Return from Reno

Sorry for the blog break, but I have just returned from a five-day jaunt in Nevada.

My friend Scott is a photographer with multiple accounts in Reno. He periodically hires his desperate and dollar-challenged friends (i.e. me) to assist him on these gigs.

Scott specializes in school photos for private pre/schools and has really made a name for himself. Remember those awful photographers we had to deal with when we were kids? If you blinked or smiled funny, you were stuck with it till next year. Not with Scott.

He'll go to any length to get the child to smile or stop crying. Eight or ten exposures? If that’s what it takes, sure!

When playing photographer, Scott becomes someone else. Suddenly, this cool, bearded guy who calls his friends "mate", loves a good pint of Guinness, and has a weakness for classic Depeche Mode, transforms into this duck-quacking, "got your nose" clown. The kids leave him with a smile and a high-five. His friends who see him in this context wander away in a dazed fugue state.

But none of his friends rib him too much about it. Not when mothers gush and actually cry when they get their child's pictures. Yeah, he's THAT good.

The thing about school photography is that Scott seldom double books a day. This means after rising early in the morning and taking photos for, say, four hours straight, the day is over at noon. What's there to do in Reno Nevada to fill the day?

Drink, of course. (We're too frugal to gamble.)

And that is exactly what Scott and Steve and I did.

(Oh, Steve is another guy Scott hired to photograph and assist. Steve is from Hungary and speaks with a thick accent. Steve's name isn’t really Steve. Steve's real name is unpronounceable to our weak American tongues. Oh, one more thing... Steve is looking to get married to get his green card. There is pay. Write me if interested.)

With Scott accruing years of experience in Reno, he's gotten some help in discovering the local color via a guy named Dave. Dave tends bar at a super cool place downtown.

I find Dave intimidating because he's the kind of guy I wish I could be. An unstoppable grin, Dave is greeted by friends wherever he goes. And he seems to have a knack for zeroing in on people and connecting with them quickly.

I thought I’d summarize my time in Reno with a mini-diary.


Sunday September 28

We arrive at the Comfort Inn in Reno somewhere around 2am. We blow up an air mattress for Steve. When Steve says my name he pronounces it "COH-deeeeee!" which makes me laugh every time.


Monday September 29

Scott and I are at the Kangaroo Learning Center while Steve is elsewhere in town. Teachers here are (unusually) HOT!

At night, we meet Dave at work at the bar. He comps us drink after drink. Only 3 other people besides us are in the place. We’re talking and I ask Steve something about life in Bulgaria.

"I’m from Hungary," he says.


Tuesday September 30

Day 2 at the Kangaroo place.

After lunch, the three of us nap in the room and watch a little "Twin Peaks" on DVD. Steve had insisted I bring it, and another TP fan in the world is always a plus. At night, we head to Dave at the bar and drink. I marvel to Steve about what life must be like in Bulgaria. It’s now one of our many running jokes. I begin to wonder if Steve doesn’t like me making fun of his accent.

Dave takes us to a very special bar called Peyton Place. The somewhat worn looking chick tending the bar gushes over us four "gorgeous guys." Looking around at the competition, I don’t think any of us would argue. Dave buys us all shots of Jager. He pokes fun at Steve’s accent and I know I’m in the clear. Now even Steve is howling my name, lampooning himself. "COH-deeeeee!"

More Jager.

Peyton Place is not a typical bar. There are "movies" playing on the TV's. At this time on Friday or Saturday, there would be debauchery going on right where our drinks are sitting. There are special rooms in the back of this place.

Dave asks the bartender if she'll show us the back rooms (empty). She obliges. There is a seating area with several couches. The room has a window that looks into another room with a doctor's exam table. A bedroom, kitchen, and shower are nearby.

We assumed that no one actually lives here.

More Jager.

Scott and I play video games with a woman (way to lasso the guys in!). This young lady had earlier asked Steve if he wanted a girlfriend. Steve declined. (He must have completely blanked on his need to get married.)

The bartender invites us to stick around till midnight. At that time, a woman, her husband, and their friend will be coming over, and she’s certain they'll want us to be with them in the back rooms.

We depart Peyton Place at 11:46pm.

Next door is a bar called Redrum. The place is well lit and cool and we're all in love with the bartender. Dave gets Steve and I to do two more shots of something I can’t remember.

Dave puts $20 in the bar poker machine. Within twenty minutes, he's got $60 and climbing. I hate Dave.

