What happened to the Vegas we loved?

It's summer, and I biked 27 miles earlier this evening. How I love the 9 p.m. sunsets in Minneapolis. We get them for a few weeks of they year, and I take advantage of them. I have things I want to write, and will, even if it kills me. For now, here's my attempt at polishing an idea I started a few months ago, but shelved. It lacks keen insight, but here it is nonetheless.

Why do we pine for the days of yesteryear? The simple answer is that it is in our DNA to do so.

I've been going to Vegas since January 1997. I've seen a lot change in nearly two decades, but the evolution of mega-resorts on the Las Vegas strip was already underway. My first trip included three nights at the enormous MGM.

I can cite a lot of changes in Vegas over the 19 years I've been visiting Sin City. I no longer stay on the strip, and my bankroll hasn't grown as much as I'd like given two decades of professional employment.

I follow a few Vegas conversation resources, and one thing that caught my attention was a discussion on the Facebook page for the "Five Hundy by Midnight" podcast. 

A gentleman by the name of Bob Smith wrote the following: 

Last week, Tim & Michelle spent some time talking about how change is a constant in Vegas and how many of us believe it was a better experience when we first took it in, whether that was 10, 20 or 40 years ago. The comparison Tim used was how most of us think the best music happened to arrive in our teens and early 20's. That's a very valid point. However, when it comes to recent changes, there's nothing nostalgic about assessing better vs. worse.

Resort Fees: inarguably worse

6:5 blackjack: ditto

MGM parking fees: yep

Double odds at Wynn craps: worse

Reduced video poker pay tables: not better

Early check-in & related random fees: bad

Those are just off the top of my head. Yes, those who say Vegas was better "when the mob ran the town" may be indulging in nostalgic revisionism, and it makes for an interesting discussion. However, the steady march toward squeezing nickels and dimes out of every visitor is a different matter entirely. Many (most?) of the items listed above have taken hold in just the past decade. It has rapidly and permanently changed the Vegas experience for the worse. We can try to avoid these fees and gaming odds adjustments and we should. But in time, all the Strip & Downtown casinos will almost certainly fall in line, as they have with resort fees. Yes, we'll still visit Vegas on a regular basis, but with an increasingly jaded eye. Better or worse? Mostly, it's really just sad. 

I took a few economics classes in college, and I use to be really good at math. A long time ago. So here's a layman's analysis of why the good old days that Smith spoke of have gone by the wayside. 

In the 1980s Vegas had a huge advantage over the rest of the country, it was the place to go for gambling. Yes, there was Reno, and Atlantic City's casino industry was trying to put a dent into the Vegas experience, but for the most part, Vegas was a magical destination like no other. We like to think of it as a Disney World for adults. 

The thrill of hitting it big at a slot machine couldn't be matched locally, at least here in Minnesota, where I live. Gambling just wasn't a part of our day-to-day life here in the Midwest. I remember churches would occasionally run some forms of gambling under the guise of a church festival, designed to make money for the parish... and why not? Isn't that how God wants a church to be funded?

But gambling here in Minnesota, and certainly other parts of the country, began to change in the 1980s. The 1980s brought parimutuel betting to Minnesota. The poor man's Churchill Downs gave degenerate gamblers a place to prove reading the Daily Racing Form was a sweet science. During the 1990s our neighbors to the east, Wisconsin, had a handful of dog tracks for the same purpose, including one less than 30 minutes from St. Paul, one of our celebrated Twin Cities.

Lotteries weren't unheard of in the '80s, but we didn't have them in Minnesota until the late 1980s, or perhaps early 1990s. I'm quite sure Wisconsin beat us to the lottery game by a year or three, but nonetheless, both states climbed aboard that train, turning just about every gas station into a neighborhood casino. Do lottery games replace the thrill of the craps table? Not by a long shot, but suddenly there was a way to turn $1 into $100, even if the odds were lousy.

I didn't go to bars in the '80s, but at some point bars became places to gamble, under the guise of "charitable gambling," at least here in Minnesota. It's amazing how many bars host a pull-tab operation, which pays rent for its space within the bar, and an hourly wage to employees, all in an effort to make money for a nonprofit entity. 

