Will Las Vegas Monorail find much-needed savior?

The Las Vegas Monorail was born in original sin, the product of an insular and insidious cabal of insiders looking to profit by the tools of government.

The question now is, does that sin taint the modern monorail enough to doom it?

Late last week, a U.S. Bankruptcy Court judge rejected the monorail's reorganization plan, pointing out that despite the shedding of millions of dollars of debt the troubled train still couldn't perform financially.

And while the monorail's top officials argued that increased ridership from Caesars Entertainment's Project Linq and a potentially re-opened Sahara hotel would boost ridership, it seems the community has finally learned its lesson: Monorail promises are worth about as much as monorail bonds.

It wasn't always this way. When the monorail was first built, its backers predicted millions of riders and plenty of money. But even the harshest critics wildly overestimated ridership, and the monorail lurched from mechanical malfunctions to financial dysfunction. To this day, the only people who ever made money on the troubled train were its founders and managers.

Current monorail CEO Curtis Myles makes more money after a pay cut -- $288,240 per year to run the train along 3.9 miles of the resort corridor -- than LVCVA President and CEO Rossi Ralenkotter makes to promote the entire destination. And Myles' pay is more than twice as much as Gov. Brian Sandoval's.

In its history, the monorail has pulled off many outrages: It was classified by the state as a charity -- and thus earned itself a tax exemption -- because it provided a service that would otherwise be provided by government. (Forget the fact that the government is providing that service via the far more successful CAT bus system.) And it trumpeted its "private" status, ignoring the fact that it could not have been built without government-issued tax-exempt bonds.

So, what happens now?

Monorail and Regional Transportation Commission officials confirm that talks have taken place that would have seen the monorail get federal grant money through the RTC. But Tracy Bower, spokeswoman for the RTC, says those talks "were not fruitful," and that discussions have ended.

Ingrid Reisman, spokeswoman for the monorail, says there have been no discussions about an RTC takeover of the monorail, another way it could qualify for government funding. Even the audacious monorail must realize there would be a taxpayer revolt at the very idea. (Few realize that monorail pioneer Bob Broadbent said more than once that his ultimate vision was for the government to take over the train.)

Despite its failings, the monorail carried more than 5.2 million passengers during 2010, people who would otherwise clog the streets below, especially during big conventions. How do big hotel corporations such as MGM Resorts International and Caesars feel about the potential shuttering of the monorail? And could their voices make a difference at this late stage of the debate? Could their private investments be required to save the monorail, or even make it more useful with a long-planned extension to the airport? Thus far, casinos have been silent. Calls to the companies weren't immediately returned Monday.

If the bankruptcy fails and the monorail is liquidated, would anybody be interested in buying it? Should it just be torn down? (A final monorail failure: The fund set aside to tear the tracks down in the event of failure is now said to be inadequate to the task.)

Or could the monorail simply be mothballed, its trains sold off and its tracks left vacant, a hulking reminder to beware the promises of high-powered grifters and self-interested casino companies?

No matter how hard you work, it seems there's no erasing original sin.

Steve Sebelius is a Review-Journal political columnist, and author of the blog SlashPolitics.com. Follow him on Twitter at www.Twitter.com/SteveSebelius or reach him at (702) 387-5276 or at ssebelius@ reviewjournal.com.