Blame it on Reno

 

I haven't been to Reno in years.  I used to go there quite often. In fact it was the first place I gambled when I turned 21.  Honestly, to a 21 year old from Boise, Reno seemed like the height of sophistication.  It wasn't until I went to Las Vegas for the first time that I realized Reno was blue collar and Vegas was...well Vegas. 

When I started going to Reno it still had lots of the old casinos like the Nevada Club, Harold's, Harrah's and the Sands. Most of the old casinos are long gone. But I still like the old casinos. I never really did much but play slots. Table games stressed me out. I played a bit of Black Jack when I first went there, but I just never like the stress of knowing when to hit or stay. And casino dealers don't have a lot of patience for people who don't move quickly. 

So I sat at the slots with the blue heads and plunked coins in until a cocktail waitress gave me a free watered down drink and rolled her eyes when I didn't tip. 

At one point a college friend of mine moved to Reno and worked in a casino as a slot host so I went to visit at least once a year. He had been the photographer on my college newspaper and was one of the people who taught me how to develop film and print photos. On a couple of trips we drove around taking photos in a series we were going to call the art and architecture of Reno.  It was a joke because at the time Reno was basically a white trash mecca. 

I am a bit embarassed by the photos now because I was going through a pony tail phase. 

This last photo show this great old dive bar called the Zanzibar. I took tons of photos of it. It has long since closed and eventually burnt down.  But I imortalized it with a colorized version of a black and white photo I took when it was still hopping (by Reno standards). I turned it into a mock travel poster playing off it being in the deepest, darkest Reno.

Today I added some of my Reno stuff to my t-shirt shop.

If none of them sell, well, I can blame it on Reno.