Pull tabs are basically slot machine games played with small cardboard game pieces. (I have no idea how prevalent pull tabs are nationwide, but I assume plenty of states have them in their bars.) In the past few years pull tab proprietors in Minnesota have been able to offer the games electronically, using a tablet that players are given at the time of their purchase. 

Pull tab gaming seems to be profitable at many bars across Minnesota, even though the games seem to offer less than spectacular odds for the player. 

All of those things have made gambling a part of life in the Midwest, but as we know, the expansion of the casino industry across the United States has provided many of us from coast to coast with a taste of Vegas, sans the airfare.

In Minnesota we have plenty of tribal-owned casinos scattered across the state. Most of us live within one hour of a casino. They emerged in the early 1990s, much like other tribal casinos across the country. Minnesota doesn't allow our casinos to offer live craps or roulette, but you can get those in our neighboring states, for they have casinos, too. (I'm too lazy to research if the casinos in our neighboring states are all tribal entities. I get a sense the answer is "no" in Iowa.)

Once upon a time playing casino blackjack was a privilege, one frequently enjoyed in Vegas. I've been to casinos in California, Mississippi, Louisiana, Ohio, Iowa, Missouri and Wisconsin, and in some cases my appearance was simply because it was convenient to drop in and survey the scene, not because I had an itch to gamble. I ate at the Hollywood Casino in Toledo, Ohio, and never gambled a dime.

Three of the six points Bob wrote about above were diminished gaming conditions in Vegas. You'd think that Vegas would want to be offer better gaming odds to attract people who can opt instead to spend a weekend at a fancy tribal casino closer to home and save the cost of airfare. But better odds aren't enough to trump the tribal casinos, evidently, so instead of offering better odds to Vegas visitors, the tourist casinos are looking at how to squeeze more out of every dollar wagered, any little way they can. The casinos are no different than most other American businesses. When your profits start to decrease, find ways to make it up, be it at the expense of your customers or your employees.

The expansion of the casino industry, and other forms of gambling, denied future generations the thrill of Vegas, at least when it comes to winning or losing your paycheck.

Plenty of people come to Vegas for conventions, sightseeing and hedonistic ambitions, and plenty of those people will gamble. But reports over the years have illustrated how the gaming portion of the casinos is now part of a multi-faceted effort to turn a profit. Gaming is no longer king, and rather than make gambling more enticing with better odds, the casinos have finally accepted that they're attracting customers who grew up with casinos in their backyards, and don't get the same thrill their parents or grandparents got from a trip to Vegas.

Enough people don't care, or know better, so they accept 6:5 blackjack or reduced video poker pay tables. And those reduced payouts are due, in part, to the fact that the casino industry is now raising generations of gamblers across the country.

Vegas has lost its luster as a gambling mecca, and the deteriorating conditions we see today are a result of that.

As for resort fees, that's obviously the result of the Internet. As has been discussed many times in the online world, resort fees are a shell game the casinos play in order to minimize the commissions paid to third-party booking services.

Regarding the other points Smith made, about parking and other fees, those go hand-in-hand with diminished gambling conditions. They're ways to squeeze more cash out of the tourist.

I'm not sure how many casinos around the United States charge for parking, but I'm guessing many don't. Casinos located in downtown districts, such as New Orleans and St. Louis, might not have free parking because the real estate is expensive and in high demand. But you won't find a casino or race track in Minnesota that charges for general parking. They may charge for valet parking, but free parking is still the norm.

Will people stop going to Vegas because of the cost of parking? Heck no. Some will change their plans because of the cost of parking, but no particular fee is likely to drive people away. Give people enough reasons and they'll throw in the towel, but new generations are awaiting their turn at the adult playground, and they won't scoff at throwing away a portion of that disposable income for a parking space, especially those who have $1,000 or more budgets for their weekend at the ultra lounges.

How would Vegas be different today if our country had never gone casino crazy and had never given tribes the keys to the casino industry? (It's not quite that simple, but we'll leave it at that for now.) If the gambling landscape of 2016 was similar to the landscape of 1976, would Vegas casinos be turning the screws on its gamblers and hotel guests?

Perhaps, but not to the degree we see today. Our nation's love affair with gambling has taken something from Vegas that Vegas will never get back: cachet.

