Uplifting Towards a New Low

Nadir of All Game Shows

Something about game shows has always fascinated me. Not the ones that test intellectual ability or even trivia knowledge, but the shows that reward inane, silly, and asinine behavior. The outgrowth of shows where people dress outrageously has been the so-called "reality shows," in which people demonstrate behaviors that are designed to shock and awe. But just because it is not my cup of humiliation does not mean that many others feel the same. Those shows consistently get high ratings - the more outlandish and self-deprecating, the better the ratings.

Just when I thought it could not get any more depraved or sick, a new competition debuted in Las Vegas. The object of the show is for contestants to qualify for free breast implants. The show is called, "Boobs or Bust 2: Go Big or Go Home." The contest, such as it was, took place at the Jet nightclub inside the Mirage. The contest featured has-been and wanna-be celebrities to get the hype going.

The "game" is played by providing funny money, which is called "boob bucks" to "gentlemen" in bottle-service booths inside the club. These guys are low end high rollers who pay $ 600 for a bottle of booze and consider themselves what in the old days would be called "the cat's meow." The 50 or so contestants become as flirtatious as possible in order to secure as many bucks as possible. The one with the most bucks at the end of the game wins a $ 5,000 "enhancement."

The game is as old as mankind. Women audition for men in hopes of attracting enough attention to turn his wiles into a long term relationship - but in this case, "long term" lies in the eyes - or chest - of the beholder. The contest continues until the very wee hours of the morning when three potential winners move to center stage to count the bucks secured from the bucks. A winner is declared, takes the check and giggles her way offstage. Only in Las Vegas? Maybe so, maybe not, but I'm not sure such a game show would play in Peoria. Ok maestro, do the first fer lines from "Money... The best things in life are free, but you can leave them to the birds and bees, I want money....."

Dr. Forgot

Aussies Get Canned In Vegas

A Crown in the Can

Las Vegas continues to be invaded by immigrants. Just as many local companies decided to try their luck in the new, hot Asian market, a group from Australia called Crown, Ltd. made a nearly $ 2 billion purchase of the Cannery Casino Resorts. The purchase caught many locals and Vegas watchers a bit off guard as the Cannery recently topped off construction on its newest casino on Boulder Highway, the former Nevada Palace. The Cannery casino opened a few years ago in North Las Vegas, adding to plethora of successful off-Strip neighborhood casinos in the Valley of the Dollars. Shortly thereafter the management team took over operations at the mucho upscale J.W. Marriott casino in Summerlin. The same group is also building a casino next to the Meadows Race Track outside Pittsburgh scheduled to open in 2009.

The fellows from the land of kangaroos are jumping with joy. They have been trying to enter the US gaming market for some time and apparently found their entry with the deal. No word yet on whether they will put a shrimp on the barbie in Cannery restaurants but the outback boys seem to be ecstatic over the deal which will take an estimated 18 months to fully consummate.

The announced deal will not be completed immediately. Gaming licenses must be obtained in Nevada and Pennsylvania. Crown is no stranger to the resort and gaming business. They have a couple of high class joints on their home turf as well as part ownership in casinos in Macau, Canada, and the United Kingdom. But the Cannery and J.W. Marriott casinos will clearly be the Crown jewels.

We predict that the deal will not only bring thunder from Down Under, it will bring marketing of Aussies to Las Vegas in order to gamble in "their" casinos. Crown owner, billionaire James Packer has a bloodline whose DNA runs deep in Las Vegas. His papa was a well known high roller on the Strip. Legend has it that Papa Koala Bear once walked away from the MGM Grand with nearly $ 40 million in winnings over several days. Junior of course plans to be on the other side of the casino cage. A little blogging music maestro... how about "Pennies From Heaven?"

