Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, November 28, 1993 TAG: 9311300355
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: B3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Margie Fisher Editorial Writer
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
It occurs to me, though, that we may be fast approaching a time when the nation's entire economy will be built and depend on family-oriented theme parks. I'm sorry to report that it's already happening in Las Vegas.
Yes, Vegas - the town that Bugsy built - is making a family-oriented spectacle of itself. Of course, it's always been a spectacle - its Glitter Gulch the only place in the world where its favorite son, the late Liberace, could pass as a conservative dresser. But in years past, the appeal of its ostentatiousness was its tacky naughtiness, the adults-only flavor of its famous Strip's tease show. When I visited there recently, its old decadence had all but disappeared.
In its place was a high-tech, laser-beamed, virtual-reality paradise of family values.
Oh, a few hotels still have the classic Ziegfield-style reviews featuring Vegas showgirls wearing boas and little else to cover up their goose bumps. In the casinos, they still ply gamblers with free drinks. And these windowless caverns may be the last place in America where smokers are not exiled. (Bowing to political correctness, the casinos may offer a row or two of smoke-free slots, but gamblers, it seems, are more willing than most people to take their chances on second-hand smoke.)
Generally, though, Vegas is now pitching wholesomeness. The city, understandably, is more eager to host the Southern Baptist Convention then the Tailhook Convention, so it's cleaned up its act. All the major hotels, and several still on the drawing board, have reinvented themselves as enclosed theme parks to rival anything Disney ever built. Judging from the large numbers of children you see everywhere, it's a winning tourism strategy.
A sampling: At the Mirage, one of the most profitable hotels in the world, there is a volcano that shoots off a red mist every 15 minutes; there's an indoor rain forest; there's a dolphin pool. The Mirage is also home to rare white tigers that perform in the evenings. There are also nightly performances of the Cirque du Soleil, a mix of circus acts, dance, theater and music, billed as "pure and innocent fun for all ages."
Soon to open is the Luxor, including a giant sphinx and pyramid larger than their models in Egypt, and a 1,750-foot River Nile. There is also Treasure Island, with a $12 million pirate ship and pirate village. There's the Grand Slam Canyon, with sandstone cliffs, waterfalls and a double-loop indoor roller coaster.
MGM Grand is under construction as the biggest hotel in the world. Off the Strip, in downtown Vegas, seven older casinos will soon be joined as the Fremont Street Experience, under a man-made sky filled with electric stars. The shopping mall at Caesars Palace is itself a theme park. It's also covered by a vault of man-made sky, where the sunshine periodically gives way to clouds, thunder and lightning, and Roman statues at the mall's big fountains come alive to put on a show for shoppers.
(With so much to see and do, my friend and I could hardly find time to get to the casinos. Oh, well. For me, they've lost a lot of their appeal anyway. The old one-armed bandits - where you manually put in a quarter, pulled a lever, waited and hoped for three cherries, toots, whistles and the rain of coins into your lap - have been replaced by computerized, whizbang video versions. No more pulling levers. You just push buttons. If you get ahead by a couple of dollars, you don't even have to put in more coins. The computer will bet away your winnings for you. These high-tech gizmos don't pay any better than the old relics, and they've taken the sport out of losing.)
I have to ask myself: Is this theme-park mania a killjoy in disguise?
Why bother any longer to go see the real Grand Canyon? Why dream of traveling around the world to see real pyramids across the real Nile, or going to Italy to see real Roman statues and fountains? Will children get as excited seeing real volcanos or real rain forests after they've seen Vegas?
Now, Disney's America plans to remold much of this nation's heritage - the Civil War, the history of slavery - into plastic in Prince William County. Doubtless, it will be a huge tourist attraction and commercial success, and every city and county in Virginia will try to emulate it.
I can see it now: A coalfield theme park in Southwest Virginia, with simulated, virtual-reality mining disasters. Amusement parks with poverty themes in Appalachia. In Southside, no more need for furniture manufacturers. They can have a furniture theme park.
Virginia Tech, which once concentrated on helping real farmers grow better crops and breed better cows, can forget about that because there'll be no farmers left. Instead, Tech will operate a humongous agricultural theme park. It may look like a farm, sound like a farm, smell like a farm - but, of course, tourist dollars will make it exceedingly profitable and Tech can control it all via computers from its Electronic Village.
What's in this trend for Roanoke? Perhaps all those empty buildings on Campbell Avenue can be pressed into the service of tourism. The city could re-create a downtown theme park with several movie theaters, department stores and nickel-and-dime stores. It would draw nostalgia buffs from every state, and amaze children who think downtowns have always been parking-garage theme parks.
Heck, maybe this newspaper can become a family-vacation hot spot. Instead of gathering and publishing news each day, our reporters and editors can dress up like reporters and editors and put on shows about newspapering. Anyone who is still actually interested in the news can call Infoline, but don't bother us - we'll be too busy being tour guides.
by CNB