Book review: From the outside, looking in

As you might expect, "The Outsiders' Guide to Las Vegas" is not your mother's guidebook.

My first trip to Vegas was in January 1997. If it wasn't in preparation for that trip then it wasn't long after that first trip that I obtained a copy of a traditional visitors guide. I might still have it, although I'm betting I donated it to some sort of used book sale, because who doesn't want to read buffet reviews from 10 years ago, capturing the magic of the dearly departed Riviera buffet?

I lost count of how many times I've been to Vegas over the years, but I'm quite confident the total is more than 30 after nearly 20 years. The last thing I need to read is a visitors guide for Sin City.

But a year ago, when I started this blog, I checked out online Vegas resources that I hadn't given much time to, including "Five Hundy by Midnight," a longtime podcast that I had seen references to over the years, but had never attempted to dial up. (Do you dial up the internet?)

As I sampled the podcast I learned of its forthcoming guide book. It took me many months to finally pick one up, but given I regularly sample the podcast offerings I wanted to read what Tim Dressen, the show's co-host, would include in a guidebook about Vegas. Over a recent span of 10 days I did just that.

The book is very much in the style of the podcast, a bit irreverent and written for an audience you're more likely to find congregating at a local watering hole than in the library at an institution of higher learning. And really, isn't the former where you'd expect, and want, to find people discussing Vegas?

Dressen's book offers many recommendations and observations similar to those you will find from year to year within the traditional guidebooks, but it pulls no punches when it comes to critiquing what succeeds and fails in Vegas. The book leans heavily on the personal experiences of the author, but there's some indication that information compiled within its covers is also drawn from the feedback and experience of the thousands who listen to the podcast.

If you want to know the skinny on the hotels along the strip and downtown, you'll find it in Dressen's book. If you want to know about a variety of restaurants, that information is included, too.

But many of the opinions and recommendations of the author are colored with his personality, which you find little of in other guidebooks.

Few stones are left unturned by the end of the book. Dressen provides recommendations on how to go about planning a trip and things to avoid when doing so. He has his personal preferences when traveling to Vegas and a rationale for them. It doesn't matter to Dressen how delicious breakfast is at a quirky, unique restaurant 13 minutes by cab from downtown Vegas, Dressen isn't going there, and he explains why. I have different ideas about how I want to spend my time in Vegas, but Dressen gives good reasons for why he prefers to do things the way he does, and those give the reader something to think about.

Did I learn a few things I didn't know about Vegas by reading the book? Absolutely. Vegas is constantly changing, and no matter how much you read about Sin City or how often you visit, chances are there are a few things, trivial or significant, that you don't know or know about. My jaw never hit the floor while reading the book, but I learned plenty of tidbits that might be useful down the road. And I learned that the Forum Shops at Caesars has a spiral escalator.

As I noted, this is not your mother's guidebook. Therefore I'm not giving a copy to my mother for Christmas. Besides the fact she has no interest in going to Vegas, I don't think she'd appreciate the graphic descriptions under "strategic restroom planning." But it was reassuring to know I'm not the only person who thinks about such things.

Dressen has a few "editorials," for lack of a better term, about things he likes or doesn't like about Vegas, or the world in general. Did you know that audience participation is ruining the world? You will if you read his book.

No book can include everything, and this book is no exception. When it comes to reviewing off-strip casinos, several are critiqued, but not all of them. I'd be curious to know what Dressen likes and dislikes about the Orleans, one of my regular haunts. What he likes or doesn't like won't change my personal preferences, but it would be interesting to read. It's a major property, not far from the strip, but it didn't make the cut. I'd guess that other than favorable gaming conditions he isn't particularly dazzled by the property.

His review of south strip hotels didn't include the former San Remo, now known as Hooters. I haven't been in that building since its days as the San Remo, and most comments about it are less than glowing. I couldn't help but wonder how Dressen might skewer the property, but that didn't make the book, either.

The book has plenty of pictures, but they're small and are of little value. The book isn't intended to provide a visual guide to Sin City's casinos, but the small, black-and-white pictures don't have a lot to offer in many cases, and the book would be just as valuable without them. But they do help break up the copy visually, and that's often a psychological selling point to many readers.

