RECASTING ITSELF INTO A FAMILY-FRIENDLY DESTINATION, LAS VEGAS MAKES A VACATION A SAFE BET

Author: By Bella English, Globe Correspondent

Date: SUNDAY, September 6, 1998

Page: M1

Section: Travel

Except Vegas. (OK, there's also the Hoover Dam, which took five years to build and five minutes to see).

We sighed, folded up our map and bought a guidebook to Las Vegas, that tacky strip of glitz and glam, rising like some nightmare mirage out of the desert. Or so we thought.

It turned out -- for the kids, at least -- to be the highlight of our two-week Western trip. Like Club Med and other former ``adult only'' vacation spots, Las Vegas in the '90s has retooled itself into a family-friendly vacation destination. Where once there was little more than high rollers, champagne, and show girls, there now are magic shows, cotton-candy booths, amusement rides and video arcades, jugglers, clowns, festivals, animal attractions, and even kids' menus.

Sure, there are still ``topless revues.'' But you'll also find Betty Boop, Popeye, and Olive Oyl strolling around MGM Grand Adventures, a theme park behind the MGM Grand Hotel, with all sorts of rides, shows, stunts, and fast food.

Inside the New York, New York hotel and casino, you'll see glassy-eyed grannies feeding buckets of quarters into slot machines. But atop the roof of the same building, you can pay five bucks to ride the Manhattan Express, an awesome loop-de-loop roller coaster from which you can see much of the world-famous Strip. A Coney Island-style midway has recently opened, with virtual reality games, bumper cars, laser patrols, and other amusements.

Inside Treasure Island, there are roulette, blackjack, and craps tables. Outside, the kids can watch the sinking of a British frigate by pirates and cheer as the stalwart captain goes down -- and later comes back up -- with his ship.

At the Mirage casino-hotel complex, there's an erupting volcano, a frolicking dolphin habitat, a 20,000-gallon aquarium replete with sharks and stingrays, a tropical rain forest, and there are two stunning royal white tigers on constant display. This is the desert?

The Excalibur offers King Arthur's Tournament, a medieval pageant with knights, jousting, fireworks, damsels in distress, jugglers, and a feast eaten in authentic style -- with one's fingers, which was a big hit with my children.

Add a couple of to-die-for magic shows, a pool to combat the withering desert rays and the constant clanking of coins in the casinos, and the kids couldn't have been happier. It should be noted that children are not allowed to loiter around the gaming part of casinos; they must stroll by the tables or a security guard will move them along.

For my husband and me, going from the natural splendor of the Grand Canyon to the man-made monstrosities of Vegas was the epitome of going from the sublime to the ridiculous. Driving into town on the Strip, as Las Vegas Boulevard is known, was not a pretty picture: at one end, pawn shops, tattoo parlors, topless dives, souvenir stands, hustlers, high rollers, and wedding chapels vied with each other for space and attention. On average, 150 couples are married in Las Vegas each day; apparently, some of these unions even last through the weekend. For couples' convenience, there are even drive-through wedding chapels; you needn't leave your car to get hitched. My journal entry notes: ``A walking freak show.'' People-watching is at a premium, and it's one of the few free things left in Las Vegas.

Or, as Hunter Thompson wrote in ``Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas:'' ``No, this is not a good town for psychedelic drugs. Reality itself is too twisted.''

In Vegas, neon is the decor of choice; I wouldn't have been surprised to look up into the desert sky and see, amid the stars, ``Presenting the Milky Way!'' spelled out in electric pink script. With the towering casino complexes that harken back to King Tut's time (the Luxor), King Arthur (Excalibur), Blackbeard (Treasure Island), Hollywood (MGM Grand), and dozens more, Vegas offers a phantasmagoric smorgasbord, one that would appeal to any child -- real or inner.

Las Vegas in summer is a hard sell -- daytime temperatures hovered between a low of 108 and a high of 113 when we were there in August -- so it's a good time to take children, who don't seem to mind the heat as much as adults. As long as mine had sunglasses and a pool, they were happy. And the cavernous hotel-casino complexes are air-conditioned and open 24 hours a day. Several of the lampposts had contraptions that shot off cooling sprays of mist during the day and evening, and the kids delighted in running in and out among them.

