1. A few things that should have succeeded

High End Mystery Emporium

Started by a handful of guys from Las Vegas vinyl villains the Bargain DJ Collective in August 2006, the High End Mystery Emporium was supposed to be the birthplace of a new era in the Downtown arts scene.

Beyond its impressive selection of vinyl, art, old record players, stereo equipment and cheesy furniture from the late ’70s, the High End drew a different crowd Downtown, the sort of people you were more likely to find at the Double Down. But an electrical fire in the roof, along with disagreements with the landlord, doomed the Emporium, which closed in November after just three months. Bummer. –Aaron Thompson

Fremont Street Reggae & Blues Club

What’s the saying? All of my favorite memories are blackouts? That’s how it is with Fremont Street Reggae & Blues club, a dual-service venue that served reggae fans on one side and the blues crew on the other. On Sunday nights the blues club staged an all-star jam that began at midnight and usually careened to a close at 4 a.m. The closing scene of Con Air was filmed near the club entrance after one of those notorious jam sessions. A friend who was really in jam mode scrambled under police tape and into the scene, where he performed a dance called “The Monkey Boy” next to a supine Nicolas Cage.

Cut!

The crowd at Fremont Street Reggae & Blues seemed entirely local, younger, not the types to dive into the nearby casinos to play roulette, or for any other reason (which is one reason the club was never popular with resort owners). It opened in 1993 and closed in September 1996. As owner Terry O’Hallorhan notes on a website for a club he now owns in Omaha, Nebraska, the place shuttered because, “My landlord insisted on getting paid.”

The place was razed and up went Neonopolis. –John Katsilometes

Photograph by Steve Marcus, Las Vegas Sun

NBA All-Star Weekend

Should’ve been the city’s brightest moment: The eyes of the world and, more importantly, those of the NBA’s 30 team owners—the ultimate deciders of our pro-hoops fate—were on us. All-Star Weekend’s first stint in a non-NBA city, this February 2007 event should’ve been a solid step toward Vegas getting a team.

Didn’t work out that way.

Fights, shootings, prostitution. Our city’s de facto CEO, MGM Mirage chief Terrence Lanni, decried the thug element. Bear Stearns gaming analyst Joe Greff lamented the negative impact on the bottom line—these cheapos didn’t gamble. Hospitality workers complained about rude customers. NBA commish David Stern badmouthed the Thomas & Mack Center. Scuttlebutt was that the criticism bore a tinge of racism—trouble like this usually follows when too many black people get together. Should’ve been the best of times, this city’s biggest win yet. But we threw up a brick for the entire world to see. –Damon Hodge

Governor Jim Gibbons

Clearly, not a Vegas-exclusive failure, as we have the rurals to hold accountable. And yes, he could’ve gone in the awesomely ridiculous category, given the made-for-TV sordidness of the cocktail waitress in the garage, illegal immigrant in the house, free rides from lobbyists and inexplicable unfamiliarity with lawmaking. But we’ll put him here in should have succeeded because damn, he’s old enough, he’s been around politics long enough, he was apparently smart once—he could’ve. Feasibly. In theory.

–Stacy J. Willis

Las Vegas Thunder

Hockey buffs will quickly remind us that the Thunder did not actually fail —it was the International Hockey League that failed to remain in operation. The Thunder enjoyed solid support during its stay in Las Vegas, when it played at the Thomas & Mack Center, working games in during the UNLV basketball season and such productions as Pocahontas on Ice. The Thunder usually drew crowds in the 4,000-5,000 range and had a solid core of at least 3,000 fans. The team never won a division championship, but twice had the IHL’s best regular-season record. Such players as Patrice Lefebvre and Clint Malarchuk (who later became the team’s assistant coach) were fan favorites, and the Thunder also produced one of the great mascots, a giant bear named Boom-Boom who charged-up crowds with a manic version of the Macarena. The Thunder were a rung higher than the ECHL’s Las Vegas Wranglers, who keep the hockey legacy alive at the Orleans Arena. –John Katsilometes

Teatro

After numerous renovations, the curtain finally closed on Teatro Lounge on April 15, 2006, just shy of two years after it opened. But for many fans of this little round ruby at the MGM Grand, the end came all too soon. With her hard-like-candy domed shell and her dark and inviting center, Teatro provided the backdrop to many a romantic rendezvous in her day. But if you believe in reincarnation, then perhaps you will find some post-break-up solace in the slightly more open arms—they blew out a wall or two—of her successor, Rouge. Still red as ever, with the same Ferrari-leather banquettes and the trippy bottle wall and projectors, Rouge opened last August, making way for progress with increased capacity (from 80 to 148) and—ugh—video poker. –Xania Woodman