Dr. Forgot

Fickle Gamblers

Kiss, Kiss, Bye - Bye

Gamblers are a fickle lot, not unlike other consumers. Many pine for the good old days even though others say the good old days are old, but were not as good as the legends purport. Stories abound of the relationship between gamblers and casino owners. One in particular tells of a high roller (they were not called whales in those days) who gambled away all his money. In those days there were no cell phones nor ATMs, which may have been a good thing for the habitual gambler. But, as the story goes, the casino owner put his arm around the shoulder of the drunken busted high roller, comped him dinner, and paid for his return airline ticket. Those little things endeared players to casinos just as surely as bonus points and free samples endear high spenders today to upscale stores today.

But make no mistake. If a shopper finds a better deal elsewhere s/he will scamper there faster than you can say, "customer loyalty." As corporate stores replaced mom and pop stores it became easier for individuals to shop elsewhere without feeling guilty. Ditto casinos. Just as Howard Hughes might have run the mob out of Las Vegas casinos, so have corporations run out the individual owner for the most part. That put the gambler one step farther away from the casino owner and customer loyalty took a hit.

Further encouraging the fickle gambler to take his business elsewhere was the opening of casino gambling in New Jersey. No longer was a four hour plane ride required to pull a handle or double down. The Las Vegas casinos moaned a bit but continued to reinvent themselves by offering other attractions and making the Vegas experience even grander. But another setback in the life occurred as Indian casinos began to compete for the gaming dollar. Still, shows and top name performers as well as new, even grander hotels, broader-based events, and conventions again reinvented the Vegas experience as visitor numbers continued to climb.

New Jersey didn't follow the Las Vegas model of continuous review and reinvention and as has Las Vegas and find themselves in the midst of a fall in gaming revenue. As betting and slot parlors open in New York and Pennsylvania, gamblers find it no longer necessary to fight the traffic to get to Atlantic City. Those staying away are some of New Jersey's best customers. The result is that for 10 of the last 11 months revenue has fallen.

Gaming has more competitors than ever. Internet gaming as well as some sort of games of chance available in 48 states offer plenty of choices. No longer are a handful of establishments the only games in town. A little blogging music maestro.... "Don't it make my brown eyes blue..."

Dr. Forgot

Abuse and Exploitation of Immigrants

Still They Come

Las Vegas has grown by the tens of thousands of new residents over the past decade. In 19 out of the past 20 years the Valley of the Dollars has been the fastest growing community in the US. From a sleepy little desert town whose claim to fame was that it served as a pit stop between Salt Lake City and Los Angeles the area has grown to a population of two million. Nearly all the newcomers are from other localities and many are from outside US borders. That's the way its always been. As immigration becomes an issue throughout the country it continues to be an issue locally and statewide.

One group of immigrants has recently become more vocal about immigrant abuse and exploitation. They come here to offer whatever skills they might possess in an effort to make the Valley a better place. They work hard and ask little in return but many find themselves being taken advantage of because of their hard work ethic and their immigration status. Employers often force the immigrants to work many hours beyond what is considered a normal workweek, cheat them out of pay and threaten them with deportation if they dare complain. The immigrants, for the most part suffer in silence and work the long hours in hopes of someday overcoming their immigration status. One day perhaps they could earn a coveted green card or become citizens of the United States and practice their trade without such harsh oversight and conditions.

By now you as a reader should have formed a visual of the hapless immigrants who toil under conditions cited above. What type of work are they doing that is so demanding? There is not a landscaper among them, nor a maid nor a bricklayer nor a construction worker, nor any similar tradesman. The group which I describe does not hail from Latin America for the most part but from India. They are highly educated in the best universities as physicians, surgeons, and other medical personnel. And they have come to America to practice under a federally sponsored immigration program called J-1 Medical Doctor Approval Waiver.

J-1 doctors are subject to a requirement under section 212(e) of the Immigration and Nationality Act to return to their last country of residence for two years before becoming eligible for the H1B permanent residence (green card). Waivers from the two year residency requirement can be obtained by doctors who agree to work for an employer under a government sponsored program. Doctors must agree to serve in medically undeserved rural and urban areas. A recent investigation by a local newspaper revealed that some doctors were overworked, underpaid and assigned to clinics in areas that were not undeserved - all of which is in violation of state guidelines and federal law.

