The Blonde started crying after the doctor told her she was going to have twins.
He tried to console her asking, “Are you not happy about having twins?”
“It’s not that,” she answered. “It’s that I don’t know who the second father is.”
-
Three Drunk Mice
They bravely approached the rickety old card table like they owned the place. As mice, I am supposing that they really did own it, as no one, I am told, had visited their dark, dungeon-like world in three or four years and that’s generations to a common field or church mouse.
At first I didn’t see or heard them as they joined me at the table. Nor did I realize they were even there till one was bold enough to move to my right to see what it was that I was scribbling in my note book.
“Nothing of interest,” I imagined him saying as he rejoined his small posse.
Now that I knew that they were there, I couldn’t help but eye-ball them from time to time, to see what they might be up to or interested in. Fortunately for me I didn’t have any food, or I might have found myself swarmed like the rats did to the various humans in the movie, ‘Willard.’
Unfortunately, from my tres amigos, I had liquid reproof in an all-purpose metal flask tucked in the side pocket of my bib over all’s. And while I had intended it for medicinal purposes only, I saw no harm in sharing a small amount with my new friends.
The first dribble from the flask into the metal lid went down fast with all three. Now they grew excited and raced across the table, over my hands, over the newspapers and my notebooks.
I offered a second dribble, filling the lid as full as possible.
Again it was met with a certain greedy haste. And again, all three three mice sprinted from here to there and back again.
I couldn’t help but laugh a their carnival show-like antics jumping, flipping. spinning, and bouncing to-and-fro.
Then the smallest one of the three, sat up on his haunches and shook his head so vigorously that he toppled over the edge of the card table to the rocky floor below. While I jumped up to see if the poor thing was okay or if the fall had broken its neck, I swear I heard the other two, as they looked over the precipice from where their mate had gone, laughing and guffawing.
By the time I got to where the mouse had fallen, it was gone, and by the time I returned to my seat, the other two had vanished as well. The furry little miscreants, while in their throes of hilarity and cuteness had also robbed me of the lid to my flask.
A quick walk around the table and I found it where they had dropped it in their panicked flight to avoid the foot steps of the invading human.
“Jus’ for that,” I chided them with full gusto, “No more for you!” and I turned the flask end up, downing the content.
I never saw my old chums again, concluding that blind drunk, they were sleeping off the effects of my gift, which serves them right.
-
Sanctum
“Down the hall and to the left, that door,” she pointed as she escorted me to the ‘stack,’ her term for where all the old newspapers and magazines lay unmolested.
Anywhere else, am certain, it would be called the ‘morgue,’ the place where old, dead newspapers are left, numerically cataloged to die in pieces, and in peace, withered away by time, ravaged by mice and pack rats or simply forgotten and sealed off from the rest of the known universe. In this event, whatever one might call it, it was an old, but well framed mine shaft, hidden some 15-feet beneath the floor of the towns public library.
I am marveled at what I’m seeing!
The shaft is not very deep, much more a hollow then anything else, less than 50-foot by 30-foot and around 8-foot in height. It is then that I realize that dug-out is purpose made and it makes me smile.
“A secretive piece of heaven, hardly visited,” I whispered unknowingly.
A metal folding chair, a seat filled with a light layer of dust held parliament mid-room, waiting for my company. It beckoned me to drag the rickety and tattered card table, a long-time companion, sitting still folded and dirty covered over, to keep us all company.
It feel like home, the one we ate at as children while the older folk sat at the big table, enjoying Thanksgiving and Christmas turkey. I shared the memory aloud and I believe it felt grateful for the long forgotten jog it felt of days such as that.
Above me swayed a single light bulb. It too, along with the green enamel pan-shade, were touched by the ever present dust of age and forgotteness. I spent a few minutes cleaning both and eventually having to feel my way to the stair case, up and out, because the bulb could no longer live with out its outer garment of filth.
Unceremoniously, the librarian tossed the now dead bulb in the trash and handed me a new one. She felt no concern for the aged bulb and I had to turn away before I said anything, knowing it was her family and not mine, for I’m but a visitor to her bookish Queendom.
New bulb in place, I moved quietly through the four aisles of papers, each cased in a heavy wooden frame and guarded by a chicken-wire window. Each top paper is coated in a fine grit, thicker than the grit that has found its way between the hundreds of pages beneath it.
I sneeze as the finer silt becomes airborne and I know I am right where I must be and in love.
Eighteen-fifty, the oldest broadsheet I will find and I am joyful as I sit down, my friends surrounding me and we enjoying one another and our contemplative company. My mustered-colored Carhartt coat still on, a flask of brace from the chill tucked in my bib-over all pocket and I feel like I have all the time in the world, as I read and take notes.
From time to time, the light above me sways causing my casted shadow to quiver, dance and dodge among the stacks of magazines and century-old penny-dreadful reading material. It too, my shadow that is, is enjoying the freedom we have found underground.
