I'm not much for bling, so I waved him away and plodded onward into the air-conditioned rear entrance. I followed a corridor, past a surprisingly tranquil little garden surrounded by a tall atrium of hotel rooms and into a large, busy area, where a woman droned numbers while conducting the Strip's only bingo game.

Farther on, I found bars, a fast-food court, slot machines, gaming tables, restaurants — all in a dimness that defied the glaring sunlight out on the Las Vegas Strip.

Outside, at last, I could gaze up at New Frontier's magnificent retro-Vegas neon-lit marquee.

Not only did it boast the "only bingo on the Strip," the sign still had plenty of room to tout Gilley's Night Club and it featured "Bikini Bull Riding" one night and "Cold Beer Dirty Girls Mud Wrestling Live" on another.

That hotel is an example of the Las Vegas establishment that doesn't change its style — although it may spruce up the guest rooms and keep the swimming pool nice. Places like New Frontier contribute their fair share to the 78,473 hotel units available, or available soon, on the Strip (counting Wynn Las Vegas' 2,700, which won't be ready until April), but, of course, the old-timers are largely overshadowed.

The big, big players, the really huge players, insist on churning out new things — restaurants, bars, towering additions, even changing identities — while talking merger and acquisition: MGM Mirage intends to buy out Mandalay Bay Resort Group. Harrah's Entertainment Inc. will buy out Caesars Entertainment. Those very big deals could take place next year after the Federal Trade Commission and the Securities and Exchange Commission determine that every "t" has been crossed and every "i" dotted.

The Aladdin Resort and Casino recently changed hands and now belongs to a group led by Planet Hollywood kingpin Robert Earl. After two years of renovations, plans call for Aladdin to shed its 1,001 Nights theme and re-emerge as the Planet Hollywood Hotel.

In Las Vegas, MGM Mirage owns Bellagio, MGM Grand, the Mirage, Treasure Island ("TI"), New York New York, Boardwalk Hotel and Casino, and half of Monte Carlo (50 percent owned by Mandalay Bay). After the takeover from Mandalay Bay, MGM Mirage will add the other half of Monte Carlo, the Mandalay Bay hotel complex, Luxor, Excalibur, Circus Circus and Slots-A-Fun (a hotel-free casino).

Harrah's Las Vegas properties are Binion's Horseshoe downtown, Harrah's and Rio. It also owns casinos all across the country. With the Caesars buyout, it would add to its Las Vegas holdings Bally's, Caesars Palace, Flamingo and the Paris Hotel/Casino.

So, what's new?

Even if the giants divide up most of the Strip, they can't rest on their almost-monopolies. The hotels must keep changing or risk losing value when another round of buyouts comes along. Besides, gamblers can find action almost everywhere in the United States. People come to Las Vegas for the unique vibes, and they come again because they expect something they've never seen before.

(This year, one of my goals was to see the new monorail that connects the east side of the Strip with the Las Vegas Convention Center. Unfortunately, service had been stopped because of a series of breakdowns.)

Sprinkled among the corporate behemoths, regulars still find casino hotels like New Frontier, Westward Ho, Casino Royale and Barbary Coast — unchanged, familiar, like old friends for those whose tastes run in that direction (and considerably cheaper than Caesars or Bellagio). The old Las Vegas still lives on in their dark, smoky casinos and 99-cent margaritas.

But the big stars must always be bringing something different to the table. That became clear during a tour of Bellagio led by Catherine Siefert, director of hotel training and guest relations.

We strolled through the noisy gaming area with its vaguely Italianate woodwork. Siefert cheerfully pointed out new details, large and small: a different carpet pattern on the floor, a new restaurant called FIX ("wonderful, when you want something nice but not necessarily full gourmet"), the gold sconces slowly giving way to sconces of brushed nickel.

We headed upstairs to look at newly refurbished guest rooms. Next year, Bellagio will open a 928-room Spa Tower. In the meantime, crews have been gutting and outfitting rooms in the original tower, which opened in what Las Vegas progressives consider the Dark Ages: 1998.

Six years ago, Bellagio's then-owner Steve Wynn apparently was trying for a somewhat flowery and gilt-framed northern Italian ambience in the guest rooms. That look is fast disappearing. Siefert opened the doors on a couple of makeovers, revealing marble entryways, muted gray fabrics and dark woods, flat-screen TVs, subtle patterns, remote-control drapes.

