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AUDIO-MP3 Las
Vegas 2002 |
 Ceiling at the Bellagio - Dale Chihuly Glass Photo-R.Johnson
The Secret Life of Flamingos Bikini Bull Riding and $9.98 baby back ribs are leftover Las Vegas too. (Why would you want to see a bull in a bikini, anyhow?) But some of the attractions of more recent times are morphing into a new ethos. Treasure Island has been rebranded as TI, actually now more like T&A. The Bellagio, whose fountains spurted to Rat Pack records, now gush with twangy patriotism: "Proud to be American" stuff while "old Europe's" Eiffel Tower sniffs at this Yankee jingoism from across the street. The economy and the shortage of ferenghi tourists have made it hard-sell time in Las Vegas. And what sells most of all? Of course: Las Vegas' advertising slogan is "What Happens Here, Stays Here" (unless, of course, you get arrested for it). Walk by the Las Vegas Convention Center and you'll pass a line of migrant porn-peddlers slapping "wanna have a good time" brochures and trying to jam them in your pockets. Get off the main strip and you'll find characters that would inspire Bertholdt Brecht: Las Vegas has a rich indigenous culture. But Vegas still has lots to offer including spectacular shows, even though they are now skewing to the risqué as in Cirque de Soliel's new production Zumanity, where acrobats have become "sensualists". One of the best shows in town, however, is G-rated and free. The Rio Hotel, a bit off the beaten track, has a lively, noisy casino with clowns and Carnival characters juggling about the floor while a Mardi Gras parade of dancers in floats shaped like ships and hot air balloons circumnavigates the ceiling. It is not exactly Brazil as the music is more pop and disco than sensuous Latin, but it is grand spectacle. A restaurant called Buzios isn't exactly representative of the real Buzios either. Seeing the name of this Brazilian seaside village, which I have visited, gave me a hankering from some nicely-spiced moqueqe de pesche (literally fish soup). That was not to be found, but Buzios was a reasonably priced restaurant where I sampled a delicious Wasabi and potato encrusted Ahi Tuna on a ginger sabayon with soy butter and tomato (a mouthful with a better ring to it than fish soup). Las Vegas is its own professionally managed reality. Paris isn't Paris, The Venetian isn't Venice, Rio isn't Rio. But don't sniff, enjoy it for what it is. When we complimented a waitress at Buzios, she replied that she had worked there for fifteen years, since the hotel opened, and that employees were hired for people skills, not restaurant experience. And, how many towns do you know of that have a University (UNLV) dedicated to hospitality? Getting a degree in being nice seems an attractive proposition. So, despite the sleazy ad campaign, Las Vegas can still be what you want it to be. You still see kids walking the strip with their parents, there are still some nickel slot machines, you can still gorge yourself on a BLT at the 60's throwback Peppermill, have a Martini the size of Lake Mead at Pieros or walk around Bugsy's old haunts amidst palm fronds, pink flamingos and whoever is buried in the garden.
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Admit
it, flamingos, pink as Pepto Bismol, work in certain decors. You wouldn't
want a flock of rusty ones on your lawn, but in Las Vegas, they fit
quite well strutting about the garden of the old Flamingo Hotel, as
do live penguins and a monument to Bugsy Segal, the wise guy who built
the place. The Flamingo is old Vegas, a bit tatty in places, but nicely
spruced up with comfortable large rooms. Some of Bugsy's guests may
have met gruesome ends but they probably drank good gin and smoked good
cigars before they were "taken to the desert" a Vegas euphemism
for being whacked.