And while I can see them, I know tiny eyes are watching me, curious as to what the human beast is doing and might do should one of the small rodents grow brave enough to investigate the activity that its generation, and the one before, has never seen. Courage in a mouse doesn’t take much time to muster as I find three visitors seated at the edge of the card table watching me and each without fear.
They are my company in this chilled room, a secret garden that I’ve been given privilege to behold. Soon, I am jolted from my lettered revery of a kind female voice reminding me that the library closes in 15-minutes.
Folding up the table, I also fold the chair, whereby I place them against the far and bare wall. I imagine that they will chat among themselves, along with the mice and now-handled newspapers and magazines of the day a visitor came and stayed all day.
I draw one final breathe from the antiquated air, pull the door closed and leave a fantasy world behind me.
-
Commie Tommy
The hum of the steel-belted radials on the gray gravel ribbon of highway and vibrations from my trucks engine are still with me as I easy myself back onto my bed. Two-hundred-ninety miles two ways, two overnights and it is good to be back home again.
It’s amazing the length that I have to go to in order to find an open library with a catalog of old newspapers and magazines. Because of COVID fears, Nevada is again heading towards full-closure and I had to race time and distance to complete my desired task.
The first night, I arrived a little late, so after checking into my tiny motel room I set out to the local McDonalds for dinner. I went left out of the parking lot on foot since I’d seen the restaurant about four blocks back as I was coming into town.
My dog, Buddy was a happy companion that evening. He did not have to eat the dry dog food I had waiting for him in the truck.
A quiet night followed as I watched a station out of Salt Lake City and learned no more about the world than I would had I left the idiot box off. We slept well and come the next morning, I took Buddy for a walk and prepared his food.
He’s a good traveler and comfortable being by himself.
Entering the old library building, I had to wear a mask, having to keep it on until alone with nearly 170-years worth of old newspapers and magazines. Dust from decades of storage and disuse filled the air, the odor of aged paper and ink waft about the small cellar room as a single bare light bulb in a pan-shade, hanging from above, swung slightly as someone walked along the floor, my ceiling.
Like Casablanca, romance and a touch of melodrama.
On and on, piece by forgotten tidbit: Gus Richards escapes vigilante justice but does 10-years in the Nevada State Prison; Three miners fend off a rabid coyote with a slab of bacon; and the first time a palm prints was used as evidence in a court trial. And though I’m no closer to knowing if Wyatt Earp really did bartend in Goldfield or if the Hole-in-the-Wall gang pulled their final bank job in Winnemucca, I did fill a notebook and a half.
I also found the information I was hoping to locate. Yay, me!
By the time I left the library, it was already dark and the wind was blowing bitter and I found myself shivering before I could get my truck door open. Once back at my room, coat on, I took Buddy for a walk out back of the motel, then fetched him more dog food and fresh water, before going to get myself something to eat.
This time I walked to the right as I left the motel and towards a Burger King which was only a couple of blocks away. I would not make it that far.
Past the narrow alleyway that separates the motel from its neighbor, came a bzzt…bzzt…bzzt, the unmistakable sound of a neon sign trying to fail. And I couldn’t fail to see it, bolted fast to the wall above a door, its red and white glow beckoning me to enter the tavern within.
Darkness to darkness greeted me as I slip through the doorway and moved to the bar. The dark was soon replaced by a few low hanging lamps above four deserted tables, a lengthy glow along the bar displaying the distilled drinkables and the pallid and ever radiating glare of a television tuned to FOX News.
I had entered ‘conservative territory’ and suddenly felt at ease, but not quite at home.
And my fortune showed good as I heard ‘buy the house a round,’ while taking a stool. The voice was lost at the end of the bar where two men sat, huddled in conversation, drinking and smoking.
Quick, so as not to miss out, I said quietly, “Whiskey, neat.” And as fast as that, my night begun its sideway spin.
Several shots in and listening to the hot-air gas-bags talk about proof here and proof there, I found myself getting pissed. Talk, more talk, all talk, nothing but talk and not a shred of physical proof.
“Effing blowhards!,” I complained loudly at the TV. “Show me some goddamned proof or jus’ shut the fuck up.”
Quietude, so quiet that I am certain even the TV went silent following my outburst.
As I forced myself to glare at the tube, I could feel eyes burning their way through me. I dared not move my head to look at any of the men, including the bartender, who also stared at this interloper who dared to spout a misaligned opinion.
Finally, “What’s your name, Bub?”
Here it comes I think, as I answered, “Tom. Yours?”
“Gary,” came the voice in the dark.
The silence was long and loud as I sipped my drink.
“You gotta problem with Trump?” the voice identified as Gary asked.
“Not him,” I answered, “But all his fucking talking-heads. They talk a good game but have nothing to show for it.”
