Fred Fayeghi
Charmingly amatuerish auto pitchman
"If I can vinance him, and I vill, I can vinance you." If you closed your eyes and just listened to the voice—think Dracula with a Middle Eastern accent—you'd miss the televised hilarity. No ploy was too cheesy for used-car salesman Fred Fayeghi. He used kids, cartoonish characters and money—thrown about willy-nilly—in his commercials.
Funny stuff.
Not so funny: Fayeghi's numerous customer complaints and lengthy legal battles. Earlier this year, IRS snoops came looking for evidence of tax evasion. Seven years ago, the feds canvassed his offices for evidence of money laundering and a failure to file currency transaction reports. When the going gets tough, Fayeghi bounces out of town; he reportedly has a home in Iran. He was "out of town" when the Weekly called.
Kelly Wiglesworth
Survivor survivor
When Survivor: All-Stars premieres on CBS February 1, right after the Super Bowl, first-season runner-up and former UNLV student Kelly Wiglesworth will not be among the contestants. The 26-year-old whitewater-rafting guide, who won $100,000 for coming in behind Richard Hatch in 2000, still spends most of her time outdoors, living in Maui and "surfing as much as possible." She's shopping for a publisher for a book she's writing about life on the island, guiding rafting trips in California in the spring and summer and looking for another gig on TV. Besides a brief stint as the host of E!'s Celebrity Adventures in 2001 and an appearance on Survivor creator Mark Burnett's Eco-Challenge show last year, Wigles (as she's known) has kept a low profile since her 15 minutes of fame, and doesn't seem too concerned about getting back in the spotlight. "I will just see where the wind blows me," she says. Spoken like a true survivor.
Kevin DuBrow
Singer, deejay, rock 'n' roll animal
Rock stars, as a rule, don't begin their days at 4:30 a.m. At that hour, most haven't finished squeezing the last drops of drugs and debauchery out of the day before.
But from 1996-'97, Quiet Rioter Kevin DuBrow gave the daybreak shift a go when the personable singer and Las Vegan co-hosted the morning show with Craig Williams on KOMP 92.3-FM.
"I enjoyed it very much, but waking up at that particular hour was not my first choice," says DuBrow, who pegs his departure to a more pressing issue.
"Money," he says. "I was used to making more, basically. The money was coming in, but not to the talent. Craig now makes in the six figures, but we were making way less than half that. I thought opportunities for advancement were nonexistent."
Fortunately, DuBrow's primary gig—as founder/singer of Quiet Riot, the metal gang that rocketed to '80s rock royalty with their remake of Slade's "Cum On, Feel the Noize"—was a hell of a fallback option.
"I went right back to steadily touring with [the reconfigured] Quiet Riot, straight through September of last year, so it was a pretty long run—a lot of those bands like Quiet Riot and Motley Crue had broken up, so with no bands from the '80s existing, there was a demand for that kind of music again," DuBrow says.
"But we over-fished those waters, so it became a case of diminished returns. And Quiet Riot, like any rock band, we were a dysfunctional family. There was a situation that was impossible to tolerate after a number of years. You compromise and compromise, then you finally say, 'I'm done.' As a solo artist, I don't have to compromise with other people's desires and needs, especially when other people's needs are selfish, and there's a member of the band who's impossible to deal with."
Referring to anyone in particular, Kev?
"Definitely."
Care to tell us who?
"Nope."
DuBrow is working on a solo album, tentatively titled Buried Treasure, scheduled for release in May from Shrapnel Records. He's also busy compiling a disc of Quiet Riot releases featuring late guitarist Randy Rhoads.
Whatever's on his docket, DuBrow's committed to doing it right here in the city he swears by.
"I lived in LA for the majority of my life, but Vegas is more fun, there's more to do, there's just nothing I don't like about Las Vegas," he says.
"People are so awesome here."
Charles Woods
Fire-scarred serial office-seeker
He describes himself as a "businessman, World War II veteran and frequent candidate." Seems pretty accurate. First came his runs for governor and lieutenant governor of Alabama in the '70s. Then he came to Nevada and memorably ran for Senate against Harry Reid in 1992. Add to that his run for president, also in 1992. And his run in 1994 to unseat Sen. Richard Bryan. Then there was the go at Alabama's House of Representatives in 2000 and 2002. He hasn't won yet, but the 83-year-old disfigured veteran still seems unwilling or unable to give up. Despite the profound and openminded comments of the American public:
"Seeing his campaign commercials was one of the more scary memories of my childhood," said one observer. "I dunno about Woods," responded another, "you almost have to admire someone that mutilated running for public office. Or maybe pity is the word ..."
