Casinoguide » Off Strip

Gnarly and the Chocolate Factory

Rex — Fri, 07 May 2010 19:17:54 +0000

For the first time ever, yesterday, I embarked on a trip to the famous Ethel M Chocolate Factory.

For those of you who are unaware, Ethel M is kind of a big deal for those who like sweets. It is a gourmet candy factory which just happens to be located about 10 miles from the Las Vegas Strip, and is a mecca for chocolate lovers from all over the country.

Given its popularity, it’s somewhat odd that I had never been to Ethel’s before. The reason for this is that I am not a huge chocolate lover. I like it just fine, but I’m generally not willing to brave travelling to Henderson to consume it. Having kids, however, means that what you want is often completely and utterly irrelevant. You are going to do and pay for whatever you are told to do and pay for. It’s a lot like being an Apple user.

This being the case, after being advised that we would be spending the afternoon at the candy factory, I aimed my Porsche Carrera GT with dual-seatbelts toward Henderson and off we went.

Wayne Newton's Casa de Shenandoah

On the way there, I passed Wayne Newton’s ranch which is called “Casa de Shenandoah”. I had heard of this place, but this was the first time I had ever seen it with my own two eyes. I just don’t hit the southeast part of town very often. I’m sure that this ranch was a little slice of rural paradise when Wayne first built it, but now that it is surrounded by strip malls, it seems a little ironic and out of place.

When we got to Ethel’s, I really wasn’t sure what to expect. When I was a child, I went to the Hershey’s chocolate factory in Pennsylvania, but I remember little of it. Ethel M offers what they call a “self-guided tour”, and that was our first stop.

Ethel M Chocolate Factory

Ethel M Chocolate Factory Tour Entrance

Ethel M Chocolate Factory Tour

Ethel M Chocolate Factory

Within a few minutes, I came to realize that the self-guided tour at Ethel’s is not a “tour” per-se. Rather, it is a long hallway, about 200′, lined with large picture windows. These windows allow you to see the candy being made inside of the chocolate factory, but unfortunately, this in and of itself is not terribly informative.

While staring through the windows, I found that I had way more questions than answers.

Such as, “What does that machine do?”

and

“How about that other machine, what does that one do?”

and

“Look at that machine over there, what does it do?”

You get the idea.

The problem is … nobody was around to answer these questions.

I am one of those “thirst for knowledge” kind of people. As a child, the encyclopedia was my favorite book to read, and even today, my leisurely reading typically involves surfing obscure topics on Wikipedia with my laptop. On this day, I was hoping to learn all kinds of obscure facts about candy making, such as:

White chocolate is made from the sperm of bull elephants and is collected by dosing them with 12mg of Phencyclidine three seconds before ejaculation.

I wanted to learn something cool that someone who had not been to Ethel M would never have known.

Alas, this was not the case.

For the duration of my self-guided tour, the factory floor was damn near empty. There were less than ten people making candy in the whole place, and most of the machines were sitting idle.

Ethel M Chocolate Factory Sample Lady

Fortunately, there was food to be had. At the end of the hallway, a woman allowed us to choose two samples, and I selected the pecan brittle and a dark chocolate coin. Of the two, I preferred the pecan brittle. It was quite good. As soon as I audibly praised the candy, the sample woman informed me that I could buy some in the store. Subtle.

After spending some time walking up and down the hallway, looking at the candy machines, and consuming a couple of samples … we were routed to, you guessed it … the aforementioned Ethel M’s candy store. Actually, the tour is anchored on both sides by stores where you can purchase food and gifts, which I suppose makes sense. I do get a little cynical and put-off when I’m trapped like a tourist in these kinds of places, but given that selling stuff is their entire business, it’s hard to complain. Instead, when I am in these circumstances … I just roll my eyes, mumble something sarcastic under my breath, and smile politely.

Ethel M Candy Store

Now, before leaving for Ethel’s I had budgeted $20 with which to purchase candy. This seemed quite reasonable. When I was a kid, I used to take a crisp dollar bill to a local bodega and walked out with a package of Reese’s peanut butter cups and a Hershey Bar. To me, that was high living.