Charlie Trotter in Las Vegas

The acclaimed Chicago chef brought his sophisticated cuisine to the MGM Grand in the mid-’90s, but was slightly ahead of his time. The age of the celebrity chef hadn’t achieved the traction that would later see a fancy restaurant by almost every chef with his name embroidered on an apron. After a short run, acclaimed by foodies but not embraced by others, Trotter packed his kitchen knives when hotel management asked that he make his food more accessible. Word is, though, he might be headed this way again. –Scott Dickensheets

EAT’M

One of the bands featured in the 1999 Emerging Artists & Technology in Music festival was Dogstar, fronted by brooding bassist Keanu Reeves. That type of star billing was an exception, though, as EAT’M (which was held annually in Las Vegas from 1998-2002) was designed as a sprawling showcase that connected music-industry executives with budding contemporary acts. Papa Roach, Slipknot and Michelle Branch used their EAT’M appearances to sign lucrative record deals with major labels.

But EAT’M was too carefully categorized, massive and unwieldy for most acts (not to mention fans). The shows lasted just 20 minutes (barely long enough for most vocalists to clear their throats) and were typically held at resorts rather than clubs, with about 200 bands playing on 15 stages. It was an opportunity to attend addresses by such industry heavyweights as Ahmet Ertegun, but by 2003 EAT’M co-founder Lisa Tenner was seeking a title sponsor willing to kick in $250,000 to keep the festival alive. None has come forward, and EAT’M remains dormant. –John Katsilometes

Photograph by Benjamin Purvis

Avenue Q/Hairspray

There are shows on the Strip that make us laugh, and shows that feature catchy tunes that stay in our heads afterward, and shows with innovative staging and clever premises. But there haven’t been any shows with all of these elements together since the closings last year of Avenue Q at the Wynn and Hairspray at the Luxor. Q closed in May and Hairspray in June, silencing two of the more inventive productions on the Strip.

There are plenty of places to assign blame for their failure, but we’d rather marvel at their existence for even a few months, making us believe in the power of live entertainment with depth, intelligence and subversion right on our much-derided Strip. –John Katsilometes/Josh Bell

The (big) Guggenheim

Vegas loves a headliner, but not even two marquee architects—Rem Koolhaas, who created the space, and Frank Gehry, who designed the showy first exhibit—could save the larger of the two Guggenheim Museums that opened in the Venetian in 2001.

Too bad. Sure, that first (and only) exhibit—remember the “art of the motorcycle” display that seemed to mock the very word “museum”?—was a debatable opening play (the bikes were mostly overwhelmed by Gehry’s curvy-metal and hanging-chain backdrops). But those Gehry contraptions also hinted at the epic exhibits that such a space could host. Example: The Richard Serra show that’s getting so much attention in New York right now—it’s hard to think of another space in Vegas that could’ve held it.

In other words, it was a wonderful idea, plainly doomed from the outset by the ruthless math of the casino biz—that much valuable square footage simply couldn’t be devoted to a venture as nonremunerative as culture. Credit where it’s due, though, to the Venetian brass and those crazy dreamers at the Gugg, for trying. And it did bequeath us the smaller Guggenheim-Hermitage, a valuable pixel of high culture here. –Scott Dickensheets

University Theatre

We’d had our hopes dashed many times before, but this one felt different. An all-ages venue, on the Maryland corridor no less, run by longtime Las Vegans who knew the scene and had surely learned from the failings of umpteen past ventures. By all accounts the kids loved it, local bands dug it and the neighbors didn’t hate it. Yet less than five months after opening, University Theatre closed, another victim of county-permit snafus. Blame the Man or UT management if you prefer, but either way, it’s gone and might have taken Southern Nevada’s best chance to finally fill its all-ages-venue void with it. –Spencer Patterson

2. Several awesome ridiculous ideas

Kid-friendly Vegas

Which part of sex, drinking and gambling doesn’t seem like it’s kid-friendly? Why was there a race to build castles and roller coasters in the mid-1990s when, here in the 21st century, it’s apparent that teenagers, and 40-year-olds who believe they are teenagers, would turn out to be Vegas’ primary consumers of debauchery? We simply misunderstood children. However, it was fun to think Las Vegas could be a giant, dirty day-care, or a slightly sleazified Disney. It was fun to watch casinos teeter on the line between goofy wholesomeness and rabid prurience. It was fun, and it made money, and it died. –Stacy J. Willis

Titanic Casino

Thank Bob Stupak for this one. In 1999, his idea of creating a Titanic-themed casino on the Strip allowed the R-J to write this: “Bob Stupak’s Titanic hotel hit an iceberg Monday in the form of the Las Vegas City Council, which voted 4-1 against a zone change for his proposed 15-story boat on a seedy stretch of Las Vegas Boulevard.”

