March 13th - M Resort

This time of year in Las Vegas, the temperature flirts with the idea of giving way to sizzling summer heat. The sandals in my closet beckon me. The desire to frolic about town with shoulders and legs bared is overwhelming. I love the heat of Las Vegas. In spite of the arid daylight degrees sucking all of the moisture from my body and downright molesting my hair, I hungrily welcome the Las Vegas nights.

When sun gives way to moon and temps drop to a refreshing 90-something from a daytime high of 100-something, this 30-something rushes out to the nearest pool party, poolside concert, or patio gathering to let the night air swallow me right on up. Visiting the newly established M Resort at the southern most end of Las Vegas Blvd awakened the dormant summer girl in me. Specifically and shamelessly targeting adults aged 30-55, M Resort gives us the wonderful gift of Villaggio Del Sole Pool and Entertainment Piazza. Oh, it's something reminiscent of an Egyptian dream overlooking the expanse of the valley. I must have spent about fifteen minutes just walking around those pools imagining myself rocking out to a Gnarls Barkley concert while sipping a sweet cocktail. On Friday night however, the desert breeze was whipping around fiercely and so I made my way back inside thinking three words.... I'll be back.

Inside, the casino floor was bustling with activity. The place has just been open for a week, but their extensive ad campaign and big ass blimp floating around in the sky made it very difficult for curious locals to stay way. I'd heard that the casino was terribly understaffed and that was evident from the thirty minutes it took simply to place an order for my signature vodka martini with extra olives. No worries. I settled into a barstool at Ravello Lounge next to an older gentlemen named Charles who was visibly annoyed at the lounge entertainment. Totally blogworthy.

I guess from time to time, we locals tend to forget about the fabled Las Vegas lounge act. We're usually rushing through a casino to get to a Cirque Du Soleil show or a concert or a party. We tend to ignore the tourists drunkenly simulating dance in front of an ambiguously talented cover band. I firmly believe the only requirements for scoring a lounge gig is good looks and no fear. Alcohol consumptionm, on the part of the audience, totally takes care of the rest. Thus before me at the Ravello Lounge was a band that closely resembled The Brady Bunch, dressed in white, covering tunes made popular by Earth, Wind & Fire, Morris Day and The Time, and Rick James. Charles sat next to me rolling his eyes so hard I thought he was going to fall right out of his tool. He looked at the expression on my face believing me to mirror his feelings of the band sucking. Actually, I thought that the musicians played very well and I was wondering what I needed to do to petition one of these casinos to let me dance around on stage singing off key for four straight sets.

Charles was as a promoter of sorts. Hailing from Northern California, he had retired from a full time career of coordinating concerts and performances of the R&B and Soul persuasion. Now, as a four year Henderson resident, he was attempting to entice M Resort to have acts comparable to Tower of Power perform out on that luscious piazza. You see, Charles had successfully arranged for sold-out showings at such venues as Eastside Cannery and The Orleans and he was totally frustrated that M Resort would hear none of his ideas for entertainment. Charles felt the M Resort stood to lose out on a solid audience of 60+ year olds. He was sure that if his agemates came to hear The Brady Bunch, they would collect both their gambling dollars and their air tanks and promptly leave. Poor Charles.

I didn't want him to sit there growing increasingly upset especially after a collection of the target demo gathered in front of the stage to jeck back and forth to a cover of Sweet Home Alabama. As carefully as I could, I explained to Charles the difference between the crowd at Eastside Cannery and M Resort. They weren't discriminating against him or good entertainment. Rather, they were seeking a very specific audience not unlike that which frequents Red Rock Casino and Green Valley Ranch. I finished my martini and shook Charles's hand. I'm pretty sure he called me a few kinds of assholes as I walked away. Afterall, I had just rained on his Chi-Liting parade.

There was no reason to stay any longer. After slapping the drummer a hi-five, I made my way through the casino floor towards the parking lot. I love how casinos decorate with varying textures and patterns. Even when the place is devoid of bodies, it still manages to look alive. Perhaps, after I score a lounge-singing gig I can sit in on a few color scheme meetings for the next new resort.