One doctor who complained said his employer took advantage of his immigration status to financially cheat him then threatened to have the doctor and his family deported if he did not agree to extend his employment contract and guarantee a loan to finance the clinic in which he worked. Information gathered in the investigation resulted in further investigations by state officials.

Of the 55 or so doctors currently in the midst of working toward the J-1 waiver it is difficult to find many who will overtly complain for fear of damaging their immigration status. Such is the power wielded over them by employers. Even doctors who have obtained their green cards and received the J-1 waiver are reluctant to speak, especially in a public forum for fear of professional reprisals.

This country was built by immigrants. Those who accept the lowliest jobs perhaps can find some solace in the fact that some of the same issues they have faced are encountered by the most educated, able, and professional immigrants. Lou Dobbs, where are you when we need you?

Dr. Forgot

Vegas Justice

Dis-Order in the Court(house)

The Las Vegas judicial system is like every other judicial system in the US - overworked, overburdened, and overwhelmed. Despite the national coverage when OJ Simpson was recently charged the average alleged lawbreaker has to wait his or her turn for justice. Two years ago a brand new Regional Justice Center was opened at a cost of $ 185 million and the old courthouse was cast aside like a deserted ex-wife. Here come 'da judge but there aren't enough courtrooms.

Some years ago I saw a play titled "Hot L Baltimore." The setting was a once-proud dilapidated old fleabag hotel. In its heyday the neon sign proudly announced "Hotel Baltimore," but as the building went to seed so did the neon sign's letter "e" in Hotel. Although not done in neon, such is the case with the sign in the old courthouse that reads, "Eighth Judicia District Court."

The problem is that as the population of Las Vegas continues grow at a pace of five to six thousand newbies per month, (the Valley just surpassed the 2-million mark) services of all types including legal services are needed. The new judicial digs have not yet celebrated birthday #2 and are already bursting at the seems like Baby Huey. The wheels of justice got fresh grease but they're moving as slow as ever.

The new place is not exactly Mayberry size. The Center is more than 711,000 square feet (that number is sooooo Vegas) and stands 18 floors. (Why not 21 floors in keeping with the Las Vegas theme?) But it seems the space has crapped out and those who are being tried are stacked up tighter than a dealers 4 deck shoe. In a little more than a year six new District Court judges are scheduled to be added to the docket. Getting a prompt court date looks to be harder than making 12 straight passes on the craps table.

Here's an idea: Las Vegas loves to tout itself as a 24-hour town. Casinos, hotels, restaurants, clubs, gas stations, pharmacies, grocery stores, and even convenience stores are open 24/7. Want a quart of milk at 3 a.m.? No problem. Want to dance the night away until the sun comes up and later then go out for breakfast? You've got plenty of choices. Taxis and buses are at your beck and call any time. No blue laws or last calls at local watering holes. So why not make the court system available around the clock? Police are already on the job day and night. Why not judges and lawyers?

Utilizing the courthouses more efficiently will at least double the availability of courtrooms without adding a single one. It may be an idea whose time has come. How about a little blogging music maestro. Can you do a few bars of "Rock Around the Clock?"

Dr. Forgot

Ocean's 14

7-7-7 Busted!

Those of a certain age can remember the Rat Pack in Las Vegas, Sammy, Frank, Deano and the boys hung out at the old Sands, now just a memory where the Venetian now stands. Local legend has it that Frank got a little too rambunctious one night and was slugged by a Sands floorman. Not sure of the veracity of the story but over the years I've med probably a dozen local who claim to have been related to the floorman. He must have had a big family.