Trademark infringements had Stupak naming the cracked ship/casino/hotel proposal The Boat. It was to have 1,000 rooms, or cabins, in which people would die. No, no, they’d sleep there, and gamble downstairs, and presumably talk to ghosts and listen to the band playing on. It was a fabulous, horrid, $300 million idea. –Stacy J. Willis

Las Ramblas

Everything about the $3 billion Las Ramblas mixed-use project, slated for Harmon between the Strip and the Hard Rock, was cool.

Its motto: “Forget everything you know about Vegas. It’s all about to change.”

Its dress code: No flip-flops or fanny packs.

Its backers: actors George Clooney and Brad Pitt and nightclub impresario Rande Gerber.

You believed they could lure investors, overcome their inexperience and join Trump International as only the second successful vanity project by a Vegas newcomer.

Wrong!

Vanity builds mansions, not megaresorts.

Las Ramblas threatened to be more expensive than the Wynn, which was like throwing a Hail Mary on the first play of the game.

Star power may work in Hollywood, but this is the Strip or, as Steve Wynn calls it, “the most violent business competition” in America. Only the strong and well-capitalized survive here.

R.I.P. Las Ramblas. –Damon Hodge

Dusty the Dusthole

He was a TV-spot redneck racing his size-is-an-issue truck all over the open desert, stirring up dust, causing air pollution: Clark County’s mascot for bad four-wheelin’ behavior, Dusty the Dusthole. Is he a failure? Is there still dust? Are there still drivers who insist on whipping up dirt in a parched desert? Dusty hasn’t wholly succeeded, but he gave us that scintillating word: You said “dusthole.” –Stacy J. Willis

MGM Grand lion entrance

When the MGM Grand opened in 1992, the hotel spent millions on an imposing, gold-painted lion at the resort’s entrance on the corner of Tropicana Avenue and Las Vegas Boulevard.

Seemed like a good idea at the time. The angry, gleaming feline fairly stopped traffic on that corner and was one of the Strip’s best photo ops.

But the big cat, for generations MGM’s corporate symbol, infuriated Asian tourists, who noted that walking into the mouth of such a beast is considered bad luck. Thus, the entrance was redesigned as a more Asian-friendly walkway, though a statue of a lion still stands above that corner. It was not the first time a casino attraction had to be scuttled. As MGM Mirage spokesman Alan Feldman later explained to the New York Times, the Mirage once built a high-limit gaming area that looked like a library. But the Chinese word for “book” sounds like “death,” so books can be seen as unlucky in gambling areas. Within an hour, the books had been removed. –John Katsilometes

Yucca Mountain Johnny

Born on the web: 2004. Killed in Congress: June 20, 2007. Not since Joe Camel has such an actually unappealing cartoon character been accused of endearing children to toxicity. And better than the phenomenon of a smiling cartoon guy stumping for nuke waste, there’s real-life congresswoman Shelley Berkley vocally fighting against Johnny. For the kids. What’s been accomplished by this? Nothing but good, clean failuretainment. –Stacy J. Willis

Frances Deane

Where to start with the former county recorder?

A 1997 divorce to protect family assets from a potential lawsuit? Driving without a license—it was suspended in 1999? Outstanding traffic fines, which she paid after the media outed her? Plans to start an Internet company to sell public records that her office provided for free? The seven state ethics violations, for which she paid a $5,000 fine? Planting lies among her staff to identify snitches? Allegedly pocketing $44,000 for providing title companies easy access to her office’s records? Reliance upon a psychic for making important decisions?

Where will it end for Deane?

The criminal justice system will decide: She was indicted June 2006 on 19 felony counts tied to the alleged sale of 32 years of real estate records. –Damon Hodge

Poker Dome

A televised poker tournament broadcast on Fox Sports Network from the heart of Las Vegas. What could possibly go wrong? But Poker Dome is cutting and running from Neonopolis by the end of August, and don’t blame this one on the curse of the retail mall on Fremont Street and Las Vegas Boulevard. The setting had nothing to do with why Poker Dome’s primary sponsor, MANSIONpoker.net, pulled its funding of the series of Texas hold ’em competitions. The federal government’s crackdown on online gaming sites was cited as the chief reason (the company reasoned that if it could not count on money pouring in from the U.S., it made no sense to promote itself on an American cable network).