Say four more:
"Looks like he was burnt alive."
"He does look completley ugly.
"You'd look ugly too if you were burned alive."
"I didn't know he was burned alive."
Raelians
Celestial baby sitters
It was a year ago that this alien-worshipping sect claimed to have added a new member the hard way: by cloning a baby, whom they naturally dubbed Eve. Since no media's been allowed to see her, the attention has died down and her birth has been relegated to a hoax (although there's still a $5 bet going in this office that Eve exists). But in the absence of the flashing cameras, the Raelians are still working their angles: They nominated hip-hop singer Lauryn Hill as honorary guide of the Raelian Movement, successfully appealed a Swiss ruling that condemned Raelians for their criticism of pedophile priests and declared 2004 the year of atheism.
The attention they received helped up membership worldwide by about 5,000 and locally by three, according to Ricky Roehr, the U.S. president of the Raelians, who lives in Las Vegas. But the negative attention has been more noticeable. Roehr says that some Raelians have lost their jobs and custody of their children after being labeled members of a cult. "People are scared of what they don't understand and they're scared most of the time to even look into what they don't understand. They don't want to change their beliefs, they're afraid to leave their comfort zone."
Arnie Adamsen
Former city councilman
Last Seen: Consulting for the nonprofit Business Watch Network, which teaches people about crime and public safety.
Before That: Getting his ass handed to him in the 1999 mayoral election.
Happy Harry
Charmingly amatuerish used-furniture pitchman
"I make evvvverrrrybody happy, I'm Happy Harry!" was the roly-poly furniture dealer's TV pitch. If you heard it once, it'd be echoing in your head all day.
Harry Haneman—wig-wearing, gold-chain-chested, and ever-so hap-hap-happy, was the quintessential Vegas salesman. In addition to giving us the most uplifting furniture liquidation ads ever, Happy Harry ran the Pussycat-A-Go-Go nightclub on the Strip in the 1960s, and later opened a pizza joint on Flamingo. What's not to be happy about? Harry was often spotted around town in a boat of a sedan marked "Happy Harry" on the back—he was never out of character.
Haneman died in 2002. He had requested that his age not be disclosed.
The Horseshoe's $1 million display
We all know why Binion's Horseshoe really closed its doors.
Not because it eliminated the no-limits betting that made the place famously infamous.
Not, as the legend we are hereby starting has it, that before his death, Lonnie "Ted" Binion vowed to haunt the place if Sandra Murphy ever got a new trial.
And certainly not because it's located on the street where even a high-class joint like The Saloon can't make an honest penny.
We knew the place was doomed when it sold the $1 million display of $10,000 bills, which you could get your picture taken with, FREE.
What were they thinking?!
Those dollars were one of the first things hayseeds from afar wanted to see in Las Vegas. For many of midwestern pilgrims—depressed by the barren mountains, the innate greed and drivers who don't use blinkers—the free picture was a momentary uplift, a "yes, you CAN make it here" boost, a souvenir to take back to the hills if you did not.
Then some genius decided to sell it.
The 100 $10,000 bills that stood encased in Plexiglas at the Horseshoe for almost 50 years are now in the hands of, and on sale by, Jay Parrino, a rare bill collector in Kansas City, Missouri. When he bought them for under $10 million in December 1999, Parrino estimated the worth of each note—the treasury stopped printing $10,000 bills in 1969—at $60,000, with some in the "six figures" range.
Parrino did not return calls to comment on how sales of the bills are going, but you can take a look at the rarity on his website, www.jp-themint.com.
The Men of EFX
None of the men of EFX will probably be remembered for their starring role in the long-running MGM production show. Not that any of these alumnae have distinguished themselves much since leaving the show, either. Phantom of the Opera star Michael Crawford was the leading man when EFX opened in 1995. He was gone by fall 1996. In 1998, Crawford starred in a television concert on PBS and the following year published his autobiography: Parcel Arrived Safely: Tied with String. In 2002, he attempted a return to the Broadway stage with Dance of the Vampires, which made precisely no one forget Phantom.