Upon entering the Ethel’s store, however, I quickly learned that twenty dollars was incredibly naive.

I don’t mean to sound like a penny-pinching, coupon-clipping blue hair … but when did candy become so expensive?

For instance, $5 for a chocolate covered strawberry???

Ouch.

Ethel M Candy Store - Chocolate Covered Strawberries

I once ate twelve of these things in one sitting at the Bellagio Buffet. Apparently, I really got my money’s worth.

Seriously, I walked around the Ethel’s store with a perpetual case of sticker shock.

Remember the pecan brittle I was fond of? I looked around and finally found it in the store. The cost? $10 for three pieces. I was with six people. This means that, for each of us to get a single square of pecan brittle, it would have cost twenty dollars.

Ethel M Candy Store - Pecan Brittles

Ethel M Candy Store - Gourmet Chocolates

Ethel M is hardcore when it comes to pricing.

I didn’t completely cheap out, though. We bought some random stuff which totalled $39 when all was said and done … but the quantity of our loot was really meager for that expenditure. Since the store was so far away from Rexville, I probably should have purchased more, but I just can’t see spending that much for candy. I ate some of the Ethel’s “gourmet” chocolate, and it was good, but honestly … I don’t think I’ve ever had “bad chocolate”. When I get a chocolate craving, I’m completely satisfied with a Hershey Bar from 7-11.

I think the taste difference between a $10 chocolate bar and a $1.29 chocolate bar is largely a placebo effect. It’s been shown time and again that humans “taste price”. This is the very basis for expensive restaurants. The more people pay for food, the better they will swear it tastes. It’s psychological. People will pay a high premium for something if they are convinced that it is “better”, even if there is no evidence supporting the superiority. I’m sure you’ve seen the hidden-camera specials on TV where people are given water out of a garden hose and told that it comes from a small village in the Swiss Alps at which point they exclaim “it taste’s so clean”.

Despite our technological advances as a species, the sad fact of the matter is … we are still dumb, insecure animals. Most of us will spend our lives trying to buy an identity, and we will continue to measure ourselves against others by the amount of money we spend on equivalent goods.

Ethel M provides a good opportunity to further this endeavor.

Please, don’t get me wrong. Ethel’s candies are good. Very good. They are quite tasty and I enjoyed them.

However, are they, say, 5 times better tasting than working-class convenience store candies?

Eh, probably not unless your taste buds are super-sensitive.

Anyway, after paying forty bucks for loot that fit in a single bag, we headed out to the Ethel M’s Botanical Garden. Now this place … was kind of cool. Ethel’s maintains a variety of desert plants adjacent to their factory, and they invite visitors to stroll the grounds and hang out for as long as they wish. Not only are there plants, but we also spotted various forms of wildlife such as lizards, birds, and even a rabbit. We spent a solid hour browsing around and relaxing on the benches, and fortunately, this particular part of the Ethel’s experience was absolutely free. The Botanical Garden was so interesting and stress-free that it really took the sting out of $39 worth of chocolate.

Ethel M Chocolate Factory - Cactus Garden

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Cactus Garden

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Lizard

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Cactus Garden

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Rabbit

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Cactus Garden

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Lizard

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Cactus Garden

Ethel M Botanical Garden - Rabbit

For me, the Botanical Garden made the trip, and when I polled my companions, they all concurred. The candy was good, but the garden was better. Because of this, the overall experience actually turned out to be quite positive, and I was glad that we went.

As far as recommendations …

If you are considering a trip to Ethel M to see how candy is made, I would highly advise you to spring for in-room Wi-Fi and search “making candy” on YouTube instead. It will probably be much more informative.

If you want to actually eat candy, then a trip to Ethel M is absolutely recommended.

Like every place else in Las Vegas, however, bring money … and lots of it.

The Other Nugget

Rex — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 16:02:58 +0000

I had a few things to take care of near Cashman Field earlier this week, and while there, I saw the large Jerry’s Nugget oil well sign in the distance.

