The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same

A small piece of the story of Melissa and I, not to mention the city of Reno, passed quietly into history last night.

If you live in Northern Nevada, or perhaps Northern California, you have probably seen evidence of the fact that downtown Reno is undergoing a serious building boom, one which is probably still in it's early stages if the plans of developers are to be believed. The most noticeable change going on downtown is the much-heralded conversion of old, unprofitable, and in some cases completely derelict casinos into state of the art condos. You can read a very good (though already somewhat out of date just two months after having been written) summary of the various condo projects going on in Reno here.

One of the projects that is changing life--hopefully for the better--in downtown Reno is the conversion of the Golden Phoenix Casino--formerly the Flamingo--into something called The Montage (all these developments need to have very snooty names). Here's what the Golden Phoenix looks like today:

The developers who are planning to convert this behemoth into condos will be shutting the casino down for good on December 6. No links or photos are available on the web as to what the developers are going to be doing (you might want to get on this, L3 Development), but the plans call for a complete overhaul, replacing the hotel-casino with condos, lofts, rowhouses and retail space.

One unfortunate aspect of this closure is that The Top is closing as well. The Top is, as you might guess, a lounge on the top floor of the hotel. This place holds special meaning for me, because Melissa and I went there on our first date. The Top was one of those places that, much like the Phoenix itself, never quite worked out. This fact has always perplexed me, since The Top undoubtedly had best 360 degree view of the city and the surrounding mountains, and the atmosphere felt urbane and sophisticated. Perhaps it just never figured out what it wanted to be. It tried presenting itself in various ways: It failed as a dance club because it attracted way too many lowlifes and wanna-be gangstas. It failed as a mellow jazz lounge because, well, c'mon, this is Reno, and no one comes to Reno to enjoy a mellow jazz lounge (not yet, anyway). And it failed as a fine restaurant because, in my mind, it was too hard to get to and, to put it bluntly, was a little too nice for much of the crowd that frequented the Golden Phoenix.

Last night was The Top's final night, and Melissa and I were there in honor of the event. The lounge already doubles as a sales office for the development company out of Chicago that is turning the Phoenix into condos, but the atmosphere was still the same, the food was great, and the views were spectacular as always. I'm sorry to lose the place.

In the end, however, I think it will be for the best. Frankly, up until this year downtown Reno had been in a state of decay for years if not decades. The city had become a smoky low-rent Vegas, which is already a pretty low-rent place to start with. Despite all the neon and cheesy glitter, downtown had become the domain of transients and petty criminals, full of liquor stores and tacky t-shirt shops. It had become the sort of place decent people didn't go, which was probably another reason a nice place like The Top didn't work there. In a lot of ways, downtown is still that sort of place, although these days you can sense a change, particularly as you get closer to the river. The new movement currently underway to transform downtown from a haven for junkies and schizophrenics into a place people are happy to call home is making great strides (the video at this link is again already dated, but you get the idea). Unfortunately, there's still a long way to go.

Last night, as Melissa and I were walking to the Golden Phoenix to visit The Top one last time, I noticed a commotion at the corner of 2nd and West Streets. This is a corner where a lot of new construction has been going on to in the name of yet another condo conversion, turning the horrible old Comstock Casino into a nice development that's being called Riverwalk. When I looked over, I saw a man fall helplessly on his butt into a small ditch that had been dug for street work. He looked like he might have been hurt, and so I ran over to see if he was okay. As I ran up the street I saw him try several times to climb out of the little ditch (which was a foot deep at the most) only to fall back helplessly to the ground every time, as if his legs simply didn't work.

When I got over to where he was I asked if he was okay. He didn't answer, just continued to try to fight his way out of the tiny ditch on his uncooperative legs. Finally he turned a filthy face up into the light and looked at me with completely uncomprehending eyes. I held out a hand so that he could grab it and I could pull him to his feet. He took my hand but made no move to pull himself up. As he did this a wave of smells washed up from him; mostly liquor, but lots of other unpleasant things as well. After several tries I was able to get him to his feet, but I practically had to hold him up to keep him from stumbling right back into the ditch again. The poor man was beyond drunk, and obviously had no where to go.

I tried to steady him, told him that he should probably find somewhere to sit down before he hurt himself, and we went on our way. When we got to the Phoenix, I told their security where the man was (less than a block away) and asked them to call the Police to do a welfare check. I don't know what became of him.

I kept thinking about that man the whole night. He represents two problems that the city faces as it attempts to transform itself. One, no one is going to want to live in a half-million dollar home (which is what some of these condos are going for) if guys like this are stumbling around their front door, or if police officers are getting shot on those very streets, as one was on that block a couple of months ago. Two, although this man obviously has a drinking problem and from the look of him was probably homeless, he is still a human being and he can't simply be left to rot in the street. If we turn downtown Reno into an attractive neighborhood that doesn't abide this sort of thing, this man and those like him aren't simply going to disappear, and I for one am not comfortable with the notion of pushing him down the block and making him someone else's problem.

Reno is becoming a very different place. In two years, I think it will be almost unrecognizable compared to what it is today, never mind what it was two years ago. But there are a lot of problems yet that still need to be dealt with.

In any case, I'm glad Melissa and I got to relive our first date before the winds of change made it impossible.