Imperial Palace. Never have two words meant such polar opposites to people, depending on what side of the globe they live on. To the Japanese, it is the elegant residence of the Emperor; a sprawling park like area with Edo Castle as its centerpiece, originally build in 1457. In the 1980s, it's value was greater than that of the entire state of California. Also in the 1980s, the Imperial Palace came to be known as a hotel casino on the Las Vegas strip. Unlike its namesake, while inflation would increase the monetary value of the property, time would give it the reputation as one of the worst kept properties in the market, competing for the title year over year with Circus Circus. And just like the property it shared that dubious distinction with, Imperial Palace’s ownership didn’t care. Why should they? They knew exactly who their demographic was and how to cater to it and they didn't seemed to be complaining. Seeking the approval of those that looked down at their customer base wasn’t part of the business plan.
Despite the companies well-documented investment mismanagement, LINQ is Caesars proof of concept, showcasing that a total transformation can be done without imploding and starting over. Its success no doubt encouraged other such projects in the market, like the complete reimagining of Bill's Gambling Hall, better known as Barbary Coast, into Cromwell and Monte Carlo's transformation into Park MGM. As much as we support the preservation of history, Vegas has shown it should never be done at the expense of progress. Preventing an abandon, outdated building from being destroyed or replaced by something better suited for the needs of today doesn't honor its place in history, it sullies its memory (I'm looking at you Moulin Rouge). The same way no one likes to say goodbye to a loved one, time comes for us all. Honor their memory by allowing them to pass on with grace and remember them the way they would have wanted to be remembered, bathed in neon at 2:30 in the morning.