I'm an unapologetic supporter of pinball, and every trip I make to Vegas includes at least one visit to the Pinball Hall of Fame, one of many unique off-strip attractions. I was pleased to see it made Dressen's guidebook. I'll gladly take a plug for pinball over a critique of the Orleans or Hooters.

Change is the only constant in Vegas, and Dressen's website for his book attempts to update information that has become outdated since last summer – such as the closure of Las Vegas Club – although no updates have been reported since January, and certainly some tidbit of information within the book has changed since then. Nonetheless it's a smart way to keep the book relevant, but it begs the question, will we start seeing updated versions of the book annually? There's no "2015" on Dressen's book, but now that the framework is in place, might we see periodic updates with new information and observations?

The outsiders' guide is a lot like reading reviews from Trip Advisor or other online sources. It represents what people think, not what a major publisher is willing to parrot on an annual basis. Unlike a user-driven website, Dressen's book is highly organized and easy to navigate.

It's a great book if you're a Vegas veteran like me and want to read Vegas opinions while staring at something other than a tablet or computer screen, (although you can certainly get a paperless version of the book should you so desire.) And it provides a lot of great advice for Vegas newbies who want to know if there's a great restaurant at their home base during their next trip, the Flamingo. (There's not.)

The book is $19 and available wherever Amazon is accessible via your tablet or smartphone. It won't change your life, but it won't ruin it, either. And it will entertain you for hours, unless you're my mother.

Remembering the Riviera

One year ago today was a Monday, and at noon Vegas time the Riviera closed its doors, ending its 60-year run on the north end of the strip.

The following pictures were foolishly taken with my cell phone rather than with a legitimate digital camera. I tweeted a few pics while at the Riv during its closing, but I should have been taking pictures with a quality camera, too. Lesson learned.

Many of these have never been shared anywhere. Happy anniversary, I guess.

That's all, folks!

A historic display inside the Riviera to commemorate its 60-year history.

The last night the bronze "Crazy Girls" art installation graced the facade of the Riviera.

The lights were shining bright during the casino's final night in operation, May 3.

Simplistic, yet colorful and fun, that was the neon outside the Riviera.

It's the 21st century, yet many people needed to check out the old-fashioned way on Monday morning, May 4.

The tables were full on Sunday night, yet all of them were closed during the final morning of the casino's operation, much to my disappoint. 

A final morning visitor stands inside the "secret pool" at the Riviera. Unfamiliar with the pool? A Google search will lead you to stories about it.

Sam, at right, was working for the former Vegas Chatter that day, and served as a de facto historian about the Riviera. 

Another look at the outdoor pool that was never used. As the story goes, the pool leaked into the casino. 

Sam's work can now be found on the Vegas Bright website.

Removing the "Crazy Girls" installation couldn't wait until after the casino had closed.

The statue, if that's what you call it, is reported to weigh hundreds of pounds.

The "Crazy Girls" show and its statue found a new home at Planet Hollywood.

Live reports outside the Las Vegas Boulevard entrance were common during the final hours of the Riviera.

One of the Spanish language networks reported from the closing and interviewed spectators.

Even before the property officially closed maintenance workers were fencing off the pool area. Did they fear protestors were going to jump in?

Whatever be the reason, several $1 bills were on the bottom of the pool. You know it's an old pool when it's more than 5 feet deep.

Inside the casino you could have your picture taken with an old sign. 

Closed long before the casino was shuttered, the second-floor buffet area looked like it either recently closed down or was ready to open for business. Little had been done to gut it since its closure. I didn't walk into the kitchen, but had I done so, I'm sure I would have found pots, pans and everything needed to serve breakfast to the masses.

The bubble craps game was a popular draw during the final morning at the Riviera. The game was still going past the noon closing, and a manager had to declare a point in the roll where players were obligated to cash out.  

The table games were packed on Sunday night, but none of them were in operation on the final morning at the Riviera. Many people posed for pictures that morning while standing in the dealer's position.

And away goes the statue.

As security officers were ushering people toward the back of the property, (the Las Vegas Boulevard doors had been locked,) a maintenance worker begins shutting down slot machines.

