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| - The address, 821 Las Vegas Blvd. N (Reed Whipple Cultural Center) is actually across the street. "Cultural Center." Sounds impressive, right? It's an ugly cinder-block building in an uninviting part of town. It looks like a recycled mortuary. What's up with Vegas anyway?
Plenty of boneheads headed for the boneyard tried to drive into the actual location, a small lot on McWilliams. It's blocked by Jersey barriers (concrete barricades). The nitwits caused a minor traffic jam on Las Vegas Blvd.
It's not their fault. The boneyard website doesn't give the location. I called the number and was told to park across the street. You see the boneyard on the right, but turn LEFT! LEFT! It's counterintuitive, but it works, trust me.
There was special admission of "only" $5 for access that usually runs $15. The yard was open Saturday from 11 to 3, with the first tour starting at noon. A throng of 200-300 people lined up as if they might get turned away at 11:01. Why do people queue up so eagerly when there is absolutely no need? Why the panic? First in line for what?
I saw people dragging their kids. No, not a kiddie attraction by any stretch.
Another review mentions two lots. They must have consolidated the signs because now they are piled randomly into one small lot. It looks as if a crane operator haphazardly dropped them anywhere. It's just a jumble of old rusty destroyed signage.
A tour guide greeted the assemblage to lay out the ground rules. She ended every phrase with the rising inflection of a question, making herself sound like a twit. I know people who talk like little girls this think it's cute, but when you're delivering important information it helps to assume a voice of authority.
You don't have to take a tour, you can wander about the whole time snapping photos. Anyone taking photos has to sign a release. There is no climbing around on the signs. You are to observe the crime scene tape that marks the limits of your adventure into kitschy Vegas.
From the outside I had a good enough view to decide it wasn't worth going in. It's just a junkyard, except the junk is old neon signs that have shamefully been allowed to lapse into almost total ruin.
As I left, the volunteer directing traffic asked if I'd gone through already. I told him I changed my mind. He seemed to take it personally when I declined to make a donation.
Returning down Las Vegas Blvd., we saw a restored neon caballero riding his noble steed down the median. That's something you might pay to see. Even if the boneyard looked something like the great shots Abby A. took you would jump at the chance to go in.
Don't get me wrong, I'm as big a fan of historic preservation as the next guy (Ralph). I checked with him and he's a fan too. Just allow me to issue a humble warning that some of you may be disappointed.
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