I’m pretty certain that out of all the events in Reno, the “Street Vibrations,” festival is the most hated by locals.  I can understand why, in a way, it is the end of the summer, some people are starting to kick rocks over the weather finally starting to change for the colder, they may also be “evented out,” and the noise and folks of the event may just push them over the edge.

Personally, I grew up with motorcycles and cars, so it really isn’t too much for me to deal with 10,000 of them versus 10 of them.  It’s all the same.  I’m not a fan nor a critic of  “Harleys,” or their riders, I’m honestly more of a Triumph guy myself.  Motorcycles, as I see them, are about riding, freedom and independence rather than a huge gathering of supposedly like-minded individuals and just buzzing around a town like Reno.  So this event means little to me, and  has even less appeal because I’d end up going for a ride in the Sierras rather than deal with downtown.

I’ve always been a Balloon Races hater, myself.  Yes, the innocent, early-morning rush of quiet, floating, colorful cloth in the sky.  Not sure why, I just hate them.  Maybe it’s because they’re so cheery and innocent.  Not that I like exhaust-belching ‘57 Chevys, dueling, racing airplanes or 10,000 motorcycles better.  Hell, you don’t have to do anything to avoid the balloon races.  I just don’t like hot air balloons.  I’d rather go make paper dolls.   Ergo, I just don’t care.

One thing that, opinions aside, happens in Reno is the passion we feel when we hate or seriously dislike something, especially an event that has been created for commerce in this town.  No one needs to be asked twice (or even once) if they dislike an event.  More point to the matter, they tend to extend themselves, their attitudes and worse yet, their driving, into the worst possible part of most of these events:  the commute.

As a lot of you know, I went off into the quiet hills for about four days, bringing little with me besides the desire to escape, a kayak, a fishing pole and an MP3 player.  Getting back left me feeling great, relaxed, accepting, with a new lease on things and a mind to go with it.  Very un-Reno, especially considering the event that was happening upon our return.

Yes, I hate to say it, but Reno has some really tense people.  They are usually not relaxed, accepting or considerate.  A lot of Renoites are downright assholes.  I don’t really mind this, as dealing with say, a snotty self-proclaimed elitist from Seattle for five minutes is much worse than dealing with a Renoite.  Renoites think they are self-important and don’t need a reason (goddammit!) while someone from Seattle will hand you a pre-printed list of why they are so great, what all they do and who exactly they know.   No, Reno folks, especially the lower-class ones, will stare you down, swagger and spit coming your direction down the street, and really stretch the “big fish in a little pond,” position they have.  The ones slightly up the “Reno ladder,” will do similar things, but vehicularly.  I have never seen people assert their superiority in traffic the way a Renoite does.  You don’t drive in a lane in Reno, you ARE your lane.  You OWN the lane.  If you are in the right, slow, pathetic lane,  you do everything you can to speed up and get out of there, lest someone drive by and gawk.  Can’t go fast enough?  Well, that’s fine, too!  You show those morons how driving fast gets them nowhere and just go extra slow!  SCREW THEM!  A turn signal is your key to sumission in Reno, as it tells other drivers not only your intent, but how to make sure they keep their “spot,” in traffic.

It’s all particularly ridiculous.  It’s small-town driving meets big-town attitude.  Since we’re relatively all pretty much broke that live here (well, meaning, we’re not rich) and this town isn’t big (not Fallon, though), we still have to keep up with the Jones’ (San Fran, L.A.) and act like we’re someone.  It really is an act.  There are few places that the swaggering trash-heap spitting and giving you the burger-eye can be told “Fuck off,” and he’ll just talk about how much he wants to kick your ass– but won’t, or if you ignore the light flashing, honking and cutting off games in traffic… how no one does anything to follow through with their threats.  In big cities, a look or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time can get you jumped or stabbed.  In Reno?  Pfff.  No.  Not really.  I rarely hear of things like this here.