As people were heading toward the rear exit of the hotel, a few players stubbornly sat at slot machines several minutes past noon, trying to score one last win.

This anniversary display appears to be damaged, but plenty of people stopped for a picture in front of it nonetheless.

Nobody told local cab drivers that the Riviera was closing that morning, as there were many people, luggage in tow, waiting for a taxi on the back side of the property, facing the parking ramp, minutes after the noon closing.

The casino's sign on the back side of the property, along Paradise Road, says thank you to its patrons.

Viva Las Vegas?

I spent Wednesday afternoon here in Minnesota attending a live broadcast of a local talk show. On this particular day the show was being broadcast from Mystic Lake, a huge Native American casino in the Twin Cities area.

The casino broadcast was part of a big promotion Mystic Lake is doing right now, which features the awarding of numerous trips to Las Vegas. Those of us attending today's broadcast of the talk show had a chance to win a trip to Vegas. Five nights at Palazzo and $5,000. Nice prize, eh?

I didn't win. Dream of a trip to Vegas this spring is dead once again.

The show featured a variety of Vegas-related segments, and the set had plenty of Vegas decor.

The show also featured a pretty good Elvis impersonator, Anthony Shore. It was pointed out to us that you can't have a Vegas-themed show without an Elvis impersonator.

And it made me wonder why that is.

While I'm not an Elvis in Vegas historian, I realize he had a good run at the end of his life as a fixture in Vegas, performing at the former Las Vegas Hilton when he wasn't touring the country. He came to Minnesota a couple of times, at least, in the 1970s, from what I could tell doing 60 seconds of research.

Given his unique look and style, and his years in Vegas, it's not a surprise that imitation of "The King" has been a part of the Vegas fabric over the years.

But the guy has been dead for nearly 40 years. Why do we still have impersonators performing in Vegas lounges these days? No, it's not very common these days, but it happens. So do weddings performed by an Elvis impersonator, I've been told repeatedly.

Elvis impersonators aren't a fixture of the Vegas entertainment scene these days, and his music will endure long after all of us take a dirt nap, but it does seem odd to me that in 2016 the Vegas/Elvis cliche remains.

I think one of the reasons why Elvis still gets some love in Vegas is that his music, look and style are so distinct.

Sinatra was huge, and plenty of people can likely rattle off a bunch of his tunes. But I'll bet a random survey of adults 18-49 would demonstrate a lot more familiarity with the music of Elvis over the music of "Ol' Blue Eyes."

While I can picture Sinatra, his look and style don't stand out like that of Elvis. That helps the legend live on, without a doubt.

You can't forget the past, but Vegas makes a habit of reinventing itself. Yeah, older properties such as Lady Luck downtown and Sahara on the strip were revitalized without demolition, but tearing down and building new is seemingly essential in Vegas.

Wayne Newton seems to have no problem resurfacing from decade to decade, but Vegas doesn't have much time for old-timers these days. That's what Branson, Missouri, is for.

In a city that seems to demand fresh, new and exciting on a weekly basis, it's a bit of a surprise that there's still an affection for Elvis nearly 40 years after his death.

Britney Spears and Celine Dion should be so lucky.

Is Derek Stevens the worst thing to happen to Las Vegas?

Last week I was minding my own business late one evening when vitalvegas.com broke the news that the brothers Stevens were buying three small properties under the canopy of the Fremont Street Experience. I had better things to do, yet I stopped everything I was doing to type my reaction to the news.

The Stevens brothers own The D and Golden Gate, two very different casino/hotel properties in downtown Las Vegas. Last year they purchased the fledgling Vegas Club, a dying casino that had been all but gutted. The hotel towers had been shuttered for a couple of years and the retail and dining portions of the building were vacant at the time of the purchase. With the Stevens brothers purchasing the Vegas Club it was time to nail that coffin shut. We collectively await the future of the property. Given their past success, expectations for Vegas Club are high, and rightfully so. The lads know what they're doing.

Although I periodically hear references to Derek and Greg Stevens, it's Derek that's the face of the operation. Derek is pictured in D promotions, he is known to hang out and mingle with D customers and he doesn't shy away from the media. As I type this I'm listening to him talk about his latest acquisitions on the Vital Vegas podcast.