Entering North Las Vegas City Limits - Jerry's Nugget Casino

Jerry's Nugget Max Bus Stop

Jerry’s Nugget is officially in the city limits of North Las Vegas, but its location of only 1.5 miles north of Fremont Street is enough to consider it a pseudo-Downtown property. Even though this is the case, I’ve only visited Jerry’s a handful of times in the last decade.

Today, I decided to add another visit to that meager total.

As I drove through the dusty nothingness that is the Las Vegas/North Las Vegas border and approached the entrance to Jerry’s, my passenger yelled “There it is!”.

Assuming he had lost his damn mind getting this excited about a locals casino, I turned toward him to level a well-placed insult when I saw him pointing out the window at the Palomino Club.

World Famous Palomino

“That’s the only all-nude strip bar in Vegas!”, he exclaimed.

“Ahhhhhh … that Palomino Club”, I said.

Honestly, I had all but forgotten that the place was located across from Jerry’s.

“Have you been in there?”, he asked.

I searched my brain forward and backward, and realized that no … no I had not. I was somewhat mortified by this revelation. 12 years visiting Vegas and 6 years living here, and I have not been to the world famous Palomino Club. At least not that I can remember.

See kids, this is exactly what happens when you visit the Apple Store one too many times. You walk in a man, and walk out a neutered she-male who “respects women, diversity, and a magical software ecosystem”.

Suffice to say that The World Famous Palomino is now on my calendar. I plan on going there the day after I buy the new HTC EVO 4G phone and load it with apps from the Android Porn Store. I’m completely serious. In 2010, I am making it priority #1 to reclaim my testes.

Anyway, I parked my Lamborghini with titanium-plated spark plugs and power door locks in a space in the near-empty lot and we headed into the casino.

Jerry's Nugget Crotch Port

Once inside, I realized why I probably don’t go to Jerry’s too terribly often. It’s a nice place, perfectly acceptable in every way, but “acceptable” is not a good enough reason to visit a casino which is located … for the most part … on Skid Row. I mean this literally.

Jerry’s Nugget is located just three short blocks from Foremaster Lane, which is the center of the Las Vegas homeless community. As a matter of fact, I made a bee-line for the restroom after walking through the main doors of the casino, but I had to wait outside as security escorted a homeless man out of the men’s room … sleeping bag and all (don’t worry, the guard was gentle).

Honestly, the immense number of homeless people wandering around Jerry’s does not bother me, but that being said, it doesn’t attract me either. Entertainment is supposed to be an escape, but Jerry’s doesn’t let you forget about the harsh realities of life just outside of its doors.

After draining the monster, we wandered around Jerry’s, and did pretty much the only thing there was to do. Gamble.

Jerry's Nugget Casino - Video Poker

Jerry's Nugget Casino

Jerry's Nugget Casino - Video Poker

We played a little $5 blackjack, which was cool … but I decided to call it a day when we moved over to the video machines.

You see, Bonus Poker is my video game of choice, and both the nickel and quarter variants I found at Jerry’s had 6/5 paytables. I understand that the limits I was looking for were quite low, but still … 6/5 Bonus at a locals joint seems a little off to me.

One thing I did like about Jerry’s gaming machines was the presence of coin-operated slots and video poker machines (which I still prefer to TITO), but this just wasn’t enough for me to get passed the uninspiring payouts.

We walked around a little more, checked out the sports book, and then took leave of J-Nug.

On our way back to the car, we passed a couple of security guards roaming the lot, and when I clicked the remote to unlock my door from about 40′ away, someone bolted from the passenger’s side of my car and began running in the opposite direction.

I can’t say with 100% certainty what he was doing, but based on oh, 41 years of life experience, I’m pretty sure that he had been peering through our windows to see if there was anything inside worth smashing-and-grabbing. It appears that we had returned to the car just in time. Since this is about par for the course in Central Vegas, I don’t want to imply that Jerry’s Nugget has a safety issue … but I would be irresponsible to pretend that the property is suitable for every visitor demographic.

Jerry’s is located in an economically depressed area of Las Vegas, and while you will be perfectly safe inside of the property, this is not an area in which you want to take a drunken stroll at any time of the day or night.

This is also one of the few places where I would absolutely recommend using the valet, as they keep the cars in front and the attendants keep an eye on them. The crotch port at Jerry’s is also surprisingly nice given the environs.

