Weekly punslinger David McKee files this report from the front lines of the celebrity campaign endorsement wars: Nevada Supreme Court hopeful John Mason's campaign flyer lists endorsements from 26 current or former public officials and ... Olivia Newton-John?!? Wherefore this sudden Newtonian interest in Nevada jurisprudence? Was she stirred by Mason's pitch that we're "Livin' in Desperate Times"? Or does she simply want to get "Physical" with the strict constructionist? Did he tell her, "I Honestly Need You"? And did she respond, "You have to believe we are magic"?
Has he ever been mellow? If we could read Olivia's mind during these summer nights, perhaps she'd say Mason is "Totally Hot," a "Compassionate Man" and our "Window to the Sky," and that Carson City is "Xanadu." Safe to say, "It's Not Heaven."
Mason's surely hoping Nevada voters don't deem him "The Biggest Clown" or that Election Day means "Being on the Losing End" or "Blue Eyes Cryin' in the Rain." And if he's elected, will the Aussie songstress be "Walkin' on Air"? We feel confident the judge-elect will say, "Christmas Never Felt Like This."
Stop, Dave, stop!
In an epically ironic twist last week, the Clark County Health District closed down its own cafeteria, for failure to meet its own health codes. The cafeteria received a grade of a B in August, but must make an A to stay in business. County Chief Health Officer Dr. Donald Kwalick says they don't have the $200,000 needed to correct the problems, which include a refrigerator that's not cold enough, not enough room around a sink and dirty floors and walls. Tune in next week for tales of the police station that was robbed, the fire station that caught fire and the cranberry juice factory that caught a urinary tract infection.
"What happens in Mexico/Stays in Mexico"
—Lyrics from the chorus of that internationally beloved country singer Toby Keith's latest hit. We don't know whether the Vegas ad team gets any royalties.
This week's Nevada Beehive pops the effervescing cap on a long-debated, much maligned issue: Latter-Day Saints and caffeine. The statement of the week, if not century, in the expose: "There is nothing that stirs controversy more than the topic of caffeine in the LDS church."
Perhaps someone should've checked for crossed fingers when the Davari brothers—whose six Houston strip clubs have been flagged for so many illegalities that cops chould turn the dressing room into a holding pen, promised to straighten up and fly right with their $15 million Treasures gentlemen's club. Their attorney Mark Fiorentino told the City Council to snatch the license if any dancers were convicted of sexual misconduct.
Four prostitution-related arrests later—but no convictions, yet—and Treasures is still operating. Our sitting counselors postponed to Sept. 15 their decision on licensing to Sept. 15 to allow time to review financial records for federal cash-reporting improprieties and, suddenly, what seems like an open (zipper) and shut case is meandering along. Hmmm.
Gray Matters thinks something is brewing—and it ain't beer. Why's it taking so long for a decision and why the postponement, since Fiorentino's promise had nothing to do with possible financial errors? Hmmm.
Gray Matters thinks it knows: Yanking Treasures' license would put the mayor's son, Ross, and sitting counselor Michael Mack, out of jobs (attorney and flak, respectively). Gray Matters wouldn't be surprised if the Davaris escape with a wrist-slap.
Come Sunday, UNLV's football team might need the defrocked priest with the penchant for disrupting sports events—he push-attacked Brazilian marathoner Vanderlei de Lima Sundary night during the Athens Olympics and, last year, ran on the track during the British Grand Prix, forcing Formula One racers, driving at 200 mph, to swerve around him. Twenty-point underdogs to 14th-ranked Tennessee, the Rebels will be playing in front 105,000.