The Rat Pack was highly popular during the heady days of Las Vegas and they made a movie about a group of slick players who robbed a Las Vegas hotel. The movie was called Ocean's 11 and became a cult hit for Las Vegas visitors. Decades later the movie was remade followed by sequels Ocean's 12 and Ocean's 13. Recently a real life happening has occurred which, were it a movie, would be called Ocean's 14. Of course this one is not nearly as romantic as the others. Nobody breaks into a vault. Julia Roberts doesn't flash any skin, and neither Frank Sinatra nor George Clooney are around to make teens and middle aged housewives swoon.

In the old days slot machines ate coins and spit them out when jackpots were won. In the interest of progress, however, coins are still able to eat coins, as well as dollars and chits issued by the casinos, but they only pay out paper tickets that must then be cashed in. It is not clear if the slot machines get indigestion by not being able to pass their coins when jackpots are hit but casinos save lots of coins by not having to pay change persons and others to attend the machines and pay jackpots that exceed the number of coins held by a machine.

In the real version a group of high tech computer nerds who were employed by the casino to work the slots were able to manipulate software in slot machines to print out phony jackpot payouts on tickets. Confederates posed as customers and cashed the tickets in. Gaming regulators estimate the thefts have gone on for more than a year and one hotel had been taken for more than a million.

Unlike the movie version the crooks were caught. At least one has pled guilty and agreed to pay restitution. But locals take this robbing the casinos stuff very seriously. Felony theft carries a maximum prison sentence of ten years in the hoosegow. It is estimated that casinos lose about six percent of their revenue to in house crooks. If you are considering trying to break the casino with a scheme, be careful, you just might end up doing hard time. A little blogging music maestro... how about "Jailhouse Rock."

Dr. Forgot

Well Buck My Bronco

Events For You, Buckaroo

A quarter century ago the weeks preceding Christmas were pretty quiet round about the Valley of the Dollars. Showrooms were dark. Entertainers left town to be with their families, and folks who would mosey on down to the casino any other time of the year would stay home or go somewhere else. Then some dude who probably drove a pick-em up truck got an idea how to change all that. A delegation from the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority ambled on down to the headquarters of the National Finals Rodeo (NFR), sashayed into the offices and sat a spell with the head honchos of the NFR. Those dudes had a problem - the annual Rodeo Finale was getting too big for its Oklahoma britches. Brahmas and little dogies needed more room, not to mention the crowd that had to be shoehorned into the arena.

When they left the headquarters, the hindquarters of all the participants - cowboys, cattle, and conventioneers had a 10-year deal to saddle up their ponies in Las Vegas. The deal has been extended and for the past 23 years what had been nigh a ghost town in December saw thousands of people and millions of dollars pour into the winter economy.

The rodeo crowd is a great one. Cowboys have this way of talking straight. No fancy jawing or whistling Dixie, they say what they mean and mean what they say. And lots of those buckaroos and buckarettes who come to watch the Rodeo Finals sit high on their wallets. If you think bluejeans and shirts that snap are low-end clothing, you have not seen the outfits at the NFR. The past 22 years of hosting the event has brought an estimated $ 650 million to local coffers. Not too shabby for two weeks that used to be as lively as a graveyard on New Years morning.

The town changes its outfit for the rodeofiles just as quickly and completely as the Convention Center changes its motif for each convention. The main venue is where UNLV basketball plays its home games, which are, of course, never played during these two weeks. Hotels bring in entertainment that is far less hip-hop and lots more country and western. Mechanical bulls are brought into bars. There is even a Cowboy Christmas Show that is sort of like a swap meet but with nearly all products having a cowboy theme - hat blockers, boot shiners, western clothing and art for sale, etc. The entire ambiance of what is glitter and tinsel based for 50 weeks out of the year brings Las Vegas back to its old time western roots.

Participants vie for cash prizes in the tens of thousands of dollars. The entire rodeo is worth $ 5.5 million, and that ain't hay. So if you mosey on up to Las Vegas this week don't fret if all you see are big ole belt buckles, jeans, and rhinestone-studded denim jackets. Pardner, this is the 2007 National Finals Rodeo. How about a little blogging music maestro-dude.... do ya' know "Don't Fence Me In?"Dr. Forgot