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Every now and then, something I’ve written causes me to feel like a bag of Richards.

I am a slightly moody individual, and if I am annoyed under particular circumstances, I have a tendency to become hypercritical about things sometimes which do not deserve the scorn aimed at them.

Such a case was made recently among some of my forum members.

Apparently, a couple of people felt that I was being too hard on Downtown Las Vegas’ “Summer of 69” theme.

Even though I think I have been overwhelmingly positive about Downtown as a whole for the past year, I will admit to being harsh on the hippie stuff as of late.

The way I see it is this.  The current Downtown theme is a lot like an old dog with a flatulence problem.  It farts while you are eating dinner, poops in the living room, snores when it is sleeping, and becomes a bit of a nuisance.

When it finally kicks the bucket, though, you miss it.  You minimize the mess and the smell, and instead, you tend to look back at all of the good times you had.

Well, the Summer of 69 is my farting dog.

Since Downtown is not only my playground, but it is also my center of business, I spend a large amount of time here both day and night.  It’s true that familiarity breeds contempt, and I have been vocalizing that contempt as of late.

While I can’t deny that I am still tie-dye overloaded, the truth of the matter is … Downtown Las Vegas has been working very hard to provide a quality entertainment experience, and from all accounts … it is working brilliantly.

While The Strip does nothing more than lower room rates and lower payouts in order to compensate for the economic realities in which we find ourselves, Fremont Street actually puts forth an effort.  Good concerts, light shows, farmer’s markets, new ideas in the gaming pits … they spend a large amount of time and money, and they work tirelessly to come up with ideas to get people under the canopy.

Last night, I realized that my gaseous canine only had a short time left to live.  Instead of kicking him for making a mess in the house, I decided that I would enjoy my last few moments with him.  I wanted to pet him.  Play fetch.  Take him for a walk.  Spread peanut butter on my coin purse and have him lick it off.  You know, the usual things you do with the valued family pet.

And so I gathered up a few people and once again made the five minute trek to Fremont Street.

When I arrived on Fremont, the first thing I heard was the wails of “Foxy Lady”.

The Jimi Hendrix Tribute was already playing, and when I got to the stage I began to enjoy the performance of a very tight band.

The frontman of the trio is a guitarist named Byron Bordeaux, and the man is a born entertainer.  Not only is he a talented guitarist, but when playing tribute to Hendrix, he goes the extra mile in order to  pay homage.

The “real” Jimi was left-handed and played a right-handed guitar upside down with the low E restrung to the top and the high E to the bottom.

Byron is right-handed, yet plays a restrung left-handed guitar upside down to give the same visual image (albeit in reverse).  Not only does it have a Hendrix-esque appearance, but given that the bridge pickup on a Strat is angled, this stringing alters the sound of the guitar to match that of the original, and this configuration would require a great deal of practice to get “right”.

As the concert progressed, I realized that this was not simply a cover group.  The band changed arrangements of songs and improvised solos which were whole creations of the individual band itself.

I’m typically not a huge fan of lengthy YouTube videos.  Boredom tends to set in at the 90 second mark, and I have begun making a concerted effort to skew toward shorter videos for this very reason.  It’s the nature of the Internet.  That which is interesting at 30 seconds becomes drying paint at 2 minutes.

This one shall be an exception.  The progression from Voodoo Child (Slight Return) to the Star Spangled Banner to Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” and back to Voodoo really is worth an entire 10 minutes out of your life to watch the video in its entirety.  At least if you are a Hendrix fan.  Or just a fan of music.

While all of the Summer of 69 shows have been absolutely great, after last night, these guys have probably obtained “personal favorite” status.

After taking in a couple of concerts and several light shows, it was time to hit the gaming pits.

On this particular night, I played in three venues … Binion’s, The Las Vegas Club, and The Golden Gate.

At Binion’s, gone are the cowgirl dealers and gone are the tie-dyed dealers.  Last night the B had something closer to the Fetish Pit.  Slinging cards were women with ample cleavage and behind them were girls shaking their things on a stripper pole in the background.  On weekend nights, Binion’s is now a full-blown stripper pit.  Nice.

The Las Vegas Club still had the “Fetish Pit” running, this time with different girls, and the Golden Gate is now in on the “party pit” act as well.

At this time, much less skin is revealed at the Golden Gate, but my guess is that it will evolve over time.

Since all three casinos are so close together, what I would really like to see is the free market begin to work.  A “skin competition” if you will.  If you have three party pits adjacent to one another, it is a natural expectation that each property will feel the need to up the ante in order to cannibalize the clients of the other.

Such a paradigm lays the ground work for a race to the least covered dealers in all of Downtown Las Vegas.

As one pit becomes more popular than the other, the underdog pit will respond by taking an article of clothing from the dealers, while the next pit will make the costumes even thinner, while the next one … feeling the competitive pressure … will give each dealer a single sheet of Saran Wrap in which to dress for the night.

Dare to dream.

After I finished about two hours of gambling, and did well enough to not put myself in a bad mood, I topped off the night with two Golden Gate 99¢ shrimp cocktails.

When you can spend a night listening to good music, looking at fine women, winning a little money, and filling up on less than two dollars … it is a good night.

And so it was.

Downtown once again delivered … theme and all.

As tired as I may have grown of the tie-dye and hippie vibe, looking back in a purely objective manner … I would have to call this particular theme an overwhelming success.  They pull a consistent crowd every night, and the vibe is significantly more festive than it is 4 miles to the south.

My general crankiness notwithstanding, kudos goes to Downtown for getting off their ass and making an effort.

If you had told me five years ago that Fremont Street would be far more enjoyable than the Las Vegas Strip, I would have considered you a Strip-hating, Downtown fanboy.

At this point in time, however, I would just consider you rational.

Fremont has delivered a consistent experience all summer, and I can’t think of a single circumstance where a visit has not been positive.  For those coming to Las Vegas looking for a good time and good odds, Downtown is now the place to be.

Much like a loyal dog with an abundance of methane and a weak sphincter … the Summer of 69 will be fondly remembered for years to come.

While I am eagerly looking forward to the next incarnation of Fremont Street (might I suggest an “Asian Massage Parlor” theme), in retrospect all I can say is … well done, Downtown.

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