Viva Las Eighties
I just got back from a short visit, and I was amazed at what I uncovered. First, of course, there's this very trendy "weiner" shirt. It just beckoned me inside one of the otherwise nondescript tourist souvenir shops. I thought: "Brilliant! It'd make a great prize for future Name that 80s Tune and Mystery Movie Moment segments."
Then I saw the $30 price tag and decided against it. But don't lose faith. There's more.
THE MUSIC: Standing at a urinal in tears after blowing $90 in 3 minutes, what music is playing in Harrah's restroom? "Enola Gay" by OMD. Yeah, I should have stayed at home -- or least away from the crap tables -- yesterday too.
THE FAKES: Go see any impersonator show (there are dozens to choose from). Guess which performers get the biggest howls from the audience: Madonna, Prince and Michael Jackson. And I know this will just sound like bashing, but Madonna's impersonator was more attractive and sounded better than the real thing -- at least her British accent sounded real.
THE DEALERS: At least one casino, the Imperial Palace, hasCelebrity Lookalike Dealers. At least I hope that isn't the real Billy Idol dealing cards there. In the midnight hour, he cried blackjack, blackjack, blackjack!
THE SHOWS: Last time I was here, Sheena Easton was playing the Hilton. But unless Lynn-Holly Johnson was sitting on my lap while Sheena sang "For Your Eyes Only" for two straight hours, I wasn't interested. This visit: No '80s acts camped out here at all! I'd like to think that's because they're still raking it in on the regular tour circuit -- and not because Englebert Humperdinck makes for a better draw than Rick Springfield.
THE DRINKS: After enjoying a few Romulan Ales for breakfast (beer with blue food coloring) at one hotel, it's always nice to find some Bryan Brown wannabe who'll juggle the bottles around "Cocktail" style before making me a Red Eye. The only thing missing in Vegas -- Elizabeth Shue naked by a pool waterfall. But there's always next year.