Jerry's Nugget Valet

Jerry's Nugget Casino - Antique Slot Machines

Jerry's Nugget Water Fountain and Rose Garden

Jerry’s Nugget is not a bad joint. It’s got a throwback kind of charm. I’ve been told that they have a very generous rewards program (I do not have a card myself and cannot vouch for this), and it appears to have a strong appeal with some groups of locals.

If you miss coin hoppers and you don’t mind a quick detour through Las Vegas’s Skid Row, Jerry’s might be worth a shot.

That being said, I’m not sure that I will return anytime soon. I just have too many alternatives nearer to my home.

Well, with the exception of the Palomino Club.

Stay tuned for that one.

P.S. Yes, I know that there is a third “nugget”, The Silver Nugget, and I’ll get around to that one eventually.

The Silver Nugget Casino

Away From It All

Rex — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 05:47:53 +0000

It rained more in Vegas last week alone than in all of 2009, and even though the “storms” here are laughable by East Coast standards (our heaviest day of flooding was caused by .89 inches of rain), the precipitation still left a nice coating of snow on the mountains.

Since Sunday is the day of the week with the least amount of traffic in the Vegas Valley, we took advantage of the relatively empty roads and cool temperatures to spend a day in Red Rock and the adjacent canyon.

The trip is actually a pretty easy drive from The Arts District. You simply head west on Charleston Boulevard and 25 minutes later … there you are. Believe it or not, Charleston is the precise road that takes you from Sunrise Manor, to Rexville, to Red Rock Canyon. If you can catch favorable light timings (which I never do), the trip can actually be made in roughly 15 minutes.

Shortly after passing the Red Rock Casino we entered the canyon and were greeted with some of the nicest natural scenery that Nevada has to offer.

Red Rock Casino

Red Rock Canyon

Spring Mountain Ranch State Park

Red Rock Canyon

Wild Burro at Red Rock Canyon

In addition to simply looking around, the canyon also offers one of my other favorite natural attractions, and that is the wild burros. These typically-gentle creatures roam the area in search of food and copulation.

Last month, the BLM (Bureau of Land Management) began rounding up these creatures in an effort to relocate them. Because of this, there are noticeably fewer animals to be seen. The BLM claims that the canyon is becoming overpopulated with the animals, and that the burros are in danger of starving to death — therefore, the agency is spending nearly $400,000 to have them relocated and/or adopted.

Is this the right thing to do?

Frankly, I do not know. There were protests over this project last month, but unfortunately I am not educated enough on the specifics of burro habitats to draw a conclusion and be able to defend it. I hope the BLM is doing the right thing, but I fear they are not. My inclination is that if the four-legged animals thrived in the canyon for thousands of years, then the habitat is more than suitable for them, but our benevolent government always knows best … so who am I to question their motives

The burros tend to gently beg for food from humans, and it is technically illegal for us to feed them (it is a $25 fine). Many people ignore this rule. As a matter of fact, here I am in a photograph today giving the burro one of the two whole grain bars I brought for lunch. If someone from the BLM wants to email me a ticket, I’ll gladly pay it.

Wild Burro at Red Rock Canyon

If the Bureau’s position is that the animals in the canyon are starving, then the creatures are more than welcome to whatever food I have on me if they come up and “ask” for it. If the BLM says they are hungry, I take them at their word. Being cited for feeding a hungry animal is something I can live with.

The other stated problem with feeding the burros is that they will come to trust humans, but by the time a lone adult burro actively seeks you out, it’s fair to say that this cat is already out of the bag.

After watching my lunch date wander off in search of more sustenance, I hopped back in the car and headed for Blue Diamond.

Bonnie Springs Ranch

Entrance to Blue Diamond, Nevada

Welcome To Blue Diamond, Nevada

Blue Diamond is a place I discovered quite by accident toward the former half of the decade. I headed the wrong direction trying to get back into Vegas, and ended up passing a small village which openly advertised its relationship with the local burro population.

Located about 20 miles west of Las Vegas, Blue Diamond is a minuscule town of 282 people, and it’s one of the smallest self-contained villages I’ve personally encountered in the USA.

