(At left, U.S. Bank construction at Mae Anne in the Raley's shopping center, Nov. 21, 2008)
(At left, U.S. Bank construction Nov. 29, 2008)
It's funny, you know. Ever since we moved up here to the new Northwest, I've seen a sign at the Robb Dr. exit on I-80 touting a Wells Fargo branch "coming soon." It's been coming soon, in fact, for nearly three years and, at present, that space is occupied by a Christmas Tree lot.
On the other hand, the first indication there was a U.S. Bank going up in my neighborhood was the actual foundation being poured as fences went up around the site. Bulldozers moved in and, within two weeks, this thing has really started to take shape.
Located in the Raley's shopping center at Robb and Mae Anne, it looks like it'll be a full-service bank branch. They seem determined to get this thing opened soon. I've seen workers on site on weekends and the latest development includes the beginnings of a roof.
It should be noted that there is a branch location inside the Safeway, a mere mile away, but I'd think the two could coexist without issue.
Updates and construction photos to follow as I see them.
Motorists in the Northwest would do well to watch for this little trap, where I've recently seen two motorcycle cops fishing for speeders. It's a great place to find yourself going a few over the limit, too. As MaeAnne dips slightly from the West and as you approach the uphill near Robb, it's definitely tempting to pick up a little momentum for the upcoming rise in elevation.
Our fine uniformed brothers and sisters at RPD know this and have seized the opportunity to grab the more egregious offenders. So, in the name of saving a few lives and a few bucks, I thought you might like to know that the corner of Valley Wood Dr. and Mae Anne is NOT the place to zip through.
November is coming to an end here in the Northwest and everywhere else, for that matter. With December comes uncertainty, anxiety and trepidation. I haven't seen change like this, personally, professionally and otherwise in my 35 short years on this earth.
If you'll take a little unsolicited advice from someone who nearly checked out earlier this year, it's this: hold close the people and things that matter most in your life. Everything else will fall away, as it should.
It's not easy being honest with yourself. But if I'm totally forthcoming, I'd have to admit that my interest in more fuel-efficient vehicles over the summer had less to do with what's right for the earth and more to do with what's right for my wallet.
So, now we're back under $2 a gallon and I'm once again happily piling into my Jeep with its horrible 14mpg average mileage. In fact, I stopped by what must surely be the cheapest place in town - The Golden Bear at 1325 N. Virginia Street (across from Lawlor) and filled the thing up for under $40. Two months ago, that trip would have cost me in the neighborhood of $80.
Now, it's damn the torpedoes, and a renewed attitude of "where can I drive you to next?" Need butter? Sure. Be right back.
But it's only a temporary respite, and I'm sure I'll be back to my greener, more conscientious, penny-pinching ways soon. For this weekend, however, I'm just happy to see a half-decent price. Now let's see if we can get this thing under a buck.
I don't know whether to think this is cool or just sad. On the one hand, there's a Mystery Machine apparently permanently parked in front of our Northwest Reno McDonald's.
On the other, it appears someone is - or has been - living in it. I'd be inclined to guess they're burner types who didn't quite make it out of the area, as planned, since I first started seeing this van around the time of Burning Man.
That, and the bikes.
I'm half tempted to dig further into this creepy, spooky mystery for the hell of it. I'll fill you in on what I find.
So, it's like this. No, Pho 21 isn't the best Vietnamese place in town by any stretch of the imagination. But I'm really rooting for it because it represents the only place to get a bowl of noodles in the New Northwest part of town, and that means something around here.
Pho 21 is a very clean establishment, usually with a bustling lunchtime crowd of professionals and families alike.
When I was there Friday, Nov. 21, 2008, the plasma TV was playing a funny Dean Martin/Frank Sinatra DVD infomercial while Chuck Mangione's "Feels So Good" was grooving along on the overhead. For like the whole meal. Seriously.
I've been lucky enough to always be served by a guy called "Marvin," but I've always thought of him as Fernando, for his strong resemblance to 1980s Dodgers ace Fernando Valenzuela. Sorry about the digression, but this point is key. Marvin knows his stuff, so look for him when you're there. A couple of visits back, I was trying to decide between a bowl of rare beef (the #8) or of beef meatballs (the #9), and - get this - Marvin suggests I order a combination of the two. Of course! Why didn't I think of that?
Then, when I expressed some concern it wouldn't be spicy enough (you know I'm a big bun bo hue fan), he spoke in hushed tones about a secret jar of hot and spicy sauce he'd be happy to bring out for me. Like an MI6 agent on a top-secret mission, he transported it to my table and deposited it with a sly wink and discreet thumbs up.
In the end, I enjoyed one tasty bowl of pho, one that was tailor made to my liking. So, don't be afraid to veer off the menu.