As the podcast reiterates, Derek is not a faceless Fremont Street casino owner. I think that's pretty cool. Most casinos are owned by corporations, and their customers are unable to put a face or name to the casino's ownership. The only other 2016 casino mogul who comes to mind off the top of my head is Steve Wynn. (I don't think Sheldon Adelson has that much street cred.)

But being the name and the face of a casino, or a group of casinos, comes at a price.

The internet reaction to last week's acquisition news was hot and heavy. The Stevens brothers purchased two small casino properties last week, as well as the only strip club in downtown Las Vegas, Glitter Gulch. The businesses they purchased are adjacent to Golden Gate and the former Vegas Club properties. (There's a souvenir shop sandwiched between the acquisitions on the Vegas Club side of Fremont, people have noted.)

There wasn't much excitement about the acquisitions, as it doesn't appear that anybody was rooting for either casino to shut down. But that's the plan for all three businesses.

On the Golden Gate side is La Bayou, which is best known for its cheap gut-rot daiquiris. On the Vegas Club side is Mermaids, which is known for its cheap eats, including odd deep-fried foods.

Both casinos are small slot machine rooms, there are no table games. The loss of the gaming along Fremont Street isn't a big deal. There are thousands of machines to choose from up and down Fremont.

While I said there wasn't much excitement regarding the acquisition news, that doesn't mean everybody was sad to learn of the impending closing of the businesses. Plenty of people couldn't care less that two colorful, quirky casinos are closing down. The gaming, daiquiris and deep-fried Twinkies offered by the properties are of no appeal to plenty of people, so the loss of the game rooms doesn't affect them at all. And plenty of people said so via Facebook discussions, Vital Vegas comments and news report comments.

There is a faction of Vegas fanatics that welcomes anything the Stevens brothers do with any property downtown, as they are confident that properties under their thumb will be put to higher and better uses.

I wrote within an hour of the news breaking that I was saddened by the loss of the small, quirky properties that help give Fremont Street its colorful character. Even though I am confident the Stevens brothers will hit another home run, that doesn't stop me from being sad.

And I'm not the only one. Plenty of people proclaimed that their downtown Vegas experience is being ruined.

It seems that there are two things people love about the small game rooms. Some people love them because the complimentary cocktails for gamblers come fast and furious. If you sit down at a machine and insert $20 you'll receive more than your share of drinks in short order, I've read.

Others really love the cheap, low-fat snacks served at Mermaids. There are cheap eats to be had downtown, but the grub at Mermaids is about as cheap as it comes.

Yeah, people are bummed out about the impending closures for a few reasons. Some accept it as part of the inevitable change that defines Vegas. Others, however, are convinced that Derek Stevens, specifically, is the spawn of Satan. Perhaps the brothers are twins. Derek is clearly the evil twin, therefore Greg by definition must be the good one.

Derek is a bloodthirsty throwback to the days of mob rule, aiming to drive up prices along Fremont Street at all costs, and bleed every dollar he can out of its tourists. He is single-handedly ruining downtown Las Vegas by trying to win a real life game of Monopoly. He's ruining downtown, absolutely destroying it, some have proclaimed.

Those folks are probably right.

You have to believe that buying a major casino like The D, formerly Fitzgeralds, and pouring cash into its upgrade, renovation and rebranding was driven by a desire to bleed and/or drive away those who have enjoyed downtown during the past decade.

And we all know that when you invest in a property you should never invest in its improvement. The goal should be to squeeze every drop out of the oranges you have purchased, allowing the property to deteriorate, then sell it for less than you paid years earlier.

Sarcasm aside, I've stayed at The D. I'm not a high roller, yet I have stayed there a couple of times. The property is in good shape and the rates have been very reasonable. And that's before taking advantage of offers I've received as a member of the casino's players club. It has been a couple of years since I last stayed there, so perhaps the deals of the past are now ghosts, but I've found The D to be an inviting property, and not one designed to siphon cash out of my pocket. You get what you pay for, and more.

