For most, including those of us who now live here, Las Vegas started out as a fantasy land.
Las Vegas was a giant amusement park for adults where you played long and partied harder, and slept as little as humanly possible. Given the typical Vegas vacation was perhaps 3 or 4 days, at most, we didn’t want to waste any precious time napping when instead we could be down in the casino gambling at the tables, seeing extravagant shows that were also ridiculously affordable, or feasting on $2.99 all-you-can-eat buffets, often comped. There was plenty of time to sleep when we returned home. Las Vegas was about staying up all day and all night, and maximizing the total vacation experience.
Back then, Las Vegas’ colossal appeal was that it was so very different from anyplace else. The intense desert heat, the wide open spaces, the world-class entertainment everywhere you looked, the free drinks delivered around the clock by sexy cocktail waitresses, the cheap food, and of course — the gambling was an overwhelming assault on the senses that was impossible to resist. Other than Atlantic City, there was no other place that was quite like it, and Atlantic City didn’t really compare because it was always such a dump. Las Vegas was a shiny neon-lit Disneyland out in the desert, even more memorable and economical than any kiddie park.
Perhaps most remarkably, even though we usually lost money — sometimes every cent in our pockets — we always thought we got our money’s worth, and then some. We couldn’t wait to come back. On my first visit ever to Las Vegas as an adult about 30 years ago, I arrived on a paid junket to the Flamingo Hilton with $200 in my pocket budgeted for gambling and shows and that somehow lasted me three full days. Now, that same $200 would be devoured by a video poker machine in about 15 minutes.
Today, one doesn’t get the same feeling about visitors coming to Las Vegas and the way they look upon the scene that was once so stimulating. They don’t seem to view the Vegas experience the way we once did. Perhaps that’s because there just aren’t as many first-time visitors now, and with so much familiarity with what’s expected also comes some measure of tedium, even boredom perhaps. But it can’t simply be that the average visitor has changed, even though the typical millennial tourist is now far more interested in going to a trendy nightclub and paying $20 for shot of Grey Goose than playing a hand of blackjack. In fact, Las Vegas has changed. Moreover, society has changed.
A few nights ago, I was at dinner with a close friend who used to live here in Las Vegas, but decided to relocate and eventually retire to Florida. I inquired about how he now views returning to Las Vegas after living here for some time. In other words, can one get that old magical feeling back again? Can we fall in love a second time with someone or something which lacks mystery? Can we ever recapture the essence of our childhood when Disneyland for all its wonder seemed to be the most amazing place on earth? It’s a difficult question to ponder, which in this admittedly tiny sample size, produced no satisfying answer.
If Las Vegas’ luster has faded, it’s likely due to a junction of unrestrainable forces. First, Las Vegas is becoming like everyplace else. Second, everyplace else is becoming like Las Vegas. Maneuvering along Las Vegas Blvd. on any given day, playing dodge ball through hoards of tourists zig-zagging from casino to casino, much of The Strip resembles a giant shopping mall. The same Banana Republics, and Sephoras, and California Pizza Kitchens, and Starbucks that you’ll find at the Mall of America or the Galleria are in every retail outlet attached to just about every major casino. Standing in the midst of it all, you can’t tell of you’re in Las Vegas, Charlotte, or Denver.
Then, there’s everyplace else becoming increasingly like Las Vegas, which means the proliferation of casino gambling all across America over the past two decades. This is mostly a good thing purely in terms of personal freedom and enterprise, because a majority of people in this country like to gamble. But three-quarters of the U.S. population now living within driving distance of a casino makes for senses that are already saturated and have little enthusiasm left if and when they ever decide to visit Las Vegas. Sorry, but the MGM Grand really doesn’t look all that impressive if you’ve already been to Mohegan Sun or Cherokee twenty times.
Here in Las Vegas, the Global Gaming Expo starts today (known as “G2E,” for short), which is the world’s biggest convention of all things gambling and casino related. Anyone and everyone connected in any way to the gambling industry attends this three-day expo, where there are entire football fields under one roof loaded with just about every product, service, or gambling device you can possibly conceive of. Looked upon in terms of size, the G2E experience is mind-boggling, almost too much to take in and absorb in a city already packed with plenty of sensory distractions. Yet, it’s also row upon row of repetition, of utter sameness. After a while, the duplication becomes depressing. One new slot machine after another after another which pursued with even a crumb of curiosity will quickly morph into boredom, usually within about 15 minutes.
Much like the city that was once its epicenter and the industry which expanded to a majority of states and scores of international markets, the gambling business is now a numbers game that’s no different from an insurance company or a bank. It’s run by people wearing $169 suits who graduated from business school who couldn’t explain the difference between a “Don’t Pass” wager and a “Teaser” bet. Beholden to the temple of shareholders and no one but shareholders, for those are the gambling gods now, casinos are little more than a money mill, intended to separate you from your wallet or pocketbook from the moment you enter — at the front desk, in the restaurants, in the gift shop, and certainly at the gambling tables which constantly try to squeeze the margins. And if you happen to get unlucky and run out of money, there’s always an alluring ATM machine nearby. And once that’s tapped out, there’s even the cash advance option. Whatever it takes to meet the corporate-driven corporate projections, or as we’ve see most recently, to pay off the debt — that’s the business plan.
Perhaps Las Vegas was always a fantasy, which means it was never real. Maybe we were fooled into thinking we were special when we came to town, when it was all just an illusion. Even so, illusions can still be fun. Dreams are both authentic and meaningful to those who experience them.
Las Vegas and the casino gambling industry both have a problematic future ahead. In the next few days, as I attend several seminars and meetings here at G2E, I expect to write in some detail about these challenges, and potentially the solutions, as well.
TAG: Nolan Dalla writings