In the days leading up to my flight to Las Vegas I thought incessantly of two songs — Elvis Presley’s “Viva Las Vegas” and Mojo Nixon’s “Elvis is Everywhere.”  For me Vegas was the land of Elvis or, more accurately, Elvis impersonators.  Imagine my disappointment when I didn’t see a single pompadoured, glittery jumpsuit-wearing, middle-aged man anywhere. 

Where were the Elvis wannabes? Where was the campy Vegas that I had imagined?  Twelve years ago, on my first and only other trip there, I hadn’t seen any signs of him then, either.  Had Mr. Presley left the city?  And, if so, who or what had replaced him?

Temples of consumption.  That’s what has usurped the King. Immense, themed hotels filled not only with gaming tables but also with toney restaurants, high end stores, and extremely pricey shows. Anyone who has picked up a magazine or newspaper or turned on his TV in the past 10 years knows of Vegas’s amazing rebirth. And, yet, I still expected to see some hint of the old, cheesy fun.

The Imperial Palace was the closest that I got to this. It was, however, more tacky than fun. I stayed there with my friend Marilee, who was attending a conference and having her college pay for lodging. Hence the choice or lack thereof. 

Located on the strip, this particular college-approved hotel featured a rusted light fixture in the bathroom and mold in the bathtub. For $50 per night we couldn’t demand boxes of truffles on our pillows but I had hoped for a toilet lid.

I should have been thankful.  Online reviews of the Imperial Palace spoke of bedbug bites, horrible smells, non-working plumbing, filth and literally gut-wrenching food.  Beyond the thin sheets, worn towels, dated furniture, and absence of a coffee pot (or toilet lid), our room was okay.     

Things got slightly more interesting once we fled the room. In the casino croupiers dressed as Alice Cooper, Pink and Billy Idol dealt cards and periodically broke into song. ‘With a rebel yell she cried more, more, more.’  More cards?  More money? In our case it would have been more free wine and beer. Anything to numb our senses to the music legends. 

So, while I didn’t encounter the King, I did experience a bit of kitsch at the Imperial Palace. Thankfully, that was all that I found there!