ML - Vegas Magazine

Vegas - 2015 - Issue 6 - October - Mens - Kaskade

Vegas Magazine - Niche Media - There is a place beyond the crowds, beyond the ropes, where dreams are realized and success is celebrated. You are invited.

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illustration by daniel o'leary Oscar Goodman—now, that guy's a man. At least in an old-school, boisterously impolitic sense that predates "mansplaining." From his unrepentant embrace of gin, showgirls, and his mob-lawyer past to the self- assured way he advocates snipping the thumbs from taggers, there's nothing "socially constructed," as the gender theorists and Twitter intellectuals might say, about the former mayor's masculinity. All around us, pop culture and politics may be engaged in a rolling redefnition of manhood, whether it's Don Draper's hippie-dippy denouement or Rick Perry (a Texan, for goodness' sake!) ditching his boots and donning glasses in a calculated bid to look more presidential. Feminist thinkers can chip away at the patriarchy and its perks, but Oscar still uses the term "broads"—not entirely ironically and not at all apologetically. And if it weren't for term-limit laws, he'd still be the king of Las Vegas. However paleo that may seem from the outside, it's more or less the norm for this place. Sin City loves a man's man, even if—especially if—he's a rascal. Sure, Bugsy Siegel was, despite Warren Beatty's enshrinement effort, too crass to transcend his mob persona and become an icon of respected Vegas manhood. But Moe Dalitz wasn't. He was a gangster, but he spread the philanthropic dollars and laundered himself into a beloved city father; he was once named Humanitarian of the Year. And whacking a few Texans Where the Men Are Old-schOOl masculinity may be a liability elsewhere, but in las Vegas, the man's man isn't hard tO find. by scott dickensheets in the old days didn't prevent Horseshoe magnate Benny Binion from being embraced as an avuncular dad fgure (and founding the World Series of Poker). On this side of the law—sometimes—there was former sheriff Ralph Lamb, who was never afraid to manhandle a perp and became a legend. Today, la vida macho continues unabated, whether it's US District Judge James Mahan, who wears his shoulder-holstered gun in his chambers, or the hundreds of professional and amateur mixed martial artists who train in Vegas, keeping the musk factor high. You will have spotted the common threads here: an unshakable sense of self, the cheerful banishment of internal confict, an appealing authenticity. Lucky for you, fella, Vegas will gladly democratize this manly mojo for anyone with a Y chromosome and a desire to free his pent-up machismo. However henpecked you are back in Turducken Falls, for the duration of a Vegas vacation, you can chomp cigars, swill booze, speak from your gut, and swagger like Conan (the barbarian, of course, not the talk-show host), and no one will ask you to check your privilege at the door. You can walk with the giants. When the view from your man cave is of a world confused over trigger warnings, all- female Ghostbusters remakes, and the cultural politics of dad bod, the directness of a Las Vegas bender probably seems revivifying. Whether all this unbridled manliness is a good thing, well, obviously that's been subject to debate since the frst Cro-Magnon dragged his mate into a cave. When it comes to Vegas, perhaps it's enough to hope that three days of raconteuring serves as a safety valve that helps keep your lid on back home. So live it up, big guy. Just don't call anyone a "broad." You're no Oscar Goodman. V 112  vegasmagazine.com PARTING SHOT

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