On And On We Go

I'm so tired of this. Twenty seven U.S. troops have been killed so far this week in Iraq, killed by an insurgency that's been 'on it's last legs' or 'in it's final throws' for well over two years now. Twenty seven sons, brothers, fathers. Twenty seven men who loved this country and wanted to believe that they were doing some good in the world. Twenty seven more victims of an arrogant government that went to war when it didn't need to, invaded a far-away country that posed no threat, and fatuously presumed that the people of that country would happily accept a foreign army as liberators. And still so many of us are neck-deep in denial. Heck, I'm surprised that they haven't yet tried to claim that this week's deaths are further evidence of how thoroughly we're winning.

I dunno. I just can't talk about this anymore. If people don't see this mess for what it is by now then they're never going to because they simply won't allow themselves. Let's talk about something else.

Last Tuesday I went to see Reel Big Fish in Sparks. Not my usual Tuesday night, and the dive in Sparks that we saw them in is definitely not my usual hangout, but someone I know is sort of in to Ska, so I figured what the heck.

It was a good time, except for trying to find a place to park (see the Hot August Nights information below). I took away two thing from the experience. One, it was kind of neat that I guess I looked just threatening enough that the guy at the door felt like he needed to search me for weapons before letting me in. Two, I am way, way WAY past the point of seeing anything of value in moshing. Also, I'm way too old to be going to concerts on a Tuesday night.

It's also worth mentioning that we're deep into Hot August Nights here in the Biggest Little City, and like pretty much all Reno residents I have VERY mixed feelings about the whole event. For those who don't know (which is probably everyone who's ever going to read this blog) Hot August Nights is a weeklong classic car celebration of sorts. Owners of these lovingly-restored vehicles gather from all sorts of places to "cruise" and take part in various themed events put on by the casinos. The problem is, this means hella traffic all over town (but especially downtown where I live), noise at all hours of the day and night, streets shut down to accommodate the "cruisers", and huge crowds of even more befuddled-looking tourists than usual everywhere you go. But most of all, the thing I can't stand about Hot August Nights is the general rise in the level of thuggery. Don't get me wrong, most of the folks who own the classic cars themselves are decent enough people. Many are old enough to remember the eras that these cars come from (generally the 50's and early 60's), and trouble is usually the last thing on their minds. The problem is that for some reason, Hot August Nights draws in every hooligan and two-bit criminal from Northern California like moths to a flame. Even as I write our jail is full of them, and it will only get worse. And keep in mind, this is Reno; we've already got a pretty decent local population of thugs and small-time hustlers, thank you very much. It's not like we're hiring right now or anything.

The event probably does bring in a lot of money to the community, and for that I'm glad (except for the money spent in all those tacky T-shirt shops and liquor stores on South Virginia). But the whole thing is a massive headache for local residents. The whole noisy, smelly affair reaches a crescendo this weekend. I'm thinking I might make it my business to be out of town.