The town has a post office, an elementary school, a general store (with slot machines of course), and it looks like a throwback to Mayberry. It almost reminds me of a movie set. Since cops like to live away from the people they interact with on a daily basis, the percentage of police officers residing in this town is high. Blue Diamond is also a frequent stop for bicyclists who use Red Rock Canyon as a training location. This place is so strangely isolated, that you don’t feel like you are near a major population center of 2 million people. It seems as if you are literally hundreds of miles away from the traffic, crime, and chaos of Vegas.

I like to stop and hang out in the park just to get away from it all. It’s very relaxing, and it’s a great place to kick back without being bothered … while not having to resort to hiking into a remote desert area. Cellphone service is decent, which also makes it an ideal place to take care of some business.

Blue Diamond, Nevada

Blue Diamond Four Square Church

Blue Diamond, Nevada

Blue Diamond Post Office

Blue Diamond, Nevada

Blue Diamond Library

Blue Diamond, Nevada

Blue Diamond Bike Outpost

Blue Diamond Private Park

Blue Diamond Memorial

Blue Diamond Village Market

Blue Diamond Sheriff's Department

Inside The Blue Diamond Village Market

Blue Diamond, Nevada

Blue Diamond Gas Station

Blue Diamond Elementary School

Leaving Blue Diamond, Nevada

About Blue Diamond, Nevada

Overall, this was a very pleasant Sunday. It’s not often that I get further than one or two miles from Las Vegas Boulevard, but sometimes it’s a nice change of pace. No porn racks, nobody asking me for money every five seconds, no graffiti, no cops looking to clobber the first person they encounter. Don’t get me wrong, I like the area from the Mandalay Bay to the El Cortez, but it can get a little overwhelming everyday for months in a row.

The proximity of Rexville to Red Rock Canyon is one of those things that make living in Las Vegas slightly less painful.

The Canyon is fine to visit during the Summer, but in my opinion, it’s twice as nice during the winter months.

If you have yet to make the trek between November and March … I highly recommend giving it a shot.

If you do go, remember, do not feed the burros.

Especially don’t feed them apples or whole grains.

They love the stuff, and if there is anything we will not stand for in Nevada, it’s an uppity well-fed burro with enough caloric energy to outrun the BLM.

No Good Deed

Rex — Tue, 29 Dec 2009 03:13:49 +0000

About a year or so ago, I visited a property that shall remain nameless. As I walked through Nameless Hotel and Casino, I passed a security guard who nonchalantly said “Hi, Vegas Rex”.

I looked up, realized I had never seen the gentleman before, and said “Hi, do I know you?”

“You don’t know me, but we are notified as soon as you walk in”, he said.

“That doesn’t sound good”, I hesitantly responded.

The guard went on to explain to me that they were instructed to leave me alone unless I was doing something disruptive. They knew that I was not a terrorist and the casino didn’t mind being written about, as long as it wasn’t in the context of “… where I was beaten by a security guard”. Believe it or not, some places actually want the publicity of my being somewhere. Especially if I write about it.

Of course, this was one property. Not everyone is obligated to abide by the “leave Rex alone rule”, although I really wish it were put into law somewhere. When I become Mayor, rest assured that it will be.

While I will not mention the name of the specific property referenced above, I will tell you where it is not. The Hard Rock Hotel and Casino.

Last week I received an email containing a standard boilerplate press release announcing the Monday opening of the HRH Tower and Casino at the Hard Rock — with the addition “why don’t you come by and take a look at it” typed at the bottom.

The Hard Rock is not a frequent destination for yours truly, and it has been a couple of months since I have been inside of the property … but I typed the date in my calendar and thought little else of it. Until today.

I had to deposit someone at the airport this morning, and after checking my calendar, I decided to drop by the Hard Rock for about half an hour. It was admirable that they still opened the expansion in these economic conditions. It was downright ballsy that they would open alongside City Center.

Hard Rock Hotel and Casino - HRH Tower Garage

Hard Rock Hotel and Casino - HRH Tower

Hard Rock Hotel and Casino – HRH Tower

HRH Tower - Vanity Nightclub

Because of this, I wanted to try and give them props. Honestly, I went in looking for every bit of good that I could possibly find. Say what you will about me, but on the whole I think I am fairly generous and forgiving.

