Closing Time: The Beat Coffeehouse

Cleverly-named specials. Quirky events. Friends behind the counter who knew my name.

The Beat was the independent Vegas coffeehouse that reminded me of my favorite hangouts in Rochester, NY. I think my first visit was in 2011, back when my friend Tiffany and I would grab lunch after we hit the neighborhood farmers market. That was also when you could park on the street for free.

It wasn’t long before I began fantasizing about opening a tiny spa office inside Emergency Arts (the building that housed The Beat). The former exam rooms (the building had been a JC Penney, then a medical clinic) were the perfect size to allow me to serve the community, one relaxing spa treatment at a time. My dream became a reality when I signed my lease in November 2012, and I’ve been running Feetish Spa Parlor ever since.

In July 2016 we tenants were told that The Beat would be closing at the end of September, and the 1st floor tenants (galleries, studios, pretty eyelashes) would need to leave to make room for a new restaurant that would be taking over the majority of the space. Luckily Feetish is located on the 2nd floor and for now she’s able to remain where she is, but I’m still saddened (to a surprising degree, actually) by the loss of The Beat and friends.

I wanted to explore the vacant 1st floor before the wrecking crew came in to gut and rebuild the entire thing. The other afternoon Paul, Jim and I went creepin’, and here’s what we saw…















Death Goes Downtown

Pretty much anytime I travel nowadays, I pre-Google cemeteries that are located in the vicinity of or on the way to my final destination. That’s why it’s super weird (even to me) that until just the other day, I hadn’t explored downtown Las Vegas’s three cemeteries.

Come this April, I will have resided in Vegas for eight years. The shameful, solitary excuse I have for my negligence is straight-up snobbery; I grew up with the rolling hills, suffragette gravestones and Victorian creepiness of the breathtaking Mt. Hope Cemetery in Rochester, NY. No burial ground I’ve seen in real life has come close to inspiring me as much as my precious Mt. Hope has. Certainly the brown grass and 20th century headstones of Vegas’s finest funerary fields held no redeeming qualities for a slovenly, narrow-minded death tourist such as myself.

As I approach my 37th year on this planet, considering the recent expected and unexpected losses of favorite people in my life, I have finally come to appreciate nuance. Time. Beauty in the oft overlooked opportunity. (And alliteration, apparently.)

Let me show you what I discovered when I visited the Woodlawn and Palm Downtown cemeteries in February, 2015…


Founded in 1914, Woodlawn currently spans 40 acres at the intersection of Las Vegas Blvd. and Owens Ave. As of August, 2013, this downtown cemetery provided a final resting place for 28,288 of our dearly departed. It is owned by the City of Las Vegas, and is listed on the United States National Register of Historic Places.

Upon first glance, Woodlawn Cemetery appears to be rather small. Grass, mostly nondescript rectangular gravestones, teenagers cutting through the property on their way home from school.

A journey toward the “back” of the cemetery reveals another world entirely. Check out this drama!

Old trees line the central paved road that runs through Woodlawn.

Old trees line the central paved road that runs through Woodlawn.

One of the more unusual memorials at Woodlawn.

One of the more unusual memorials at Woodlawn.

One of the few gravestones at Woodlawn that probably wasn't positioned exactly where it used to be.

One of the few gravestones at Woodlawn that probably isn’t positioned exactly where it used to be.

The gray heart and angel stone located behind Mary's head is a very popular design here.

The gray heart and angel stone located behind Mary’s head is a very popular design at Woodlawn. I lost count of how many I saw, but they’re pretty tall and stand out among the shorter gravestones.


Palm Downtown opened their current location on Main St. in 1957. In 1958 they built Southern Nevada’s first mausoleum, naming it The Building of Eternity.

It just so happens that The Building of Eternity is one of my new favorite places in all of Las Vegas. The first time I visited (two weeks ago) I was in awe of its haunting beauty and peaceful atmosphere. I returned just a few days ago, notebook and pencil in hand. What follows are my observations from the cemetery on a Wednesday afternoon…

The parking lot is 80% filled with passenger vehicles, yet I only see two people walking among the grassy graves. Adrenaline. Excitement. I’m almost embarrassed to admit how much I’m looking forward to visiting this mausoleum for the second time.

I opt to wander the grounds for a bit first. A few smaller mausoleums flank the property, towering over small grave markers that suggest cremains. Valentine’s flowers and balloons dot the relatively small graveyard; an angel with weathered wings presides over a plot reserved for the youngest children. The smell of freshly cut green grass is the predominant perfume out here — a rarity in our desert. The aroma shifts as I approach each marble building, live vegetation replaced by faint must.

The Building of Eternity. The temperature seems to drop at least five degrees as soon as I walk through the open doors. Dim, damp and cool; the mustiness mingles with a bleachy scent, almost peppery or slightly herbal for a second here and there.

Two impressive stained glass windows brighten up both ends of the entryway. Straight ahead a treed courtyard awaits, surrounded by vaults. A single statue resides in this roofless structure. A long hallway to the left of the courtyard runs the length of the mausoleum, leading to two more large, open air courtyards. Grass, benches, small graves in the center of each, surrounded by walls made of marble tombs. A few are “reserved”, a few bear no markings. Looks like there’s room for one more.

A handful of polite flies buzz around, completely uninterested in the living. In the distance, the “beep beep” of heavy excavation equipment.

I think back to the day we put my husband’s brother in the ground, almost one year ago. In my normal routine I push these blips aside; to be transported there regularly is more than my human brain can handle. But here people expect you to be sad. I go there, I cry. I am alone.

When the time is right I head out the same way I came in. Fear and anxiety have left me; I feel spent, somber, satisfied. Numb but free.

This could be addictive.

The Building of Eternity, entryway

The Building of Eternity, entryway

The Building of Eternity, first courtyard

The Building of Eternity, first courtyard

The Building of Eternity, long hallway

The Building of Eternity, long hallway

Weathered Wings

Weathered Wings and Many Thanks.

About hObsessions

Hobbies-Turned-Obsessions. I seek out cemeteries, urban decay, beautiful old things and the random oddity. Words and images follow.

After years of blogging about mostly work-related subject matter, the need has arisen for a personal thought depository of sorts.

Sweet Jesus, this is going to be random.


All content on is the property of Andrea Lipomi unless otherwise noted.

Copyright 2015