Clueless Officials Approve Heart-Shaped Resort That’s Never, Ever Happening
Our elected officials are at it again! Clark County Commissioners have approved a heart-shaped resort despite the fact it’s never, ever happening.
The smoke-and-mirrors project has been approved for the site that previously held the equally real SkyVue Observation Wheel Experience. You know, the one with those abandoned cement pillars across from Mandalay Bay.
We won’t waste too much of your time with a non-existent project, but sometimes it’s fun to poke fun at public officials and delusional developers, so let’s dive in!
Back in 2020, the SkyVue site was sold for $70 million in a bankruptcy auction.
The landowner is Eli Applebaum. Applebaum is identified publicly as president of High Desert, a private Las Vegas real estate company. There’s no evidence High Desert has developed anything approaching the size or complexity of a casino resort.
Applebaum’s land purchase was through Kulik River Capital. If you’ve never heard of them, it’s because they’ve never done anything. It’s a private, low-profile real-estate holding company, not an established casino operator or major development firm. The company’s mailing address is an aircraft-hangar building in Everett, Washington. There is no public-facing Kulik River Capital Web site, no readily identifiable executive team, no hospitality division and no visible history of developing or operating a casino resort.
The alleged developer of the project is Tempo Ventures. They have also never done anything. The company has no meaningful public footprint and no verifiable portfolio of hotels, casinos or integrated resorts.
Steelman Partners designed the proposal, which you’d think would add some gravitas to such a project, but they often do renderings and designs for projects that never materialize. It’s a work-for-hire gig, not a vote of confidence.
The design is being roasted, by the way. Not Steelman’s best work.
Initial plans for the as-yet-unnamed resort call for a 350-foot-tall tower with 874 hotel rooms. The most recent iteration has plans for 752 rooms, with the tower reduced by 60 feet in height.
It’s worth noting this proposed resort bumps up against the airport. This creates tight height limitations. This resort wouldn’t be financially viable for the same reason a hotel on the Tropicana site wouldn’t be viable. If you can’t build up, you have fewer rooms, less revenue. This isn’t rocket science.
The imaginary resort would include a casino, convention space, restaurants, entertainment venues, a spa, 13 separate commercial buildings and a six-story parking garage. Altogether, the development would encompass more than 1.7 million square feet on nearly 12 acres. If it were real, which it most definitely is not.
This proposed (and approved!) project has no announced lender, equity partner, casino operator, hotel brand, general contractor, construction budget, groundbreaking date or opening date.
There’s also zero evidence the developer has applied for a Nevada gaming license.
Our county commissioners have a long and inglorious history of betting on horses that inevitably end up at the glue factory.
Ever hear of All Net? King David Hotel? The Majestic? LVXP? 65SLVB? Bally’s Las Vegas? Brightline?
Oh, and don’t forget the Dream Hotel. The abandoned project is a stone’s throw away from the SkyVue site.
County approval means the proposed uses and design are permitted. It doesn’t mean financing has closed. It doesn’t mean construction documents are complete. It doesn’t mean building permits have been issued. It doesn’t mean a contractor has been hired and it definitely does not mean bulldozers are on the way.
Developers pursue entitlements because approved land can be more valuable than unapproved land. Getting county approval is a Hail Mary to attract investors. You know, like how the A’s have started a ballpark on the Trop site. If you make it look real, investors might think it’s real. It’s also known as a “long con.”
Renderings aren’t funding. Approvals aren’t funding. Traditional media reporting projects as though they’re real isn’t funding.
We’d love to see the Failure Towers go away, but the implosion of SkyVue has provided untold amusement for many years now, including our beloved Tiny the Tumbleweed.
At one point, we announced the SkyVue site would be home to a unicorn petting zoo.
This, friends, is how we rendered traditional media moot.
If you’re excited about having a heart-shaped casino on The Strip, get used to disappointment.
Yes, that reference is now almost 40 years old. If you don’t like it, get your own blog and good luck with that.
Leave your thoughts on “Clueless Officials Approve Heart-Shaped Resort That’s Never, Ever Happening”
3 Comments