New Year's Eve. Its mere mention can send shivers of excitement up the spines of even the most prudish party pooper. And what better place than Vegas for New Year's?
When I was little, New Year's Eve was this faraway land o' fun. I remember watching my older sisters and cousins getting all worked up over the holiday. Meanwhile, I was up to my Underoos in parents and grandparents and their uncool legions of old-fart acquaintances. I couldn't wait to get older.
In high school, I still had a hard time getting in on the action. I was a bit of a nerd, so I didn't get that many invites to bashes at the cool kids' houses. But my first night out on NYE was Jerry Seinfeld at the Thomas and Mack. No parents. I musta been maybe 16 or 17, but it was my first official "past curfew" outing. It was brilliant. The man who fought the Soup Nazi, New Year's Eve, and I didn't have to be home till 1 a.m.!
After high school, it was all about the crowds. Back before all this Fremont Street Experience hoopla, Downtown was a seedy little district and the official home for New Year's. It was crazy and oh so dirty. I miss it!
One year, I wanted to spend the evening with this girl I'd been dating: Jocelyn. All was well until her best friend got dumped and needed to tag along. We got stuck in traffic and bitched at each other half the night until we finally got off the Strip. The friend fell asleep in the back, and Jocelyn and I parked and spent the night on the hood, staring at the stars. What started as a shitty night became not only one of the best NYE's ever, but one of the best nights ever, period. Damn, I miss that chick.
At the other end of the spectrum was 2001, and the night Utopia reopened after the great fire of June 2000. My friends and I were ecstatic. Losing Utopia was like losing a member of the family. The anticipation for the reopening was high as hell, so imagine the collective "Ah shit!" from the crowd as they entered the remodeled venue. In place of the darkness and slightly dirty cool was a white, sterile box. The new club was about VIP booths, tables reservations and bottle service. That's fine elsewhere, but not at Utopia. Locals never forgave owner David Cohen and Utopia went down not with a bang, but with a whimper. Sad.
What about this year? I'm going to Pure and then after-hours at OPM. Will it rock? Will it suck? Who knows with NYE? It's always unpredictable. I tell friends that when it comes to New Year's Eve, I make no promises. I have no expectations. I just go and see what happens, and damn, that's exciting. That's why I love it.
Be smart. Be safe. But most of all, Happy New Year!
E-mail Antonio Llapur at
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