Keeping up with others

As an MGM Mirage publicist explained to me one day, the redone rooms in the original building will match the décor of those in the new Spa Tower. "That way, no one can say, 'I want one of the new rooms,' " she explained. "All the rooms will be new."

In the hallways, Siefert said, the rather busy trim would give way to something more modern and, of course, those gold sconces would be replaced. Unwanted items go to a liquidator who manages to find a market for thousands of such slightly dated things. This isn't waste, Siefert insisted.

"We're always trying to reinvent Bellagio for our guests — trying to make it new," she said. "There are so many properties that are remodeling or going up around us, so we want to make sure we aren't left behind."

I asked her if I could see one of the big suites that high-rollers sometimes earn if they keep a lot of money circulating in the casino.

On one of the high floors we entered a dazzling suite lined with windows and commanding a view of parking lots, warehouses, arena rooftops, other casinos and bare desert. That's pretty much the gamut of Vegas scenery if you rise too high above the ground.

The suite's rooms were done in Original Bellagio and won't be modernized until 2005. We were overwhelmed with flower patterns in the sitting area, dramatically hung draperies and ornate woodwork.

"It kind of reminds me of a dollhouse," Siefert said. "That's why I like it."

She showed me the his-and-hers bathrooms, the massive bed piled high with lavender pillows and comforter, the wet bar big enough to serve as a small kitchen. Non-high-rollers may rent the place for $1,500 a night, maybe less during slow periods.

I couldn't see the nine villas that go to ultra-high-rollers, because they were occupied. "We have three three-bedrooms and six two-bedrooms, ranging from 6,000 to 8,000 square feet," Siefert told me. "Those are magnificent. Those we'll sell to the public, depending on availability, for $4,000 to $6,000 (a night). And, of course, you get your limousine service from the airport and back."

By then I sort of wished I had bought that three-carat men's diamond ring.

We could let the Bellagio represent the sort of thing going on at the high end. The Venetian, almost equally posh, also recently opened a new tower, but management apparently has decided that it doesn't need to touch its amazing reproduction of San Marcos Piazza and the canals plied by stripe-shirted gondoliers. Another thing new this year is Bouchon, a bistro created by chef Thomas Keller of the acclaimed French Laundry.

I spent a Sunday night at the brand-new wing of Mandalay Bay, called THEhotel. My $179 suite (higher on Fridays and Saturdays) confirmed that Bellagio was onto a trend. The décor featured similar dark wood furniture, muted colors and flat-screen TVs in the living room, bedroom and even the bath.

The gimmick at THEhotel is that it has no gimmick. It's a modern glass tower of 1,122 suites that would serve just as well in Manhattan or Chicago's River North. Of course, the Mandalay Bay casinos, a shopping mall cum bridge to sister property Luxor, and all sorts of restaurants, swimming pools and the famous shark tank aren't far away.

Simpler, cheaper

In shopping for a Strip hotel, there have to be days when a traveler wants to keep a firm grip on the wallet. I wasn't sure if I'd find anything new about Westward Ho, but I decided to spend one night there, about 45 minutes of which involved driving up and down ranks of two-story, motel-style units until I found my room.

Considering the price was only $44.22, including tax, the unit wasn't bad at all. From my second-story window, the view was limited to the back end of Circus Circus. The TV provided just 10 channels, most of them a bit snowy. Yet the room was clean and had a couple of impressive features: Palm Latitudes Hazel Almond shampoo in a real bottle, rather than a squeeze packet, plus soap that the plastic wrapper said was French milled.

All gaudiness had been lavished on the stand-alone Westward Ho casino, which is surrounded by purple canopies trimmed in gold and lit by the requisite Old Las Vegas marquee. This is the area, as the Strip approaches its northern end, where pedestrians holding coin cups still stroll along the sidewalks and some of the tinsel needs a good dusting.

Off the Strip, but not too far off, reasonable lodging can be found by visitors willing to forgo an in-house casino and the excitement of standing in a long line at a big-hotel buffet.

I picked the St. Tropez for my off-Strip experience. It's a cluster of 10 yellow, adobe-style buildings with 149 units surrounding a wonderful swimming pool on Harmon Avenue. Some rooms have a view of the Brobdingnagian neon-trimmed guitars that adorn the Hard Rock Hotel and Cafe across the street. My windows framed a vista of tropical garden and pool. Nicely soothing.