Despite the obvious signs that children are welcome, the local chamber of commerce folks would like to point out that Vegas is still not a kid kind of town: ``Our predominant gaming industry is not a children's entertainment,'' stresses chamber vice president Kara Kelley. In fact, 90 percent of those who come to ``Sin City'' do not bring children.

But the reality -- twisted or otherwise -- is that boomers have kids, and will travel. Kelley concedes: ``We're constantly able to reinvent ourselves to meet new tourist markets . . . As it became evident that adults who had children wished to travel with them, it became necessary for adult properties to offer things beyond gambling.'' Such as boat rides down ``the Nile'' in the Luxor hotel-casino complex. The acrobatic shows at Circus Circus. The recent Boys 2 Men concert playing near Debbie Reynolds.

A favorite on our visit was ``An Evening In Vienna,'' actually an afternoon in Vegas, featuring the Royal Lipizzaner stallions from Vienna performing at the Excalibur.

If you go to Las Vegas, it's advisable to get seats to the big-ticket events ahead of time. We were closed out of our first choice, the Siegfried & Roy magic show at the Mirage, but snagged tickets to Caesar's Magical Empire, a four-hour-long extravaganza at Caesar's Palace that ended up being the apex of our visit.

It began at 5:30 p.m., when we were greeted by toga-clad ushers and taken into the Chamber of Destiny, where the floor ``disappears,'' dropping you down into an ``ancient'' catacomb. We were then taken into a cave-like dining room, where 25 of us were seated at marble banquettes and entertained by Octavia, a wizard who kept up a running commentary and magic tricks.

Our waiters were Maximus and Minimus, so named for their sizes, who served us a sumptuous three-course meal with bottomless glasses of wine for the adults and ``Sprite-amus'' for the kids. Then we headed to the Grotto Bar, where a piano named ``Invisibella'' played any request, including my 11-year-old daughter's ``Don't Speak'' by No Doubt and my 5-year-old son's request for the ``Star Wars'' theme song. No one sat at the piano, but the keys moved, and it played each request unfailingly and instantaneously, a feat I'm still trying to figure out. The kids were also charmed by Habeas and Corpus, two schmoozing skeletons hanging on the wall.

Our party was then ushered into the Sanctum Secorum for card tricks, and later to the Sultan's Palace for an illusionist show that had even the most hardened skeptic -- me -- amazed. Finally, we were shown to the Lumineria, a short show featuring lots of fire, heat, smoke, and other high-tech special effects. The extravaganza was $65 for adults and $30 for children, and worth every penny.

Las Vegas has some gourmet restaurants, but mostly what you find is the quantity-over-quality casino buffets, priced to attract gamblers and keep them until they lose their shirts. For a few bucks, you can grab an oversized plate, choose items, and stuff yourself sick.

A great kid's place is ``The Dive,'' a restaurant on the Strip owned by Steven Spielberg. The exterior resembles a yellow submarine, and the interior features a giant screen showing underwater scenes of sharks, stingrays, and a diver feeding an eel. (``Cool!'' exclaimed our son). The kids loved the giant subs -- of course -- and burgers and fries. The huge plate of S'mores for dessert came with four forks, one for each of us, though of course anyone knows S'mores are only to be eaten with fingers, even in Las Vegas.

Walking down the Strip, it's hard to believe that this former desert outpost is not even 100 years old. Today, it boasts 30 million visitors a year and last month welcomed its 500 millionth visitor since 1960. The city's history is a fascinating blend of prospectors, Mafioso, Rat Packers, businessmen, and headliners. It's where Elvis married Priscilla and Ali beat Floyd Patterson, where Sammy Davis Jr. debuted, and where Ali later lost his title to Leon Spinks.

The Magic and Movie Hall of Fame features old film clips and costumes from movies, including Clark Gable's jacket in ``Gone With the Wind'' and Dorothy's red shoes from ``The Wizard of Oz.'' The kids may not be impressed by that, but they won't be able to resist the magic and ventriloquist shows, plus a huge magic museum that features clips of Houdini and other illusionists. The do-it-yourself ventriloquist booth and the Gypsy fortune-telling booths were a big hit with our children.

Without even gambling -- I blew a grand total of 50 cents in the slots -- you can drop a lot of money in Las Vegas. But inexpensive entertainment can also be found. In fact, one of our best moments came free of charge. Tooling down the Strip one sultry afternoon, we spotted a bride and groom outside a wedding chapel, dashing to their car after the ceremony. The bride wore white. Hotpants, that is.