Nope, we’re just assholes, apparently.  Countless people I’ve encountered that either move here or visit mention this, the tenseness, the bravado, the needing to prove… something… in this town.  I mean, look at this website.   That’s how things like this are possible in an almost consequence-free environment while still having the “passion.”  Leaving town and talking to those freshly here really holds a mirror to our lives and ourselves here, and yeah, we’re a bunch of tense, unforgiving, elbowing whiners.

Which brings me to our events.  Us asshole Renoites bitch about them.  Hell, I myself am not a big fan, but probably for reasons not considered by the masses.  The masses here probably don’t have time to think too deeply about why they hate these events, working at warehouses (I raise my hand), Wal-Marts and restaurants really are important jobs and we can’t be bothered with things like a few extra people to raise revenue, now can we?  No, I didn’t think so.  And you can piss off if you think otherwise.

What strikes me as funny, getting back into town from the relaxing camping trip, is I see thousands of bikers milling around, and what happens to me?  I’m suddenly cut off by a pickup truck on 395 going south exiting to Stead Boulevard.   Doing 75, he had to do 80, slam on his breaks as he gets in front of me, and exit.  The funny part was, there was no other traffic around.  I got “owned.”  This happened subsequently trying to exit the freeway myself as someone zips in behind me and eats the bumper of the guy I’m trying to get behind, and refuses to let me exit.  Honking all the while, like “Fuck you buddy, you lost.”

The next few days showed a certain tenseness in town, beyond the usual.  I ended up going out just yesterday to hit up some thrift stores, and entering 395, there’s bikers everywhere.  The lone maroon Dodge Durango cuts from the left lane all the way to the exit lane to Moana, as I am entering from Plumb.  He sits door to door, blocking me.  Glaring at me.  He almost hits a biker.  Biker honks.  Yells something.  Tries to force me off the road.  I just sit there.  I’m not getting on the 395.  I didn’t care.  It was almost amusing.   My passenger is puzzled as well.

Okay, so we’re assholes.  How many bikers cut me off and gave me problems during the event?  None.  How many Hot August Nights participants really put me out a few months ago?  None.  Air Race participants?  Can’t think of a one.  I wish even a Balloon Race hot air balloon would have landed in traffic to give me some fodder to complain about, but nay, nothing.

Since Reno, for better or worse thinks it really is hot shit, a big fish and can suck up their chest like a little guy facing off a big dude, we really get pumped up about “being local and hating our events.”  The real story is, our police departments (et al) really do a good job of managing the flow of traffic, keeping the dickwash out of everyone’s day, and the proper event coordinators keep the events as quelled as possible so they don’t interfere with our lives.  This really is a fact.  I know this because I’ve seen bad years of Hot August Nights.  In fact, I think we all gear-up and fear and nail boards to our windows expecting a large storm, however, it becomes just a gust of wind.  We however, will talk about how shitty that wind is, how awful it will be next year and how we wish these stupid events would just GO AWAY.

I’ve been there.  I do also have a mind enough to realize it isn’t that bad.  Our own local attitude is proving MUCH more irritating and even dangerous  manifesting our worst anger  within ourselves in spite of the events at hand.  We’re really the annoyances and enemies to each other out there, event or not.  Knowing this, will we change?   Probably not.  We won’t admit fault.   We’re motherfucking RENO!

2009 is over, and I’m glad.  It hasn’t been a particularly good year for anyone, anywhere.  It was supposed to be a new beginning because 2008 wasn’t excellent either, but 2009 was  real shit-stinker.  I always equate winter with “killing off,” the bullshit of the year, and for me, the Street Vibrations winding down really does mean summer is over.  There will be one again next year, don’t worry.  I just hope it goes a little better.

I’m not sure what to do about our fellow Renoites who seem to have a hair-trigger for just about anything that passes them by.  Go get a massage or a facial somewhere.  I don’t know.   I mean, you all are fun to be around, but also equally funny when you folly around us.  I’m sure I’ve been the subject of someone’s toying on the road for a laugh too when I’ve been in a rush.  There’ll be more fun in 2010 when we do it all over again.

Welcome to Reno.   Can’t wait for next year.

GR