The idea was to televise 43 tournaments each year for three years from the third-floor Neonopolis venue, which cut into the Galaxy Theaters on the same floor. But Poker Dome was never a huge draw for foot traffic (what you and I refer to as “people”), drawing about 120 fans per event. The significant loss is the national exposure on Fox Sports Network that Poker Dome provided Neonopolis. Or, what’s left of Neonopolis. The project’s lone tenants are now Del Prado Jewelers and Jillian’s, which is a tough hand to play. –John Katsilometes

David Hasselhoff in The Producers

If nothing else, David Hasselhoff can be known as the rare actor to have performed in both Speedos and a full-length ball gown and matching tiara. Of the latter, he said, “It makes me look like the Chrysler building.” It was a good line, one that he repeated for three months in his role as the gaily addled Roger DeBris in The Producers at Paris Las Vegas.

Hasselhoff was brought in to supply star power to a production facing iffy prospects. Sliced to 90 minutes for restless Vegas audiences, The Producers needed a big name to fill seats. But even with Hoff turning in consistently funny performances, the show often played to a half-full theater. Soon after its gala opening on February 8, word around the production was that ticket sales were soft and the crowds comped-up to make the audience numbers appear respectable (Hoff has since been replaced by Lee Roy Reams, who lacks the name recognition but is a Tony Award-winning performer).

The Hoff made a lot of news away from the production, too, with his custody battles and recorded accounts of drunken hamburger-devouring. By the end of his run, Producers producers were already looking for the Next Big Thing, and settled on Tony Danza as Max Bialystock. Maybe that’ll work. –John Katsilometes

3. Some ideas and entities displaying admirable perseverance

The notion of economic diversification

We failed to be home to dotcom firms in the right era, and totally ignored The Graduate’s sage advice, “plastics.” Still, the idea of expanding Vegas’ economy to be less dependent on gaming, as well as some efforts toward that end, soldier on. By necessity. Someday, we’ll have a giant iPhone factory, or an entire Big Pharma industry, employing lots of people in something other than hospitality. Somewhere. Somehow. Someday. –Stacy J. Willis

Stan Vaughan

He ran for Assembly against a neighborhood champ. He sent letters. He went door-to-closed-door. He blanketed the media with really pesky e-mail. He got a MySpace site. Called it myspace.com/vaughanfornevadaad7. He lost. He announced he’s running again. He sent more letters: Stan Vaughan for Nevada Assembly 7 (North Las Vegas). He continues to e-mail, to send packages that include Xeroxed photos of this and that, calls himself “Nevada’s lone intellectual since the death of Hal Rothman.” He’s a free-thinking nerd, and although, as of yet, his persistence has changed little, it reminds us that not everyone caves in to political and social pressure. And that’s something. –Stacy J. Willis

Photograph by Las Vegas Sun

Fremont Street Experience

It’s hard to know whether to consider this a persevering failure or rather a thing that’s just stubbornly still there. Most of us believe it fails in comparison to what it replaced, the iconic, driveable stretch of Glitter Gulch that, for many, stood for authentic Vegas. A cheesy video lid over Vegas Vic—heresy. And, regardless of whatever words of support it elicits from the hotels nosed under its canopy, the Experience can’t really be said to have sparked a Downtown efflorescence.

Still, it’s part of Vegas now, one more overdetermined surface in a city crammed with them—our own gimpy aurora borealis, in 12.5 million synchronized LED modules. It’s hard to dislike anymore; it even, dare we say, engenders a certain ... fondness? (Is there a word that means almost-fondness?) Perhaps questions of success or failure are beside the point now. It is, simply, here, and it’s not going away. Might as well learn to live with it. –Scott Dickensheets

The monorail

It’s got a little-train-that-could persistence that almost mitigates its bad press—all those media arias about declining ridership, the banged-up bond rating, the general pointlessness of a rail line that runs behind one side of the Strip. Hey, the trains run on time, parts have long ago stopped falling off and it’s an easy way to get from the MGM to the Sahara, should you need to do so. –Scott Dickensheets

Photograph by Richard Brian

The local comedy scene

At least five opportunities to catch free local comedy each week, and still, rarely do full, appreciative audiences emerge at any given spot. As Vegas comic John Hilder recently blogged, “I hoped I would never have to beg people to come out and watch talented comedians tell hilarious jokes. I never saw that day coming. I understand this is Vegas and everyone is busy, everyone has their own shit to worry about. I’m not saying ignore your worries. I’m saying, put them on the back burner for a few hours and come and have a laugh with us.” If New York, LA, San Francisco, Seattle—even Salt Lake City and Phoenix—can produce strong scenes supporting their respective hard-working stand-ups, surely too can our own entertainment capital. –Julie Seabaugh