Vegas Vintage Casino Chips

12/03/2025

Born in the early 1980s, the Edgewater started as one of those places that looked like it was designed by someone who’d only ever heard a description of Las Vegas over a bad phone connection. It opened with a prime spot on the Colorado River and a sense of optimism so bold you'd think it had just read The Secret. The developers figured, “Who needs the Strip when you've got discount shrimp cocktails and a river where you can accidentally lose your flip-flops?” And honestly… they had a point.

Through the years, the Edgewater has seen everything: celebrity impersonators, buffet comebacks, perfectly timed slot machine jingles, and more jean shorts than the Lord ever intended. It expanded, renovated, and tried to stay on trend—though “on trend” in Laughlin usually means adding a new shade of blue carpet or a bar that offers three more flavors of margarita. The casino also became famous for its walkways connecting to nearby hotels, making it possible for visitors to wander between casinos without ever going outside—thus shielding them from both the desert sun and the sobering realization that it’s 11 a.m. and they’re already holding two-for-one daiquiris.

Today, the Edgewater stands as a proud monument to Laughlin charm—part retro, part riverfront, and part “Wait, is that the same lounge singer from 1994?” It’s the kind of place where you can win $20 on video poker, walk ten feet, and immediately spend it on nachos big enough to be declared a national park. It’s beloved, it’s quirky, and it’s got that special Laughlin magic: just a little bit tacky, a little bit flashy, and entirely unforgettable. If Las Vegas is the glamorous showgirl, the Edgewater is her fun-loving cousin who knows how to run a boat, grill burgers, and still hit a lucky streak at the penny slots before dinner. And honestly? We love her for it.

11/14/2025

11/13/2025

Construction at the Sands, November 1965. Dean Martin headlines the Copa Room. They worked fast – the tower opened in Jan. '66.

11/12/2025

Harrah’s Atlantic City burst onto the Jersey Shore scene in 1980 like a rhinestone-covered Elvis impersonator crashing a church potluck—loud, flashy, and determined to be noticed. It was the first casino to open in the Marina District, far from the Boardwalk crowd, which made sense: Harrah’s was basically saying, “We’re too classy for funnel cake.” Early visitors came for the gambling and stayed for the buffet, which in true Atlantic City fashion, managed to be both glamorous and deeply suspicious at the same time.

As the years rolled on, Harrah’s became known not just for its slot machines, but for its unapologetic devotion to the art of excess. They built an indoor pool so big it could double as a tropical rainforest and added nightclubs that made every visiting bachelor party believe they were starring in The Hangover: Boardwalk Edition. Guests could gamble all night, stumble into the spa in the morning, and still make brunch—because at Harrah’s, time is a suggestion, not a rule.

Of course, no Atlantic City tale would be complete without a little chaos. Between hurricanes, power outages, and the occasional celebrity sighting (some planned, some questionable), Harrah’s has stood tall as a beacon of neon resilience. Today, it’s not just a casino—it’s a rite of passage for anyone who wants to experience the fine line between luxury and “what did I just agree to at 3 a.m.?” Harrah’s has seen it all and kept the party going, proving that in Atlantic City, the house doesn’t just win—it dances, drinks, and occasionally sings karaoke while doing it.

11/10/2025

The Landmark Hotel and Casino was born in the swinging ’60s, when someone decided that Las Vegas needed a giant concrete rocket ship to house gamblers and dreamers. Its most famous feature, the saucer-shaped tower, looked like a UFO that had landed, gotten bored, and decided to serve prime rib. Construction began in 1961, but thanks to a mess of lawsuits, unpaid bills, and a developer who made Howard Hughes look like a model of restraint, the place didn’t actually open until 1969 — the same year we put a man on the moon. Coincidence? The Landmark certainly hoped not.

In its glory days, the Landmark was a who’s who of the “Wait, who’s that?” celebrity crowd. Elvis popped by, Liberace sparkled, and Frank Sinatra probably threw something at someone. It was close enough to the Las Vegas Convention Center that conventioneers stumbled over regularly, either for blackjack or just to sober up in the revolving lounge that seemed to spin faster the more martinis you drank. For a hot minute, it looked like the Landmark might actually make it — until everyone realized that being next to the Convention Center wasn’t the same as being on the Strip, and that space-age décor gets old fast when your slot machines look like Sputnik leftovers.

By the 1980s, the Landmark had fallen on hard times. The carpets could have been declared independent nations, and the clientele ranged from die-hard gamblers to UFO conspiracy theorists waiting for the mothership to reclaim the tower. In 1995, the whole thing went out with a bang — literally — when it was imploded for a TV special. The implosion was so spectacular it made its way into the movie Mars Attacks! — a fitting farewell for a hotel that always looked ready for aliens. Today, it’s gone, but somewhere out there, a little piece of the Landmark’s glittering space-age soul still hovers, probably demanding free drink refills and a better buffet.

11/05/2025

Ah, the story of Chukchansi Gold — picture a bold plan by the Picayune Rancheria of Chukchansi Indians in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada: “Let’s build a full-on resort casino near Yosemite and call it ‘Chukchansi Gold’!” In the early 2000s they broke ground (finally) after lots of head-scratching and permit chasing. The casino doors swung open on June 25, 2003, followed by the hotel resort portion in August. Dreams of slot machines climbing upward and hardy hotel guests wandering in bunkered between pine trees became reality.

But of course — what’s a casino story without a dramatic twist? In October 2014 things got wild when rival factions within the tribe decided to storm the casino, leading to a temporary shutdown and even law-enforcement showdowns. For a while, the resort sat quiet while paperwork, audits and leadership power-plays circled like vultures. Then it reopened on December 31, 2015, ready for action, slot hits and buffet visits once more.

Today it stands as a kind of hybrid: half gleaming resort, half sharp reminder that economic empowerment (and casino-revenues) can stir deep human complexity. Through it all, the tribe has aimed to use the resort as a lever toward community development, culture-support and tribal sovereignty. In other words: there are slot machines and luxury rooms — and also purpose behind them. So next time you drive past Coarsegold off Highway 41, remember: this isn’t just “casino in the woods,” it’s a big story wrapped in velvet ropes, Native enterprise and machinery that counts jackpot blinks.

10/05/2025

The Vegas strip, July of 1969