COMMENTARY
If you go to Vegas, don't bring the keiki
By Christie Wilson
Advertiser Staff Writer
I hadn't been to Las Vegas in decades, and all the guide books said it had evolved into a great place for a family vacation.
Well, we're back, and here's my No. 1 tip for taking the kids to Las Vegas:
Don't take the kids to Las Vegas.
The town that never sleeps has been working hard, and quite successfully, to promote itself as a family destination. This is a deceit. All the rollercoasters, Imax 3-D rides, white tigers and pirate battles cannot disguise the fact that Las Vegas was, is and always will be about gambling.
If Las Vegas were sincere about welcoming families, they wouldn't force you to drag your kids through the casino every time you want to go somewhere. And where are the childcare centers and kiddie camps so common at almost every Hawai'i resort?
What they are really doing is indoctrinating future gamblers. From a pint-sized perspective, casinos must resemble Fun Factory on steroids, with acres of slot machines flashing friendly brand names such as Monopoly, Yahtze and Wheel of Fortune. I was very uncomfortable exposing my children at every turn to this greed-fueled environment, and a little disturbed that the fact I had brought them there made me complicit.
Also, it crimped my style.
Since the kids, ages 13 and 7, were too young to be left alone, my husband and I adopted a tag-team approach to gambling. He would go down to the casino for an hour or so to try his luck, then it would be my turn.
The result was constant clock-watching and distraction. We felt deprived and tried to sneak some quality time with the slots every chance we got.
As we walked through the casino on our way out somewhere, one of us would discreetly peel off from the family unit to drop a quick $20 in the slots before catching up. Another $20 would be deposited while waiting for the kids to finish their business in the restroom. We played cat-and-mouse with the casino floor managers, beating a hasty retreat as they swooped in because we had lingered too long with our kids.
This kind of stealth gambling was wholly unsatisfying, although it may have kept our losses to a minimum. Plus, it was difficult to impart the message that gambling is evil while kicking up your heels every time the slots hit and rushing back to the room waving a fistful of twenties.
Las Vegas exposed an unseemly side of myself that I'd rather have kept from my children.
We'd be finishing up a meal, and I'd nonchalantly announce, "I'm going to wash my hands. I'll be right back." An hour later I'd spot them on the perimeter of the casino, sullenly cooling their heels.
It got to the point where the 7-year-old wouldn't let me out of his sight. "I know where you're going," he'd say in a plaintive voice, tugging at my arm. "You're going to ditch us again."
Conflict was inevitable. They wanted to go to the arcade, we wanted to gamble. Arcade! Gamble! Arcade! Gamble! On and on it went until we were all pouting.
About those highly touted family activities: The rides and attractions in Las Vegas are poor imitations of what Disneyland, Universal Studios or Knott's Berry Farm has to offer. Kids who have been to those places will be sorely disappointed. They're not cheap, either. A single ride on the Manhattan Express roller coaster at New York-New York costs $10.50, for instance, and tickets for Lance Burton's magic show are $60 per person. And, you'll find way better swimming pools at any number of Hawai'i resorts.
Another bad thing (or great thing?) about Las Vegas is the free flow of alcohol, and I'm not just talking about the complimentary cocktails or lax city ordinances that allow you to stroll the Strip with a drink in hand.
This is the land of margaritas-by-the-yard, and where grown men sip booze through a straw from drink containers the actual size and shape of footballs.
On two occasions at dinner, one at a very swanky hotel, we were unable to carry on a conversation because of noisy drunks at the next table. I hope my kids got the message that drinking is bad, but maybe it just looked to them like those people were having a lot of fun.
Then there's the inescapable menace of cigarette smoke. Two hotels that largely promote themselves as family-friendly — Circus Circus and Excalibur — seemed to have the worst secondhand smoke problems, by my unscientific smell test.
The Nevada tourism promoters are right: Las Vegas is a playground. But it's a playground for grown-ups.
The only reason to go there is to gamble, so why bring the kids? Why bring them face to face with vice at such a tender age? Why ruin a good time for the adults?
Leave the keiki at home or drop them with auntie in San Diego for a few days while you head for the desert. Or, if you must travel with children, surrender your will for the good of the family and do the Southern California thing, visit one of our country's spectacular national parks, or look closer to home and take a break at a well-equipped resort in Hawai'i.
It's a safe bet that you'll all have a better time.
Christie Wilson is the Advertiser Neighbor Island editor. Reach her at cwilson@honoluluadvertiser.com or (808) 244-4880.