Nobody wants to be the low-rent, rundown casino on the block. But those are the casinos that are ripe for the picking, and if you have a healthy checkbook when you buy them, you can invest in a much more prosperous future, should you so desire. The Stevens boys clearly set out to do so when they make a purchase, and that doesn't make them public enemy No. 1 in my book.

Do the brothers need to purchase ancillary properties such as Mermaids and La Bayou to succeed? No, they don't, but they're in a position to do so, and if the loss of those colorful, goofy game rooms is the price visitors pay for the success the Stevens brothers have reaped, that's the way it goes. Fremont Street will not be ruined for everyone as a result of the acquisitions, only for those who proclaim it via the internet.

I'm saddened by the loss of the last of the small game rooms on Fremont Street, but I'm expecting bigger and better things to come from their demise. Derek Stevens is catching a lot of bricks from plenty of people, but I'll toss a bouquet his direction. He's investing in downtown rather than maintaining the status quo. And he is far from monopolizing the casino scene along Fremont Street. He couldn't ruin downtown if he tried, despite what the naysayers will tell you.

And despite all those who bemoan his negative effects upon downtown, I have yet to read one comment bemoaning the loss of Glitter Gulch. Every comment from anyone who has ever visited that strip club oozes with regret.

Congratulations Derek, you did OK.

Can we have a jazz funeral for La Bayou?

It's not quite as big of a deal as the closing of Riviera, or even the Las Vegas Club, yet somehow it feels like it to me.

I hadn't planned to take a four-month sabattical from this blog – and I have no shortage of ideas I'd like to write about – but here I am, shortly before 1 a.m. here in Minnesota typing my first entry in months, and it's about the closing of three insignificant properties under the canopy of the Fremont Street Experience.

I just stumbled upon the news moments ago, courtesy of Vital Vegas, one of my regular go-to sources for Vegas information. Within the past hour the Vital Vegas guru, who by day works for the Fremont Street Experience, reported that Derek Stevens, the face of The D and Golden Gate casinos, has purchased three downtown businesses, and presumably the property upon which they sit. Stevens and his brother, who seems to shun the limelight, are the owners of Mermaids and La Bayou, two slots only game rooms, and Glitter Gulch, the downtown strip club.

As Vital Vegas nicely explains, these businesses – which I presume have been under the same ownership prior to Stevens' purchase – are strategically beneficial to the growing Stevens empire. La Bayou is adjacent to Golden Gate, the smaller casino owned by the brothers Stevens, and Mermaids and Glitter Gulch are next to the shuttered Las Vegas Club, which the Stevens own and plan to redevelop.

The Stevens boys run excellent casinos, and their acquisition of the sickly Vegas Club ensures they'll turn the tired old property into a successful downtown hotspot when all is said and done. The acquisition of the small casinos and the strip club will help them grow the Golden Gate and presumably create a much larger frontage for the new Vegas Club development.

And yet I'm saddened by this.

There was nothing extraordinary about La Bayou or Mermaids. I'm pretty sure both have been re-imagined since my first visit downtown more than 19 years ago. La Bayou is smaller than some of the gift shops on Fremont Street, and I don't go there to gamble. But it has a fun, colorful theme and sells all those fancy daiquiris that people covet when in New Orleans.

Mermaids has a larger gaming floor, comparable to the larger gift shops on Fremont, and its quirky draw is its weird, cheap food.

Years ago I could find all sorts of odd, cheap eats along the strip. The days of the half-pound hot dog and cheap strawberry shortcake seem to be over. Mermaids offered a few wacky, relatively cheap eats that were fun to indulge in when you were in Vegas. And I enjoyed its colorful facade.

According to Vital Vegas, it is expected both of those game rooms, and the strip club, will be out of business in about two months.

I've wondered why there's a strip club on Fremont, and only one. I suspect that its existence is a result of some quirky legal manuever in the past that grandfathered it in, but I've never asked. I won't miss it, but I always appreciated the "Golden Goose" and "Glitter Gulch" neon signs above the building.

Change is constant in Vegas, and I've seen plenty of it in the Fremont area over the years. A lot of it has been for the better, no doubt. But losing a few unique, small businesses saddens me. I liked the colorful diversity of those little businesses. Yeah, there are a million slot machines in the greater Vegas area, and plenty downtown, but when the property acquired by the Stevens' is absorbed by their larger holdings, we'll likely never see cute little game rooms juxtaposed with big downtown casinos ever again.

