Sunday, Dec. 25, 2005 | 8:08 a.m.
Mason Lord is the appointed Drunk of the Month down at Dino's bar on Las Vegas Boulevard. It's the Thursday before Christmas and he's flipping through the karaoke books looking for something "Christmasy" to sing.
A few stools away sits Big Frank, who had moved to Las Vegas from New Orleans and won't be going home for the holidays. Most likely, he said, he'll be here at Dino's.
At the other end of the bar Julie Moskal is filling out her karaoke card. She too wants to sing some Christmas songs. It's her first year in Las Vegas, away from her family in Chicago. She moved here to work for the Clark County School District, resigned from that job and is now hoping to attend dealer school. Karaoke is her thing.
John Lyon will sing love songs. His bride to be is in Seattle visiting her grandchildren. It will be his fifth bride, the 62-year-old says. She'll call him Christmas Day at Dino's where he's been a regular customer for more than 12 years.
At 1516 Las Vegas Blvd. South, Dino's has long touted itself as the last neighborhood bar in Vegas, and it would be difficult to find a regular who disagrees. For some, it's a second home, a second family. The regulars are young, old, blue collar, white collar, artists, casino workers and gallery owners. Some receive their mail at the bar and have their own beer mug under the counter.
And for a select handful, karaoke at Dino's is big, especially this time of year.
"It brings people together," said Danny G. (aka Daniel Gobel) who publishes the local karaoke guide Las Vegas Lounge Entertainment and has been running karaoke nights at Dino's for more than five years.
"It's a way for a lot of people who don't have a lot of family in town to come and share their seasonal joy. There's so many people who want to have a place to go."
For others, he said, "It's an opportunity to sing all the songs they loved as children."
The bar had been busy for the last couple of days. The night before, the choir for Reverend Billy and the Church of Stop Shopping had been there. Earlier on Thursday there was a funeral gathering of 200 people. That crowd had cleared out by evening, leaving empty stools for the karaoke singers who were trickling in.
Regulars sat before pitchers of beer. A white Christmas tree flickered under a Foster's beer sign, and the bartender's stockings hung vertically from a post. White Christmas lights were strung around the ceiling. For a smoky bar, it has its holiday warmth.
Lord, who had arrived that night with gifts -- a stuffed Ziggy doll, a handmade towel and muffins -- for the bartender Robin Shelton, in turn got homemade cookies that Shelton makes for all her regular customers.
"Every day they come in, they're showing their gratitude for me," Shelton said. "So at Christmastime when I bake, I show them my gratitude."
Still deciding what to sing, Moskal said she doesn't regret not going back to Chicago for the holidays.
"It's 6 degrees there right now," Moskal said. "I'm just so thankful to be here. I can go out for a walk without looking like the Michelin man."
After Danny G. sang a few Christmas carols and Shelton popped out from behind the bar to sing Dolly Parton's "Hard Candy Christmas," James Bushelman from Cincinnati took the stage to sing, "Christmas in Dixie." His black cowboy hat and black leather vest enhanced the country flair. Bushelman also won't be going home for Christmas. Has has two sons in Cincinnati, but can't afford the trip.
He'll spend it with his parents and his wife, Terri Bushelman, who works at Mandalay Bay and will be working a shift on Christmas.
"It's just another workday for me," Terri Bushelman said. "But gotta call Grandma. Gotta call Mom."
Big Frank, a 55-year-old towering giant with a sweet voice and the tattooed names of his twin sons on his arms, sang "The Christmas Song/ Chestnuts Roasting on An Open Fire" with an Aaron Neville voice.
When later asked about his Christmas plans, he said, "I don't have a home to go to. I'm from New Orleans. My plans were to go home this year for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but now they're in Atlanta.
Looking around Dino's, he said, "When you don't have anywhere else to go, this is the place to be."
Though he says he doesn't get that excited about the holidays, Big Frank says he does have a favorite Christmas memory of seeing his niece and nephew after he'd been away from home for a while.
Nearby, John B., a limo driver who says he's been coming to Dino's for 45 years, said every Christmas memory is a favorite.
Smoking a slender brown cigarette, he paused, then added, "Sitting around the radio listening to Bing Crosby singing, eating hot fudge."
Unlike those around him, John B. says he won't be at Dino's for Christmas.
"I come here 360 days a year, but on Christmas I'll be with my grandchildren. I'll stop by on Christmas Eve, say 'Merry Christmas' to everyone, buy them a drink. But then it's home to the wife. Then the next day, the grandkids."
The day after, however, he'll probably be back at Dino's sitting next to the rest of the regulars and the place he considers a second home.
"People age," John B. said. "But once they come to Dino's, they don't relocate too often."
Kristen Peterson can be reached at 259-2317 or at kristen@ lasvegassun.com.
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