The strange place I'm living in

Reno is a place with many faces. There's the old downtown, built along the Truckee River, a site of casinos but also an urban core. This is where the "Biggest Little City" arch spans the street. The outskirts were ranches not so long ago; wild horses sometimes wander among the housing tracts which have mushroomed out from the center. There are plenty of malls and strip malls. There are some lovely, thoughtfully developed, parks and bike routes. And quite ordinary urban neighborhoods where our hearty canvassers knock on doors.

And there are what I think of as the territories of aspiring office parks. Both our office and my temporary residence are among those.

If we didn't all use Google maps, we'd describe the location of the campaign office as being on Equity Ave., midway between Corporate and Financial.

Should the heat permit a leisurely walk around the block, you'd pass Financial and Wall Streets.

Most of the time, there's little visible life on these streets, rudimentary sidewalks, well manicured landscaping, and parking lots. Our building was a call center in a previous life, divided into 100s of carrels. There's another vacant call center around the corner. The pandemic took a toll here.

I'm housed at present (after a couple of moves) at a splendid extended stay hotel, the Staybridge Suites. It's clear who their hoped for clientele consists of -- it wasn't quite our merry band of hotel and casino workers. But we pay the bills.

Our street address is aspirational, like so much of Reno.

Don't get me wrong. Reno grows on me. The surroundings are gorgeous high desert when you escape the sprawl, heat, and smoke from California wildfires. Here was the view at sunrise today.

 

If you feel moved to help combat the MAGA fascists, join us and meet a few voters.