We bemoan the loss of local, independent, mom-and-pop businesses in towns across America. When Walmart moves into an area, there's a certain amount of dread that comes with it, because the mighty retailer will put nails in the coffins of at least a few local businesses.

Nobody would compare the Stevens to the Waltons, but the Stevens empire is having a similar affect upon the Fremont district, even if the Stevens are building Targets instead of Walmarts.

The three shuttering businesses may not evoke the same emotion as the Riviera's closing did a year ago, but their existence were the last connections we had to the smaller, simpler casinos of yesteryear.

Drink locally

I enjoyed a little local flavor during my last visit to Vegas. During one evening we took the BMW convertible to a tap room on Main Street called Hop Nuts Brewing.

It's on Main Street, just south of Charleston Boulevard. That means it's not a quick, easy to access tap room from either downtown or the Stratosphere. It's not miles away, it's just not located in a high density pedestrian district. 

I learned about Hop Nuts prior to our trip when I was using one of the major discount websites to purchase discount tickets for the High Roller. I saw a deal for Hop Nuts, and decided that with the bonus discount the website was offering that day, $16 for two flights and two souvenir pint glasses was worth an investment. 

Hop Nuts is not a fancy tap room, but it's a tap room. There's nothing dingy about it, but it's not swanky. It's near the arts district, and I'm sure it gets its share of traffic, but on a Wednesday evening, not long after the dinner hour, it was not super busy. 

They don't have a huge production facility, but they do brew their beers on site. They had several, and our flights provided us with five decent-size samples of their brews. Our bartender was helpful and friendly, making our visit very enjoyable. 

I am not a critic, especially when it comes to food and drink, so I can't paint a word picture of what was good or bad about their beers. All I will say is that they have distinct brews in several different styles, and I didn't fall in love with any that I had sampled, but I didn't find them to be displeasing. Their uniqueness and character weren't to my personal preference, or to my girlfriend's, but you're getting a quality product that may be more to your liking than mine. 

What makes Hop Nuts different than the tap rooms I am familiar with here in Minnesota is that Hop Nuts has guest beers. They carry taps of brews from other craft brewers in the area or region. (I forget how far away they recruit such product.) Those guest brews are not available through the beer flight voucher I had purchased, but if you're a regular paying customer, they have other options on tap. 

And they have a liquor license, something else I haven't run into at a Minnesota tap room. If you have a member of your party who just doesn't enjoy beer, he or she can enjoy an alternative beverage during a visit to Hop Nuts. Pretty cool.

Hop Nuts doesn't have food service, but they have menus of nearby restaurants that will deliver to you there at the tap room. 

If you're a beer connoisseur, look them up, you might find something you love. If nothing else you'll find a place to get away from the hustle and bustle of the tourist scene.

The following night we finally visited Frankie's Tiki Room, a longtime favorite hangout of folks who like a tourist trap away from the strip and downtown. 

I refer to it as a tourist trap, but it's a nice place, and worth the visit. It's exactly what you expect from a tiki bar, lots of bamboo carvings and kitschy decorations. The place is open 24 hours, every day. And if they serve anything other than exotic mixed drinks, it's news to me. I'm sure they do, but you go to this place for the atmosphere and the unique drinks, not a bottle of light beer. (There's no food service here, either.)

My girlfriend and I each had one mixed drink, $9 each. It was a fair price for a mixed drink with multiple ingredients, and the atmosphere is hard to beat. There wasn't much of a crowd during our Thursday night visit, and I couldn't help but wonder who is in that place at 6 a.m. on a weekday morning. Somebody must be. 

The building is colorful on the outside, so it's hard to miss. It's not far down Charleston Boulevard from Main Street. I wouldn't call it a must-see destination, and again, you won't be walking to it, but it's worth a visit. I'm sure I'll be back there some day.

I decided to fill up our gas tank at the gas station next door when we left Frankie's, and my girlfriend decided to take a few pictures of the outside of Frankie's. A dude approached her and asked her if she wanted to buy a pair of men's leather high-top shoes. Only in Vegas.