i've always had a soft spot for reno and have long maintained that nevada is the greatest state in the union. first of all, the silver state has the highest average elevation of any other state in the country. the thin air undoubtedly affected policy there -- prostitution and gambling are legal and i'm sure marrying your hot sister is just behind. basically a bunch of migrant silver miners, high on poorly oxygenated air, found several thousand square miles of bone dry dirt and cultivated a culture of sin and solitude. outstanding! also: reno remains the only city in america where i lit myself on fire, richard pryor style, at a blackjack table no less, and survived to tell the story. i think that scene might deserve its own entry sometime.
work brought me to here and when my co-worker and I landed, we were met outside by a jeff fisher lookalike, which tickled me. while primarily known as the head coach of the tennessee titans, jeff was also a backup safety on the '85 chicago bears. just like jeff, our friend was mustached , with dark hair slicked back, some gray hair, paulie walnuts style, wearing sunglasses and furiously chewing gum. Da Bearsssss! was all i wanted to say for a straight hour, but i bit my tongue and instead sat back in the minivan and soaked in the sun drenched eastern sierra landscape. our van took us down US 395, another nevada landmark. diving deep into wide valleys, we could see miles of arid space edged by stunning peaks, their edges sharpened by the dry air. irrigation systems were working extra time to squeeze a bit of alfalfa out of the desert, alfalfa soon to fill the tummies of cows who will be t-bones and baseball gloves when they grow up. this desert, marshaled by gambling, whoremongering , sister-ogling nevadans, is the unlikely starting point for your quarter pounder with cheese.
in minden, nevada, we had meetings in a room with wall to wall windows, a 180 degree view of the high desert. there, i sat in quiet awe of the mountains spread out before me like a granite fan, while technologies were discussed around me in impossibly uninteresting detail. when it was my turn to speak, my computer failed to project on the screen, and i again I was stung by the familiar pangs of a misplaced decade. after all this time, and all this loathing, the computers finally hate me more than i hate them.
we wrapped up our business in minden and headed north where i caught a quick flight to LAX. there i would be met by my little perisan pal, and the weekend would finally get started...
