This first appeared on this blog on Sunday, July 29, 2012. It's about due for a rerun…
Many years ago, I was strolling down The Strip in Las Vegas around 3:45 in the afternoon and I was passing a grungy little casino called the Westward Ho, which was next door to the Stardust. As a point of reference, neither the 'Ho nor the Stardust are there anymore. There are Ho's in Vegas but not the Westward kind.
Outside the smaller casino, there was a man imploring passers-by to come in and see the 4:00 show they had there. As another point of reference, there are no good shows that perform at four in the afternoon. I don't mean just in Las Vegas. I mean anywhere.
The one in question was "A Tribute to Wayne Newton." In Vegas, the way you pay tribute to someone is to do their act. They had a guy who kinda looked like Wayne Newton and he probably sounded a little like Wayne Newton. That, by the way, is pretty much the popular description of Wayne Newton these days.
Anyway, the barker (I guess you'd call him) outside stopped me and told me what a wonderful time I'd have if only I'd plunk down the bucks to come in and hear this guy performing all of The Midnight Idol's hits. He closed his sales pitch with "So, how about it, Sport? Show starts in ten minutes. There are some good seats available." I had the feeling all seats were available including some in the band and maybe "Wayne's" but I didn't have the time or the interest.
Plus there was this: Standing there in front of the Westward Ho, I could turn my eyes about 20 degrees and see the Stardust next door. And on the huge Stardust sign, it proclaimed the name of the superstar then appearing in the showroom there: Wayne Newton. Presumably, the real one.
In this world, there are some questions you just have to ask. I knew I was not the first person to ask this question or the second or the five hundredth…but I had to ask it because I knew the man had to have an answer for it and I wanted to hear what it would be. I asked the barker, "Why should I pay to see your Wayne Newton when I can walk across that parking lot and buy a ticket to see the real Wayne Newton?"
He said, "Our Wayne Newton is $14.95 and includes a buffet, Sport."
And I thought: You know, that's a pretty good answer.
I mean, the buffet was usually $5.95. The real Wayne was getting $49.95 per ticket. With tip, we'll call it fifty bucks. Now, let's say the imitation Wayne was only 20% as good as the genuine article. I don't think it would be that hard to be 20% as good as Wayne Newton. I can't sing at all and I'm at around 14%. If he's one-fifth as good as Wayne, you're getting $10.00 worth of Wayne Newton plus a $5.95 buffet — a $15.95 value — for $14.95. That's a better return on your money than Keno.
But that's only if you want to see Wayne Newton and I didn't. Didn't want to see the real one and didn't want to see a reasonable facsimile. I also wanted him to stop calling me "Sport" so I needed a way out. My eyes scanned a photo of the Newton doppelgänger and on it, his image was surrounded by the names of some of Wayne's big hits like "Daddy, Don't You Walk So Fast," "Red Roses for a Blue Lady" and "Shangri-La." I turned to the salesman and said, "I'm sorry but I can't go see a Wayne Newton impersonator who doesn't sing 'Danke Schoen.' That's, like, malpractice."
The barker looked around to make sure no one could hear him. No one could. Then he whispered to me, "He does 'Danke Schoen' as his surprise encore!"
I was telling this story to someone the other day and I wasn't sure if I'd told it here or not…but if I have, it's been a while. And it prompted me to try and figure out who that Wayne Newton impersonator was. I did a little Internet sleuthing and it might have been Rusty Davis, who still performs in casinos and other venues around the country. Here's a sample of Mr. Davis. I think he's more than 20% as good as Wayne Newton was then…and probably better than him these days…