I head over and put "Blue on Black" by Kenny Wayne Shepard on the jukebox. Steve and Scott look at me blankly, but Dave cackles with delight and gives me a drunken hug. I’m his new best friend. Dave's won well over $100 now, but I don’t mind so much.


Wednesday October 1

The morning alarm goes off and we barely move. I don't feel as bad as I expected. My condition was probably helped by my two trips to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Scott goes to a solo shoot while Steve and I head out at 6am to a school in Carson City called Adventures In Learning. We're both green and purple.

We find the school empty. There is a sign on the door.

"School Closed. Building sold."

We call Scott and he says to go back to the hotel. I'm sorry about the loss of work, but I choose to see this as a "glass is half full" situation and am very happy. We go back to the hotel and to bed.

After dinner, we head out to find Dave at his apartment and watch a little baseball. Dave wasn't feeling so good today either. We go to Dave’s bar and watch some karaoke, but turn in early.


Thursday October 2

Another pre-school success is over by lunchtime.

Scott, Steve and I meet up with Dave and spend a little time at the casino. I wander away from the guys and sit at a $5 blackjack table. The dealer has a king showing and the guy at the table's head doesn't hit on his 13. I question this and he says he's just "playing the odds." Like many a blackjack moron, he's forgotten he's playing against the dealer. I bust, the dealer has a 20 and everyone loses.

"COH-deeeeeeeeee!" I hear in the distance. Twenty feet away, Dave cackles and waves. His impression of Steve is better than mine.

We head out to a nightclub called "Metropolis." The line stretches way off, but Dave knows the door guy and we bypass all of them. Once we're in, our cover is comped. Again, the power of Dave.

Ah, clubbing. The electronica... pimply faced boys thinking they're men... incredibly gorgeous girls way too young for me... I find the whole scene mesmerizing, but in a way I haven’t fully realized. On the one hand, I think of the parents of these teenage girls who have leaped atop the bar to gyrate with one another. If only they knew. But on the other hand, I'm alive and buzzing and find the club a metaphor for my entire week.

We have all left real life and slipped into this envelope of alternate reality. It is the outside world that is the illusion. All I feel is the love of my friends, my vodka collins and the rhythm of the music. There is no tomorrow. Every human being in the room is a brother, richer from this experience.

Steve, Scott, Dave and myself revel in the moment and toast to our adventurous week. This night is the capper to the week. Scott and Steve will be returning to Reno next week for more work, but I'll be back to life in LA. "You have to come back next week," says Dave. He offers me his apartment. He says he'll cover my meals and drinks if I come back with the guys next week. The offer is real. I think about it...


Friday October 3

Up at dawn. Scott is the only one hurting, and he has to catch a plane and be back to LA for a Rehearsal Dinner. But first we have another school.

We're off to "St. Albert's Child Development Center." A little boy, Kyle Plyatt, refuses to have his picture made. He's not a crier, he just "doesn’t want to." Scott starts to run through his list of tricks, all of which I’ve seen work at different times. Not this time. Kyle is onto all of it and won't walk anywhere near the photography set-up. Probably 10 minutes pass with all of these tricks failing. For me, this is unchartered territory. The great child photography frontier.

Scott turns off the umbrella lights and they begin to cool. "No pictures," he says to Kyle. "Shutting everything down." Scott and the teacher play near the photo seat and (somehow) Kyle wanders in to join them. Talk turns to Peter Pan. "He’s in my camera," says Scott. "Do you want to see him?" Kyle is interested but reminds us, "I don’t want to get my picture made."

Kyle finds himself sitting in position and Scott hits the camera. The "off" lights FLASH unexpectedly. "Did you see Peter Pan fly out of there!?" he asks Kyle.

Kyle beams, excited, "Yes!"

Scott fires off another picture. Then another. Somehow, someway, Kyle is seeing Peter Pan in the flash and is delighted. Kyle's mom will have no idea how much effort went into this.

And Kyle has no idea how he has exhausted the already-spent photographer.

We drive Scott to the airport for his flight (Steve and I will drive the truck back to LA). I ponder the city of Reno. "If Vegas is Sin City," I ask, "What’s Reno?"

"Slum City," says Scott.

It's a joke, but not really. There is an underlying sadness to this place. Little growth. Littler opportunity. It sparkles and dances like Las Vegas, but fails embarrassingly. Compare it to Tahoe, but Tahoe has that whole "one-of-the-most-beautiful-places-on-Earth" thing going on, leaving Reno way behind.

As Steve and I hit the freeway home, I know I have enjoyed my friends and my week in Reno... but there is a victory in my leaving. I can’t wait to get home.