Crawford's replacement, Partridge Family stud David Cassidy, lasted for two years before departing for his own show, At the Copa, which played a short run at the Rio. In 2001, Cassidy released the CD A Touch of Blue, which mixed new recordings with his familiar hits. The following year, Cassidy released a concert DVD that also included the familiar hits. This spring, Cassidy is scheduled for a concert tour of the UK that is sure to include all the familiar hits.
Hoofer Tommy Tune has done the concert trail as well since vacating the EFX controls. Last year, Tune, a nine-time Tony Award winner before starting at EFX, received a lifetime achievement award from the National Endowment for the Arts. EFX was not mentioned in the inscription. Tune also co-hosted Broadway's Lost Treasures, a compilation of clips from televised Broadway musicals released on video in October. This month Tommy Tune is on tour in the United States with the Manhattan Rhythm Kings. He's also set to be the national celebrity spokesperson for National Dance Week, April 23-May 2.
Rick Springfield is still Rick Springfield.
Sister Cities
Vogueish business- and civic-exchange program
Oscar Goodman cut the chord to the near-flatlining idea in 2001, ending a failed 14-year quest to forge economic ties with East Asia. The program became a series of nonhits and misses: Asian companies reneging on projects or buying land they never used and city leaders vacationing to the Pacific Rim on "diplomatic" missions on the taxpayer dime.
The cast of Vega$
Memorably cheesy TV show, 1978-81
Three of them are dead and one is Tony Curtis.
Plus assorted stragglers, apparently living below the mass-market radar.
That's the latest on the cast of ABC's Vega$, the action-drama that defined this town TV-wise before our resurgence via CBS' CSI and NBC's Las Vegas.
Sadly, death took the trio before any of them could live much into their 60s.
Robert Urich, who oh-so-coolly cruised the Strip in his red '57 Thunderbird as dashing PI Dan Tanna, succumbed to cancer in 2002, at age 55. Also on the obit list: Greg Morris, the Mission: Impossible vet who played Lt. Dave Nelson and also lost a bout with cancer in 1996, one month shy of his 61st birthday; and Will Sampson, who appeared occasionally as Harlon Two-Leaf, Tanna's Native American buddy from Vietnam, and died of complications from heart surgery in 1987, at age 53.
Of the remaining supporting cast, Bart Braverman, now 58, who portrayed Tanna's assistant and indelible doofus Binzer, has bounced around Hollywood since the lights went out on Vega$, doing guest shots on TV series (The West Wing in 2000, HBO's From the Earth to the Moon in 1998) and soaps (Phillipe Renault on Days of Our Lives, 1998-'99), occupying a panel seat on Match Game (still seen in reruns on the Game Show Network) and voicing animated characters (Dr. Bandari in 1998's Mowgli: The New Adventures of the Jungle Book), as well as the occasional movie (the reporter/snack munched on by Alligator, not to mention ... Hollywood Hot Tubs 2: Educating Crystal, anyone?).
Phyllis Davis, the designated hottie who played Tanna's foxy secretary, Beatrice Travis, is now 56 and seems to have forsaken the Hollywood scene. Vega$ followed her breakthrough stint as a babelicious "blackout player" on Love, American Style during the early '70s. Post-Vega$, Davis did a smattering of Aaron Spelling-produced TV movies and a host of guest shots. Her résumé trail tails off around the late-'80s with a recurring role as Cleo Mitchell on Tom Selleck's Magnum, P.I. Today, says the website spybee.com, Davis "is still involved in show business, but on a limited basis."
The last known TV sighting of acting vet Naomi Stevens—who played Sgt. Bella Archer and is now 77—was on a 1986 Webster episode. But in an Internet search, Stevens turned up teaching an AFTRA (American Federation of Television and Radio Artists) acting workshop in Phoenix in 2002.
Pixie-pie Judy Landers—who was Angie Turner, a Vega$ chorus girl who took messages for Tanna—went on to star as Miss Judy in The Huggabug Club, put in guest appearances in series as diverse as L.A Law, Night Court, Murder, She Wrote, Knight Rider and The A-Team, and movies and miniseries including Club Fed, Stewardess School and The Yum-Yum Girls (our personal favorite). The last Landers credit we could dig up was in 1999's Doin' Time, in which she is billed as "The Bride."