The only real downside I can come up with is this weird, draconian rule that says you can't use a debit/credit card for purchases under $20, and since the place is fairly cheap, it takes a lot to get to $20.
But never fear. In a pinch, you can pop into the Flowing Tide Pub next door and hit up the ATM, which doles out money in $10 increments.
So, for all the downsides, I recommend Pho 21 if you don't want to leave the NW part of town. If you're able to branch out, Saigon Pearl and VietPho are probably better choices.
Sometimes, nothing beats pounding the pavement with old-fashioned street-level marketing. Such is the case with Beck's brew house, which appears to be open for business up off of Kings Row.
This makes twice now that I've heard about the new place. Yesterday, it was on twitter. So, spending a few bucks at Kinko's and hitting the intertubes with some word-of-mouth will hopefully pay off for these guys.
Now, I just hope they are forward-thinking enough to actually serve Becks beer. Because, if they don't, you just know that's a mistake they'll never live down.
My job as a web editor at RGJ.com is to deliver the news in fresh, unconventional ways. One of the unspoken goals of what I do is to help a lumbering (ofttimes slumbering) relic remain vital in a time when our core product - a dead tree dropped on thousands of doorstops (or bushes or neighbor's driveways) - is increasingly irrelevant.
We employ live streaming video, breaking news updates, email blasts, live chat, text messages and twitter, to deliver information to a growing segment of people who simply don't care to get yesterday's news in a non-eco-friendly format.
So you know I'm sold on digital journalism.
But, still. There's something about a magazine; something about glossy double-trucks and the tactile feel of a well-designed monthly that just does it for me. Which is why, for years, I've hit up the Northwest Reno Library's expansive magazine rack with its back issues and quiet corners ready-made for flipping through the pages and discovering something new.
On a whim, I can check out six back issues of Men's Health and get my butt back in shape, until that falls away and I turn to the copies of Wine Spectator to help fuel a summer of over-indulgence. And so on. The magazine rack is there to satisfy my every moody phase, and it has never let me down, especially feeding my hunger for the otherwise overpriced British publication, The Economist.
Over the past month or so, when I've been up at the NW library, I've noticed little placards under select magazines reading, "Due to Washoe County budget cuts, this publication will be canceled effective 1/1/09"
Well, just crap.
This seems to infect about 10 percent of the magzines, with titles ranging from Make (The DIY mag) to Fast Company (a personal fave) to Adbusters. Honestly, I can't make it through a full issue of Adbusters without feeling like a total cornpone rube, but hey, it looks cool when you carry it around, right? And it's absolutely worth saving.
That in mind, I checked with the disinterested lady checking out books out front.
"So, about the magazines you're cutting..." I said.
Before I could finish my thought, she'd shoved an orange note card in the general direction of my face, saying, "you can fill this out and tell us which one you'd like to keep."
Oh. Okay. Well, good. I wasn't the only one concerned about the fate of our magazines. But still, as I wrote out my requests, I couldn't help but think of these cards being summarily rounded up like little cockroaches and swept straight into a garbage bin at the end of each shift. In other words, I didn't sense more than a token effort to hear my concerns.
Undaunted, I pressed on.
"But short of that working," I said, "What if someone wanted to make a specific donation to save a specific magazine?" What I had in mind was offering $20 to personally salvage Fast Company from certain death, ensuring it would be available to all public library patrons over the next 12 months. Then, maybe others would see my gift and want to do the same. Maybe we could do this thing after all.
She shrugged. If she were hooked up to a heart rate monitor, I wouldn't have been surprised to see a flatline. She blinked once, digging somewhere deep to come up with, "You want, I can have someone call you orrrrr.....?"
It was a big "orrrrrr," that one. It was an "or" that said, "or you could quit asking pointless questions in the last 15 minutes of my shift and let me check these people out."
So I begged her off and promised myself to return when I could hopefully catch someone who might be interested in me starting this deal.
Maybe not how I'd wanted it to go. I guess I thought the library would be jumping at a citizen's offer to pitch in and help. I don't doubt on another day, I'd have gotten a warmer reception from someone else.
My question to you - all Washoe County Library patrons - is this worth doing? Should we try to salvage some of the quality content offered to our children and our students and less fortunate neighbors who can't afford a subscription to a magazine in this tough climate?
Yeah, there are bigger issues. Diabetes, foreclosures, you name it. But this one struck me as particularly important. Any thoughts?
Reno blogger James Ball was born in 1973 and raised in North Georgia, attending the University of Georgia in Athens. He and his wife, Pam, moved to Lake Tahoe in 1995, eventually settling in Reno in the early 2000s. They live in Northwest Reno with their two boys, Thomas and Alex. James is a web editor at the Reno Gazette-Journal.
