

If there ever was a 1 of 1, Jim Pucci was it. His kindness, charisma, generosity, and good nature connected him to everyone he met. His watch collection rivaled that of Kings. It was, perhaps, his preoccupation with time that made him so uncomfortable with wasting it and so boldly content with walking forward into infinite time on August 13th, 2019.
Jim’s life spanned eight pivotal decades. Born May 6th, 1939 in Waukesha, Wisconsin, he was the first child of Philomena (Mayna) and Louis Pucci. Six years later, his parents welcomed a second son, his brother Richard. Together, the two of them forged a love for cars. They enjoyed living near a large, extended family of aunts, uncles, grandparents, and cousins, all of whom were proudly Italian. There was never a shortage of meatballs or short tempers.
The family experienced great loss in 1957, during Jim’s senior year of high school, when his father unexpectedly passed away. This plotted many points on the course of Jim’s life. He sacrificed college to enter the family business, taking over his dad’s liquor store, and looking after his mother and younger brother. It was during this time in the early ‘60’s that Jim entered the Wisconsin National Guard Army Reserve.
Jim’s entrepreneurial spirit led him to sell the family liquor store and enter the tavern business. Simultaneously to opening Pucci’s Bar, Jim was frustrated that he couldn’t find a decent place to shop for clothes in town, so he opened up his own store. House of Pucci carried men’s clothing, some of which was branded with the Pucci label.
He always sympathized and fought for people on the margins. In the ‘70’s, he advocated for female bartenders looking to become licensed and was recognized for hiring the first, female bartender in the state of Wisconsin. He was praised in his community for the “buck board,” an innovative way he raised money for cancer at his Waukesha bar. It was the trip he took to Las Vegas to receive the award for National Tavern Keeper of the Year in 1971 that ultimately attracted him to move to the desert.
His move West came with a new job. His longtime friend and mentor, Joel Gosler, connected him with William Grant & Sons, for which he became a brand representative. He noticed that people in his new, booming community were looking for an upscale but casual place to dine and dance. Pucci’s Las Vegas opened in 1984 with lines down the street to get in.
In 1985, Jim gained his proudest title when he became a father. Nicole, or Nicci, which he made sure to spell with two c’s to match Pucci, was the love of his life. He found joy in spoiling her with presents, taking her out to eat, and loved watching her dance with the UNLV Starlets. When Nicci’s family grew, his love for fatherhood deepened with the birth of her daughters, Ryleigh and Sydnee. They called him “Jellybean Grandpa” because of the jellybean jar he had on his desk.
Jim’s idiosyncrasies were what made him most unique. Preparation and organization were his fortés. Personal and professional records were always meticulously tracked in pen and pencil because he refused to use a computer. He maintained filing cabinets in his home office and balanced his checkbook until the month before his death. A paper Rolodex still sits on his desk with saved business cards and numbers from years past.
Jim enjoyed walking many miles near and around the Las Vegas Country Club, and could be easily spotted by his colorful running shorts. He would do this in the middle of the day, even in the hot, Las Vegas summer. The time spent outside was also used to acquire the world’s best tan.
Most memorable to his friends and acquaintances was his eccentricity for collecting watches, jewelry, luggage, and clothing. Color schemes were important to Jim, who favored black, red, yellow, and occasionally blue. At one point, he owned the same car in two colors so he could choose which one he wanted to drive and match on any given day. He taught Nicci the rules of a good wardrobe is when your shoes match the color of your belt and shirt, a formulaic theory that led him to own many colorful belts, shoes, and a large quantity of cowboy boots during the late 1990’s. Jim was that person who, if he liked something, wouldn’t just buy it in three colors - he would buy it in 12 if it came with as many options.
Despite getting a thrill out of excess, Jim was also undeniably simple. During his career, he dined at the most sought after restaurants in the world, yet when he was home, he was happy to pop Stovetop popcorn and enjoy a beer for dinner. Usually, it involved watching a game of some sort.
Just as an automatic watch slows without use, Jim’s life slowed after retirement. He doted on his granddaughters, attending their school ceremonies and helping watch over them during the summer, but health challenges changed many aspects of his life. In his final days, he echoed the words of his favorite singer, Frank Sinatra:
And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain
I've lived a life that's full
I've traveled each and every highway
But more, much more than this
I did it my way.
Jim is preceded in death by his mother, Philomena Pucci (DeNardo); father Louis Pucci; and stepdaughter Melodi Zanone-Friend.
He is survived by his brother Richard Pucci; daughter Nicci Pucci (Johnson); son-in-law Wes Johnson; granddaughters Ryleigh and Sydnee Johnson; and many valued friends.
FAMILY
Louis PucciFather (deceased)
Philomena Pucci (DeNardo)Mother (deceased)
Richard PucciBrother
Nicci Pucci (Johnson)Daughter
Wes JohnsonSon-in-law
Ryleigh and Sydnee JohnsonGranddaughters
Melodi Zanone-FriendStep Daughter (deceased)
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