And Tony C? The screen legend, who played the recurring role of Strip hotelier Philip ("Slick") Roth, retired from acting, moved to Vegas five years ago with his fifth wife, Jill, lives at Anthem, devotes himself to painting and writing and, at age 78, is still a familiar face on the local party/social circuit, living life as if he just turned 21.
Fan Man
Annoying aerial intruder
He was strapped to a paraglider when he came sailing over the grandstands toward a boxing ring at Caesars Palace in 1993. Uninvited. He landed in the middle of the Riddick Bowe vs. Evander Holyfield heavyweight title fight—and made a famous nuisance of himself. It got him beat up by Bowe's entourage and sent to jail.
Fan Man, James Miller of Henderson, went on to land on the roof of Buckingham Palace and soar over at least one NFL game.
But Miller died at the age of 39 in 2003, by hanging—a reported suicide. Hunters in the deep woods of Alaska found his body.
Richard "The Fixer" Perry
Basketball fan, hot tub enthusiast
This sports fixer wasn't the straw that broke the back of UNLV's once-mighty men's basketball program—it was hard to tell who hated coach Jerry Tarkanian more, university President Robert Maxson or the NCAA—but Richard Perry's proximity to the team didn't help.
When photos surfaced showing three Rebels chilling in a hot tub and playing hoops at Perry's house, conspiracy theories arose—why did the Rebels, 34-0 at the time, melt down in the waning moments of the 1991 national title game against Duke?—and the NCAA vultures swooped in.
Nary a peep's been heard from UNLV's men's program on the national radar since. Meantime, Perry's been convicted of tax evasion (1996), inducted into Nevada's Black Book (No. 37) and has kept a low-low-damn-near subterranean profile. Rumor has him living in Florida.
Frank Hawkins
Former city councilman
Last Seen: Working with Las Vegas and North Las Vegas officials on building affordable housing as executive director of the nonprofit Community Development Programs Center of Nevada.
Before That: Having his ethics challenged and losing his council seat.
Magic's Westland Plaza
The Grin had high hopes for West Las Vegas. And why not? Everything Magic Johnson touched turned golden. The Lakers: five NBA championship rings. The NBA: sagging in 1979 when he and a long-haired Indiana hick with decent range revived the league. The business world: restaurants, movie theaters, partnership in a bank. Blighted communities: recipients of his philanthropy.
So his shopping center on Owens and H Street promised to be the first in a series of developments to invigorate the Westside. With a planned cineplex, it was to mirror his commercial center in South Central LA, with Starbucks, Fatburger and TGI Friday's. Never happened. The Grin failed.
In August, city redevelopment officials OK'd the sale of the Vons-anchored, 63,000-square-foot shopping center to a New York investment group fronted by longtime local entrepreneur John Edmond, who plans to expand its commercial scope to include eateries and clothing and shoe stores.
Matthew Callister
Former city councilman
Last Seen: In court. He's a successful lawyer.
Irwin Schiff
Strident anti-tax gadfly
Though a federal court judge hushed him and banned his anti-income tax book, Irwin Schiff is more talkative than ever, launching into rants at the drop of a tax-free dime.
"You hear people say America's a great country. What's great about it? … Go into Wal-Mart and try to buy something made in America. I just bought a briefcase made in China. I bought a shopping bag made in China. I was in K-mart, they had 75 bicycles made in China. I just left Office Max, I bought a box of these little butterfly clips, you know those clips you squeeze together? Made in China! We don't make anything anymore."
In February, the FBI raided his Freedom Books store and took boxes of information and data from his computer. Then, a judged banned the sale of his book, Federal Mafia, and told him not to even talk about not paying income taxes. Now, almost a year later, he's legally selling the banned book again and is more convinced than ever that he's right and income taxes are wrong. "The point is this: Why would they stop me from saying it if it's not true?"
Mark Brown
Former Station Casinos honcho
Last Seen: Building a 24,000-square-foot building for his Brown & Partners public-relations firm.
Before That: Tucking tail in 2001 after orchestrating a so-called smear campaign against former County Commissioner Lance Malone; when Malone waffled on a plan to stop a Station's competitor from building a casino in Spring Valley, Brown, then Station's executive vice president of government affairs, produced a flier showing Malone stuffing his pockets with cash.