After parking the Bentley (I traded in the Porsche for something that better matched my shoes), I walked into the Hard Rock main entrance and found the spot where the original “Joint” used to be. I saw many a show in this venue, and was bummed when they closed it, so it was nice to see that they at least did put the space to use.

The “new” casino retains the same theme as the rest of the property. It’s still modern with video monitors and plenty of rock and roll memorabilia on the wall. There are gaming tables, a central bar, an attractive high-limit room, and in a first for a Las Vegas casino … slot machines. The color scheme seems more or less identical to that on the main floor, although the new casino has a standard hallway layout verses the “casino-in-the-round” design of the older gaming area.

HRH Tower Casino

One thing that did surprise me was the emptiness of the property. New additions tend to attract a large number of onlookers, but this was a decidedly low-key affair. Work was still being finished in the casino, and there was a definite “still under construction” vibe going on.

I walked around, made small talk with a few employees, and circled the casino floor while snapping a few low-res photos along the way.

When I finished orienting myself, I decided to pull out my “real” camera with my accompanying ©Big Ass Flash.

The ©Big Ass Flash tends to be slightly overwhelming, so I sought out the nearest security personnel simply to give them a courtesy heads up. Given the dearth of patrons, I did not anticipate this being a problem.

I made my way to the security podium, and began my conversation:

“Good morning. The place looks nice. I already got a few dozen shots but I’d like to light the room up a bit and get some high resolution photos to showcase the additions”, I said.

The older gentleman working security looked up and said “Who are you?”

I immediately replied “I’m Vegas Motherf**king Rex, bitch … check yo’self fool!”

At this point, I pulled out my 9mm pistol, held it to his head, and yelled “What’s my name? What’s my name?”

Tears streamed down his face as he screamed “I’m sorry Vegas Rex, please forgive me”, and it was at this point that I busted a cap in his ass because a brother can’t afford to let his pimp hand go soft, knowhatimsayin’?

After the above scene played out in my head, I calmly responded “My name is Rex and I’m just checking out the expansion.”

“Were you invited?”, he asked.

“Was I invited to the casino?”, I responded.

“Were you invited to take pictures?”, he said.

“I don’t know what that means. I was asked to come and check it out by people who know that I take pictures”, I replied.

“May I see the invitation?”, he asked.

“I didn’t get an invitation, I got an email asking me to come, and lucky you … here I am”, I stated flatly.

“Did you print out the email?”, he responded.

“Nope”, I said.

“Can you print it out and come back?”, he asked.

“You want me to go home, open my email applications, print out the email, come back, present it to you, and then take photos?”, I asked.

“Yes”, he said.

I laughed, stuffed my ©Big Ass Flash Unit in the bag next to my laptop and just … left.

Now, I could have easily fired up my Blackberry and showed him the email on the spot. I also could have pulled out my “mainstream” media badge (yes, I have one). You might be surprised where you have viewed some of my other crap.

I didn’t do either of these things, however.

First of all, there was nothing inside so spectacular that made any extra effort on my part worthwhile. I didn’t spot the Hope Diamond or an elusive unicorn. It was a casino.

Second, it doesn’t make sense for me to jump through hoops for the privilege of promoting or advertising someone else’s properties under my name anymore. It confers absolutely no benefit upon yours truly. It’s hard enough to get me motivated to go somewhere specific in the first place, and even harder to get me to give a damn once I get there. It’s a big town with a lot of places to go. I can take or leave any specific place.

Third, the Hard Rock should pay for advertising, not get a free ride. PR folks will always have fanboy brigades, sock puppets, and meat puppets, but I’m not sure how much they really matter.

Casino ad budgets have been slashed, mainstream media is cutting back on salaried reporters every week, and circulation for most publications are in the toilet.

