"I hope it's not as bad as it sounds," Oscar Goodman said the other day, thoughtfully supplying a theme for this column and every one to follow. It's hard to recall exactly what he was talking about—the buffet line at Wynn Las Vegas? Runaway brides appearing on the Strip instead of Downtown? Perhaps the newly freed Sandy Murphy got stuck on the stalled monorail and missed her deadline for a Milennium Scholarship to get through cosmetology school—I can't be sure. So much was in the air in the past week. As we all know, Las Vegas is a smorgasbord of rich tapestries of overflowing cornucopias of things that are probably worse than they sound.
For instance: the case of accused murderer Reyes Olivares, who, according to the Sun last week, killed his boss, Vaughn Russell, because he thought Russell was a witch who "cast a spell on him with flatulence, which placed Olivares in 'immediate fear of his safety,' according to a police report."
Demon flatulence—now there's a theme I can work with. It certainly gusted mightily at the opening of Wynn Las Vegas. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience," gushed an onlooker, whom we calculate to be under 7; that's how long it's been since Bellagio's once-in-a-lifetime debut. Me, I recall at least 10 casino openings; one more and I'll achieve nirvana. "Mr. Wynn has raised the bar again," said Tim Poster, once a Golden Nugget golden boy. "We didn't even know an opening was a 'thing,'" someone told Sun columnist Susan Snyder. Actually it's so much more than a "thing": "It was meant to be discovered," Wynn said of his resort—which, to be truthful, is a right swanky place—"it's about first, second and third impressions."
J.C. Campbell, a Wynn exec, left quite an impression—with his Porsche, on another car, the night of the opening. Allegedly drunk, he tried to drive away, dragging a cop. His wife, a city council aide, attempted to use her position to block the arrest—perhaps she didn't know that drinking and driving was a "thing."
As all this was going on, outgoing school superintendent Carlos Garcia was bopping Nevadans for not funding education. "We're in a cheap state," he said, "which doesn't want to make the tough decisions." He clearly hasn't checked the stickers at Wynn's Ferrari dealership.
Elsewhere in education: On Friday, when the devotional chanting stopped and the puff of white smoke went up, we learned the regents had selected interim chancellor Jim Rogers to head the university system, under his new name, Pious the First. Apparently his first, second and third impressions were enough to forestall any real search for outside candidates. "You don't change horses midstream," Cardinal Doug Hill—wait, he's a regent—said. "Mr. Rogers is the right person at the right time and the right place." Hypothetically: Say you were midstream on a horse, and the right man came along at the right time; shouldn't you jump onto his shoulders ... and would you take your saddle ... oh, never mind. Why make the tough decisions when you can save time and money—we're in a cheap state, after all—and hire the devil you know. It can't be as bad as it sounds, can it?
Let's Do the Math! |
+5 Wynn Las Vegas opens; media-starved city finally gets some much-needed attention. People are reading about us in Canada!
+1 Shoshone Indians enter tribal myths into anti-Yucca suit. Gov't spokeswoman worries site will "fall into disrepair."
-2 Angry letter-writers threaten tax revolt unless they get refunds, and to hell with Millennium Scholarships.
-2 Republic Services proposes once-a-week trash pickup: think of the smell; think of the lost job opportunities for onetime Millennium Scholarship recipients
Final score
+2
Thursdays with Oscar |
We attend the mayor's weekly press conference so you don't have to
April 28
Major themes: I'm an interesting mayor! (1); children are precious (2)
Summary: Kids packed the City Council chambers(2) because it was Take Your Child to Work Day in addition to being Mayor Bares Fangs at Media Day.
The gathering began with Goodman's usual rundown of his activities the previous week,(1) which this time involved wooing the NBA all-star game, talking with hospital officials in Pennsylvania about building downtown and meeting with Pennsylvania Gov. Ed Rendell—not about business, but about personal matters; they're old friends.(1) The Junior League pitched their new cookbook, which contains Goodman's recipe for "The Mayor's Meatballs"(1), after which he made his 5,293rd humorous reference to the mob.(1)
The families had to sit to the sides, leaving the middle rows for reporters. (Little girl to adult: "We're not allowed to sit here unless we're the media, whatever that is." Kid, Goodman feels the same way.) Oscar played to the children—explaining that he tried to answer the media's questions "without getting angry"—probably hoping their presence would deflect harsh questions.(2) Didn't work: Face to Face with Jon Ralston producer Dana Gentry asked how "the Goodman women" feel about the mayor photographing a nude woman for Playboy.(1) Answer: They know he's a good guy at heart. Anyway, they know where he keeps his meatballs.
Big surprises: None.
Odd sight: Before the meeting, a man read aloud to his children from what we believe was a Star Wars paperback, although we didn't actually overhear the words "Luke," "Obi-Wan" or "Put on that suit Jabba the Hutt made you wear."
Question we thought of too late to ask: "Hey, it's Bring Your Child to Work Day! Where's Ross?"
Speculative answer: For some lucky kids, every day is Bring Your Child to Work Day!
Random Quote I Couldn't Fit Anywhere Else |
"Although Reid prides himself on rural authenticity, he comes across on television as a long-lost Smothers Brother."
Scott Dickensheets is just a guy with a lot of space to fill. E-mail him at
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