Sam Greenfield
Quixotically liberal radio personality
Name that talk-show host:
"If a liberal had to enter rehab because of an addiction to illegally obtained painkillers, how easy would Rush Limbaugh be on that person? Playing Clapton's 'Cocaine'? Ray Charles' 'Let's Go Get Stoned'? Suggesting a jail term? Well, now, this pompous hypocrite has been hoisted on his own petard, reminiscent of Gingrich chastising Clinton's behavior while Newt was stuffing his intern's ballot box. Don't expect me to treat him with compassion, not for the man who trashed Clinton while he was burying his mother. YOU WERE WRONG, EL FASCISTO. You are a victim—a victim of your own ego. Swim in it."
Sam never was the shy sort.
El Greenfield, the Washington, D.C.-born gabber whose left-wing harangues emboldened some listeners and enraged others in the late-'90s on his afternoon talk show on KXNT 840-AM, is safely tucked into his native New York. After a talk-show stint at WEVD-AM, the standup comic, actor, writer, singer and chatterer is now proclaiming how wrong the right is at another AM station, WWRL.
Since departing Vegas, Greenfield and his wife, writer/performer Barbara Singer, adopted a little girl, Cassie, on the cusp of age 5. "We miss our friends in Vegas," Sam told us, adding that anyone in the mood for an e-reunion can reach him at [email protected].
Theron Goynes
Former North Las Vegas city councilman and mayor pro tem
Last Seen: Serving (still) on boards of the Regional Transportation Commission and the advisory Board of the Urban Chamber of Commerce; speaking (still) at prep schools and to university classes—he was a principal at four schools.
Before That: Failing to become the first black mayor of a Southern Nevada city; he lost the 1997 race to current mayor Michael Montandon.
Slaughter
Fleetingly successful metal band
Slaughter bassist Dana Strum is confident that his band's brand of bombastic hard rock will never go out of style. The biggest rock band ever to come out of Las Vegas (as Strum is careful to point out) just saw its first two albums, 1990's Stick it to Ya and 1992's The Wild Life, reissued with bonus tracks and expanded liner notes by Strum and frontman Mark Slaughter. They've been a regular fixture on summer nostalgia tours and will be on the road again this year. There's a DVD -Audio with hits and rarities out at the end of February, and Capitol is set to release a full-length Slaughter DVD in time for the summer tour.
Only two of the four members—Strum and drummer Blas Elias—still call Vegas home, with Strum putting his rock earnings to use investing in real estate and running a video production company. Elias plays drums in the Blue Man Group band, and Slaughter himself has decamped to Nashville, where he does animation voice work and has started writing incidental music for Fox and Fox Sports. Guitarist Jeff Blando—who replaced original member Tim Kelly when Kelly died in an auto accident in 1998—resides in Orlando, where he puts on rock performances at biker rallies. The band still flies the Vegas banner, though. "At first they asked us when we were moving out," Strum says. "Now we go play Vegas-type casinos all over the country."
Art Schlichter
Problem gambler and fritterer of talent
He had an arm and he used it to throw his life away.
If you think Pete Rose's gambling story is pathetic, Schlichter's is in the realm of disgusting.
And to think, Schlichter was once considered the second coming, a football wizard expected to break every record, to win every game, to bedevil every opponent.
Schlichter was "the most celebrated quarterback ever to emerge from an Ohio high school," wrote the Cleveland Plain Dealer. He starred at Ohio State, and was even part of the firing of coaching legend Woody Hayes: Schlichter's pass was intercepted by Charlie Bauman in the waning moments of the 1978 Gator Bowl; incensed, Hayes punched Bauman on the sideline. He was fired the next day.
In 1982, Schlichter's brilliant college career turned goldmine when he was drafted in the first round, with a $350,000 signing bonus, by the Indianapolis Colts. He was out of pro football by 1984, with gambling allegations firmly in tow. He played eight games in the Canadian Football League in 1988. A brilliant quarterback who sucked at gambling.
And landed in Vegas, and prison.
During one of his free spates, he spent six months on KVEG-AM in Las Vegas as a sports talk-show host. Allegations are that he used that time to make connections to propel a check-kiting scheme. In 1995, he was sentenced in U.S. District Court in Las Vegas to two years prison for stealing up to $500,000.