I’ve already been burned while trying to get business for places that I thought deserved it. I got 100,000+ unique views pimping Sexxpresso, I distributed photos to wire services which in turn got millions of more views, yet I couldn’t even get the ladies to pose on a return visit. I brought 20 people to the Gold Spike last summer, and they complained that we brought them too much business. Not only that, but they raised the table limits and treated our highest roller poorly. I vouched for the Strip Hard Rock Cafe a few months ago, and they treated two of our members like crap on a recent visit.

Since every PR and marketing person in this town has done such a spectacular job of imploding and making piss-poor decisions over the last several years, I’m going to relax, grab a box of popcorn, and just sit back and watch. I’ll do my own thing and give my honest opinions, but I’ll do it at my own leisure and I’ll take the path of least resistance. Cloud 9 was the beginning of the end for this nonsense. I’m five years into this and I’m not going out on a limb for anyone at this point. Screw the fanboy crap. This town’s already a giant toolbox. That’s why nobody believes the hype that spews forth from our orifices anymore.

Furthermore, it shouldn’t matter who I am. Let’s say for the sake of argument that I am Harry Balsagna from Buttcrack, Indiana. If I come into your casino with a camera … kiss my ass. Hell, if I come into the casino at all … kiss my ass.

Anyway, the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino opened a 350 suite tower today in addition to 40,000 square feet of casino space, blah blah blah whatever.

I guess I just wrote an article about them anyway.

Touche’ Hard Rock.

Season’s Greetings

Rex — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 04:01:36 +0000

For the very first time, I visited Town Square this year for their Christmas festivities and it was actually quite enjoyable.

The “town” was quite crowded, and we even got to enjoy a psuedo-white Christmas. At 7pm (Sun thru Thur) and 8pm (Fri and Sat), Town Square uses snow machines to blanket the central Christmas tree, and for 10 minutes it actually feels like you are somewhere, anywhere, other than Las Vegas. Especially with last night’s temperatures in the 30′s.

Snowing at Town Square

Afterward, there was a large amount of Christmas shopping, window shopping, coffee sipping, and the place just felt alive as people from all ages and all walks of life milled about and seemed to be having a good time.

I can’t help but feel that Town Square is everything City Center promised to be, but isn’t. Well except for the casino and hotels.

Anyway, after playing in the “snow” and doing some shopping, we headed over to the Las Vegas Sign which is one short mile north of the Town Square parking lot.

We have a lot of whacky Vegas traditions, and a yearly family picture at the Vegas Sign is one of them. Unfortunately, I had forgotten that the sign had been vandalized for the second time this year, and they have yet to repair the latest round of damage. As I watched one group after another queue up to take photos in front of the damaged sign, I could not help but feel bad that some of them were getting their first souvenir under an imperfect landmark.

Welcome to Las Vegas Sign - Vandalized

While I blame the perpetrator for this vandalism (I’ll personally never mention his name), I do also hold the media somewhat accountable.

There is no doubt in my mind that the mass local and national hysteria that followed the preceding round of vandalism was responsible for making the sign a higher profile target. Vandals city-wide no longer have to toil in obscurity after throwing up their tags. They are now acutely aware that hitting the sign provides insta-cred and instant attention.

Oscar Goodman’s “Off with their heads!” nonsense didn’t help matters either. It was a bunch of false bravado (I’m pretty sure the vandal still has a head) meant to sound like a cool sound-bite, but which will do little more than to egg on others. Hopefully Oscar will stick to what he does best, which is being the city’s greatest media whore.

After getting some photographs, we began walking back to the car when I stepped on something. When I looked down, I noticed that I had stumbled upon a lost wallet, and I immediately picked it up and looked around. How in the hell would I know who it belonged to?

Of course, this being Las Vegas, I didn’t openly solicit the owner. Had I held it above my head and asked “Did anyone lose a wallet?”, I would have been swamped with claimants.

Instead, I flipped it open, looked at the driver’s license, and then looked for a person matching the photo.

Nothing.

I stood in the spot where I found it for a little while, and nobody came back looking for it. I looked through the wallet for a phone number, but to no avail. There was a YMCA membership card and an auto body business card, but being nighttime, I knew they would not be open.

I didn’t have all night, so I threw it in the glove compartment of the car and decided to deal with it in the morning.