The "suite," which apparently means a room big enough for a couch and a whirlpool tub, was a study in beige and Southwestern pastels — a bit frayed at the edges, but serviceable. A free breakfast came with the $99 room rate. Sure it was a standard motel-style spread with nothing fancy, but I didn't have to wait in line.

When I checked in, I noticed in the driveway a white van with a Howard Johnson sign. "Is this a Howard Johnson?" I asked the receptionist. "Uh, that's a sister property," she sniffed.

Not all kid-friendly

The big Strip resorts try to stay fresh by adding bars and restaurants, replacing those that might have become a bit tired or less profitable. I tried a few.

Adults might remember a time when Las Vegas believed it could be a family destination and appeal to kids as well as grown-ups.

For example, when MGM Grand opened in 1993, it had a big theme park in the back yard. Now that's reserved for corporate outings and the like. MGM's broad hallways teem with restaurants, most of which exude sophistication.

At Shibuya, one of the newest kids on the block, the menu combined old Japanese favorites with creations such as Kobe beef tataki prepared with Shichimi onions and lemon soy. Chef Eiji Takase did a fine job, as did the resident sake sommelier, John Gauntner.

Our waiter brought a tasting of three sakes, Fukucho ("moon on the water"), Hatsumago ("original grandchild") and Gingashizuku ("divine droplets"). Each one was smoother than the next.

Rose-colored glass walls and partitions decorated with angled wood or bamboo slats raised the level of sophistication even higher. I didn't notice at first, but a press release later informed me that "exaggerated bar codes etched into the glass inject playful postmodern references to technology and consumerism."

No kiddie menu there, and it was obvious that the "what happens here stays here" naughty mindset has thoroughly taken hold.

Soon-to-open wynn

Who knows what sort of impeccably high-fashion mischief might happen behind the brown-toned glass walls of Wynn Las Vegas, after it opens in April? Even now, it's an imposing construction site with that tall brown tower and acres of smaller buildings.

Developer Steve Wynn broke Las Vegas precedent with the refined and lake-fronted Bellagio. He sold out to MGM Mirage and is throwing all his efforts into what purports to be the most expensive resort ever built — at $2.6 billion.

Wynn promises it will exude good taste and tranquility with 2,716 rooms and suites, an 18-hole golf course, pools, gardens, exclusive boutiques, even a car dealership selling exotic imports.

Down the Strip, the formerly kid-enchanting Treasure Island opened in 1993, bagged its playful skull-and-crossed-swords sign and replaced it with one that identifies the resort only as TI. In the cove that fronts the hotel, the pirate show involving full-sized sailing ships has evolved into a spectacle where the scantily clad "Sirens of TI" lure pirates to their lair with song, dance, acrobatics and double entendre ("who you calling ahoy?").

To get the best view of the spectacle, I went through a new nightclub called Tangerine, where tube-topped lady bartenders mix the drinks and — later in the evening — a stripper performs. The Tangerine patio gives customers a front-row peek at the "Sirens" show. Neither the show nor the stripper revealed all that much.

The new Isla Mexican Kitchen and Tequila Bar at TI features décor that mixes pre-Columbian prints with bright colors — a cheerful setting for chef

Rick Aco's innovative takes on such standards as burritos and tacos. Bottles of tequila dominate one wall, encouraging tastings, but I settled for a generic margarita.

MGM Grand has come up with a new Mexican place of its own, Diego. Equally bright and modern, it specializes in traditional Mexican fare and saves the tequila for unusual drinks such as fresh fruit sorbet tequila shooters and a frozen margarita on a stick.

Not to be outdone, Mirage has deviated from its "George of the Jungle" casino décor just enough to carve out a new buffet called Cravings — all shiny with chrome and gold and sporting ranks of au courant orange translucent acrylic tables.

Offerings reflect tastes and recipes from around the world, the food cooked right where people grab it, rather than coming from a far-off central kitchen. Naturally, the lines are long, but the abundance and quality justify the $18.81 (including tax) that the cashier rings up.

As fate and work schedules would have it, I ended up in Las Vegas three times within a year. That may be far too much for the average visitor, but even when trips come that close together, I have to admit there was something new every time, usually replacing something old.