- after United Coin or whomever takes its cut, of course. Maybe it'd be the business opportunity that snaps slot-route operator Herbst Gaming out of its doldrums. Why, it's a state/private sector win-win!

And I thought my cats were heavy. You could put my threesome on the scale together and they'd still be outweighed by 44-lb. Princess Chunk, found "waddling around" Voorhees, N.J., last weekend. Sounds like some feral cats -- well, one anyway -- have been eating even better than ones who have a predictable source of food and three squares a day.

Court smacks down ColSux; Pinball and Dragons

Tue, 01 Jul 2008 14:10:00 -0700

This just in: The legal appeal by Columbia Sussex of its New Jersey license denial has been ashcanned by an appellate court. In a 44-page ruling, the court sided with the New Jersey Casino Control Commission, writing -- in part -- that "The findings made by the commission that Tropicana lacked the financial integrity and responsibility, as well as business ability, are amply supported by the record." (The full ruling can be found here.)

We may not have heard the last from the famously "contumacious" William J. Yung III, but it appears that all systems are go for a sale of the Trop ... if only the NJCCC and its bungling conservator, Justice Gary Stein, could ever get their act together.

Las Vegas' Pinball Hall of Fame gets some well-deserved love from the Los Angeles Times. As luck would have it, the Significant Other and I blew a roll of quarters (and then some) at the Pinball HoF last Sunday and -- when it comes to value for your dollar -- this is probably the best deal in Vegas. Not to mention that it's about as much sheer fun as you can find anywhere in town. Even though my hand-eye coordination is too f-ed up to make me a viable pinball player, there's no denying the endorphin rush. (The only game I performed well on was -- wouldn't you know it? -- Stargate.)

One bad boy. That'd be the new star of Mandalay Bay's Shark Reef, its seven-foot-long Komodo Dragon. This massive predator is such a badass that he'll bite you, then stalk you for as much as a week, waiting for his deadly saliva to do its work. Mandalay Bay's resident dragon looks like a cool customer and he fixed me with a hypnotic stare that was uncomfortably reminiscent of James Earl Jones as the shape-shifting Thulsa Doom in Conan the Barbarian.

As much as we admired the great predators (especially the water monitor and the crocodile) our greatest awe was reserved for the gentle majesty of the sea turtles, mystic creatures of great serenity. Amidst all its "wow" factor, Shark Reef does a terrific job of inculcating visitors with eco-friendliness and warnings as to the dangers of overexploiting the oceans. (Although there's an irony in the exhibit that decries the harvesting of sharks for the fins, even as some high roller is probably sitting down to a bowl of shark's fin soup somewhere else in the casino.)

Hats off to the former Mandalay Resort Group for making a home for this noble endeavor, and to MGM Mirage for keeping it going. There aren't many things in Las Vegas that ennoble the spirit but Shark Reef is one of them.

Animal Cruelty

Tue, 06 May 2008 17:17:00 -0700

1) Following Saturday's tragedy at the Kentucky Derby, maybe it's time to put "the sport of kings" out to pasture. After all, market forces have already appeared to have "selected out" horse racing for extinction. Just think of all the states where horse racing is subsidized by slot machines and VLTs (and contemplate the irony of the snobbiest of sports being underwritten by the most snob-averse form of commercial gambling). And if some states (think Maryland, Kentucky) don't have slots propping up the horsey set, it's not for lack of trying.

At the very least, horse breeders, trainers, tracks and racing associations should adopt en bloc the recommendations of ESPN horse racing analyst Randy Moss (no, not that Randy Moss). They include: A) ban the whip; B) change the track surfaces, as has been done overseas; and C) stop medicating horses on race day to enable them to run. The last is just plain common sense, but it seems it takes the sad fate of a Barbaro or an Eight Belles to get it through our communal noggin.

2) If pictures like these make you sick ...

... then this blog has, at long last, done some good. These poor, tortured animals are part of some sick, twisted person's "art installation." It's really interactive "snuff" porn. If you want to put a stop to this, sign here.

Now if only we could wrap our minds around the unimaginable enormity of 22,000 lives (at minimum) lost in the Burmese catastrophe ...

(I see that Laura Bush is getting a raw deal for making a few common sense remarks about the crisis. The moral? Whatever you do in politics, for Pete's sake, never speak your mind.)