I had all but forgotten about the wallet this morning, but I resumed my search for the owner shortly after noon. I called the YMCA and let it ring about 20 times before giving up. Same with the repair shop. Being Christmas Eve, this came as no surprise.

It was at this point I turned to the banking information. There were about 7 credit/ATM cards inside, so I plucked the first one out and dialed the number on the back.

The following conversation transpired:

CSR (customer service rep): Card Services, may I help you?

Me: Hello, I am in Las Vegas and I found the wallet of one of your card members, could you please have him call me so that I may return it to him?”

CSR: I’m sorry, but we can’t do that.

Me: I know you can’t give me his information, so I am giving you my information so that he can call me and retrieve his property. I assume that he is on vacation and needs his money so that he can enjoy himself. Vegas is not a lot of fun without cash.

CSR: No sir, we cannot do that. If you give me the card number, I will cancel it.

Me: How is that going to help anyone? If I was interested in using his credit card, I would not be calling you. I’m trying to return it.

CSR: I understand Sir, but all we can do is cancel it.

Me: What about his other six cards?

CSR: You should call the number on the back of those cards and cancel them as well.

Me: I should spend my Christmas Eve canceling some guy’s credit cards?

CSR: Yes.

Me: Wouldn’t the right thing to do be return his wallet while he’s on vacation?

CSR: If you don’t want his cards used without authorization, you should cancel them.

Me: If I don’t want his cards used without authorization, I just won’t use them.

CSR: Well, that’s your choice, we are a third party card services company and we are not authorized to release customer information.

Me: (at this point I began wishing her a happy holiday)

CSR: Sir, I’m not required to listen to profanity.

Me: (hang up)

Clearly the company was solely concerned about their own liability and did not give a damn about their customer who was on vacation.

Apparently, I will have no choice but to drop the thing in a mailbox, and ship it back to Florida. I am aware that the cards will probably be cancelled by the time the wallet gets there, and his vacation is undoubtedly ruined, but there is absolutely nothing that I can do.

Do I have a point?

Yes.

As you struggle to buy gifts for loved ones this year, you can take heart knowing that much of your money has already been given as a gift to corrupt parasitic corporations staffed by minimum-wage assholes who would just as shit down your throat as look at you.

Town Square Christmas Tree

Merry Christmas.

Suckers.

Tons of Silver

Rex — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 06:16:52 +0000

After two weeks of City Center/Bellagio/City Center/Sahara/City Center/Planet Hollywood/City Center (note the pattern), I decided to get out of town this weekend.

Fortunately, when your sphere-of-being is the geographic area between Fremont Street and the Mandalay Bay, “getting out of town” requires little more than crossing the I-15.

On Saturday morning, I gave serious consideration as to my casino choice of the day. I didn’t just want to go someplace far. Red Rock Station is “far”, but I’ve already been there a hundred times. I wanted to go someplace unfamiliar. A place with a different flavor. A place to lift the burnout of PR speak, over-saturation, and talking points. A place that didn’t have a Twitter account. A place void of scenesters, trendsters, and those who are hipper-than-thou. Someplace that was not on the radar of a single talking head within a 100 mile radius.

Silverton Casino Lodge

I double clicked the ever-present Las Vegas casino map that resides on my desktop, and the Silverton caught my eye almost as soon as the file opened.

Here was a place that I had only been to two times in the past decade, yet it was only about 10 miles from Rexville. It’s a place that doesn’t get a huge amount of publicity because it doesn’t seem to need it. It’s consistently held in high regards by its patrons, and tends to lay low.

It seemed almost perfect.

I jumped in the Porsche, headed south, pulled onto Blue Diamond Road, passed a truck stop, and arrived at the casino who’s exterior reminded me a bit of Sam’s Town.

Silverton Casino Lodge in Las Vegas

I walked through the main entrance, and immediately stopped in my tracks.

Why?

Because Santa Claus was waving at me.

“So what, Rex, it’s that time of year. Santa Claus waves at me at the local mall.”

Fair enough, but this Santa Claus was fully submerged in a gigantic fish tank surrounded by sharks and other fish while breathing through scuba gear.

“Touche’, Rex.”

Indeed.