So where is he now?
At 43, he's serving a three-year sentence in federal prison in Brooklyn, New York, on another gambling-related charge.
Buck Buffalo
Dyspeptic former Weekly letters-page mascot
(Seeking an update on his whereabouts, we received the following in a tiny swatch of paper tied to the foot of a homing pigeon that landed at the door of the Greenspun Empire building.)
Hello, kids.
It's been a while. Ole Buck Buffalo has been on a sojourn to the Dark Continent for the last few years, taking care of a few loose ends, so I haven't had much time to write. I'm pretty much the same ole' Buck, but man, have things changed back in Vegas! I've just raided several Weekly distribution racks and am in the process of mailing several hundred copies overseas. And trust me, my buds in the trenches of Bahgdad won't be using those pretty faces for toilet paper.
I won't reveal my exact coordinates, but suffice it to say you know where I am. Funny the way life works, the way things come full circle. Twenty years ago, I was teaching this bearded, bewildered fellow simple terms in English: "Em-Sixty, rocket-propelled grenade, death to the infidels." Now, I'm digging him out of a hole, patting him on the head and telling him hello from George Dubya. It's confusing, even for me.
So I'm semi-retired. I'm living in the Northwest and have a cushy job at a company that's run by The Company.
But I know I'll get "the itch" again. I also know I won't have to worry. If not Vegas, I'm sure there's a sand-covered country out there that George will want to secure. Keep watching the papers.
Lois Tarkanian
First Lady of UNLV hoops
Last Seen: Helping out children's causes around town.
Before That: Losing Waterstones, the airport bookstore she ran with husband Jerry, to Borders Books on a 5-2 vote of the County Commission.
And Before That: Losing her County Commission bid to Chip Maxfield.
Ickey Woods
Charmingly choreographed football player
It didn't reach the iconic status of the Curly Shuffle, but the Ickey Shuffle—two hops on the left leg, two on the right, one hop backward, culminating with a spike—did captivate the NFL in the 1980s, making a star of its creator, former UNLV great Elbert "Ickey" Woods.
Coming out of UNLV in 1987, Woods led the nation in rushing, then, in his NFL debut, racked up 1,066 yards and 15 touchdowns, powering the Cincinnati Bengals to the Super Bowl. He'd play three more injury-plagued years before retiring to Cincinnati, where he married, fathered six children and career-hopped; he's done everything from selling security systems to distributing meat.
The last Cincinnati Enquirer Deputy Sports Editor Michael Perry had heard, Woods owned Quality Floors. The number to the business is out of service. The best Cincinnati Bengals flak Jack Brennan could offer: "He lives here, but I don't know what he's doing."
Toni Basil
Adorable "Hey, Mickey" chick
Basil, if you're under 30, was the school-boy fantasy whose pop single, "Hey, Mickey," hit number one in 1982. Dressed in a Las Vegas High School cheerleader outfit—she graduated from LVHS—the then 38-year-old bent over nicely for the camera, pumped her fists and opened wide those fawnish big brown eyes in her revolutionary MTV video.
Today, Basil lives in Los Angeles and, according to reports scattered around the Internet, still does choreography, the latest being for the new Bette Midler tour. If you missed the video, you can find it in Cleveland at the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame, where she's featured in a "One-Hit Wonders" exhibit.
John Wayne Bobbitt
Conductor, severed-penis express to fame
For a while, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of John Wayne Bobbitt. After his wife, Lorena, famously gave him severence payback for his alleged abuse in 1993, he found himself trapped in the sort of joyless, news-of-the-weird kind of quasi-celebrity perhaps best summed up in one word: Frankenpenis, the porn film he made in a limp attempt to capitalize on his notoriety. Trying to regain a sense of, um, normalcy, he came to Nevada, where he variously drove a cab, became a gimmicky minister and worked in a brothel near Carson City.
So where's he now? No doubt covering little John in the shower: He's doing time in Ely State Prison for violating the terms of his probation on a 1999 charge of attempted grand larceny. (The charges stem from his role in a clothing-store theft in Fallon.) Last March, he was sentenced to 12-32 months. His probation-busting offense: battering his wife. Some guys just can't get it through their heads, even when they do get it through their heads.