Today's News

Take away the sun, and Douglas Avenue becomes small-town Broadway, becomes a mosaic of textured cement and palm-smudged glass, the Salvation Army thrift store an all-night diner offering plastic fruit on chipped wood table. Streetlights become perfect eight-pointed stars in photographer Sean Weaver’s time-lapsed meditation on Las Vegas at night. Reminiscent of Edward Hopper’s famous painting, “Nighthawks,” Weaver’s Vegas is jaded, mysterious, a city of daisy-chained facade.

City Councilman Cruz Roybal contends that city employees are developing a phobia of talking to elected officials.

“I used to freely talk with employees. Now people are afraid of council members,” Roybal said at this week’s council meeting. “How can we not allow people to talk with me?”

He said that while a gag order may have been imposed on city employees, that won’t stop him from talking with people he has known for much of his life.

“We are family here, vecinos, primos. That’s our culture,” he said.

All my life, I’ve always had very vivid, realistic dreams. The oldest dream I can remember is one from when I was 4 or 5.

In my dream, I was walking down the street with my friend and her mom. We saw two people walk into an elevator, smiling and waving at us as the door closed.

Residents on Lee Drive wanted traffic to slow down on their street, and the city put a roundabout on Lee at Kierig Street as a result.

But some aren’t happy with the finished product, which has resulted in a bunch of yield, wrong-way, one-way and pedestrian signs in a small area.

Councilwoman Diane Moore, who represents the neighborhood, noted at this week’s council meeting that there are 15 signs at the roundabout. Actually, there’s 16, but one of them is down.