“Well, let me tell you something Commie Tommy…” came Gary.
I interrupted, “What’s that Gary the Fairy?”
Downing my drink in a single gulp, I stared into that dark portion of bar, where no one moved, no one spoke.
Finally, the bartender commanded, “Come on — you need to leave.”
I did and there was no tip for him.
Outside, the wind was now a gale and bitingly cold, even with the jacket I had on. The outside lights to BK were off and looking towards Micky D’s, I concluded it was too far to walk and risk getting picked up for ‘public intoxication,’ though I was no where near drunk.
My thought process is such that I wouldn’t put it passed the bartender to ‘drop a dime’ saying, “I kicked a belligerent drunk guy out of the place and he’s walking south on Idaho Street.”
Instead, I headed to my room where Buddy was happily waiting. He was really biting at the bit and needed to get outside, so we rushed out back of the motel once again.
As he took care of his business, small flakes of snow began pelting us.
Done and back inside, I stripped and crawled between the sheets wanting to warm up and fall asleep. The wind though insisted on visiting and it grew noisier by the minute.
It had found a small space in the window frame to whistle and whine. Then it buffeted my motel door, which I was fast to learn, hung loose in its frame.
“Womp, womp, womp,” it banged in and out at each new gust.
By this time Buddy was on alert, all hackles, growling and half-barking at every sound. I couldn’t get him to quiet down and began to worry that someone might complain.
Finally, I grabbed one of the two chairs that accompanied a small table, and slipped the back of it under the door handle and hefted it into place. The door stopped rattling and a certain peace came to the room.
Finally — time for sleep — or so I thought.
After an hour, I found my self still awake. So I grabbed my cellphone and though not my intention at first, I proceeded to burn up all my available data, picking online arguments, trying to get others to understand how stupid it is to listen to a bunch of gas-bags on TV, radio and newspaper and never see a piece of physical evidence.
Meanwhile Buddy maintained his low, vicious sounding growl all night and into the early hours of morning. Needless to say, I was half-exhausted by the time we left the room.
We stopped and got breakfast at Taco Bell and before crossing that long, lonely, wide-open space of land, the great Nevada basin, where the only broadcaster I could pick up was an all talk-radio station. Not even the Christian radio station, the one I can always count on, was clear of hissing static.
And guess what the talk-radio gas-bags were yammering about? All the evidence the Trump team has on hand, proving that the election was rigged.
Aargh! Off went the radio and I continued my lengthy journey homeward brooding in silence.
Back in town, I had one more stop to make: the veterinarian hospital to pick up the cremains of Yeager. I backed in to a parking spot, and since they are allowed only so many people, if any, inside the clinic, I called to let them know I was there.
While waiting an old, white-faced black lab came out with one of the technicians, who handed the dog’s leash to it human. Buddy saw the elderly pup and went crazy, whining, crying and jumping from the back of the cab to the passenger seat and back again.
“Oh, Buddy, I’m sorry,” I said, knowing he’d never understand, “But that ain’t our Yaeger.”
It didn’t help. He continued his fit, which caused my heart to ache.
Gladly, I was called to the door to pick up the box I’d arrived for. As for Buddy, he eventually settled down.
An now that I am home and resting, laid back and relaxed on my bed, I find myself thinking about a kid I knew and how he came to our home for dinner once. I can still see him sitting in a chair we had in the corner of our living room.
I also recall the dogs dancing about him, excitedly trying to entice him to pet them.
However, he refused, clearly uncomfortable with their presence. Thinking back, I knew that something was off about him, especially now, since he’s in prison for the rest of his life.
Drowsily, I scratch Buddy behind his ears as he lays next to me.
-
From the REAL Reporters Notebook…GAK!
Lots of times I must rely on my reporters notebook in order to maintain any sense of organization. This last weeks notes nearly got out of hand, so I thought I’d share them with you…
Virginia City’s Veterans Day a Success
The annual Veteran’s day celebration came with a slight twist this year because of COVID-19. The Veterans Day Cruise as it was known was opened to walking groups and vehicles.
“We felt it was important to find a way to show veterans that we appreciate them and that we care,” Deny Dotson, Tourism Director for Virginia City Tourism Commission, said. “We wanted to do something in a safe way that adheres to the current guidelines, but demonstrates our appreciation for those who serve our country.”
Participant lined up at the Fourth Ward School, located at the junction of U.S. Routes 342 and 341 at C Street and proceed south through town.
And just in time for the event, personnel with the Nevada Army Guard’s G Company, 2/238th Aviation Unit returned home following a tour in Afghanistan.
“All 60 soldiers in both rotations of the 2/238th Aviation unit’s mission to Afghanistan are home safely in Nevada,” said SFC Erick Studenicka of the Nevada National Guard.
The soldiers had been in Afghanistan for the majority of this past year performing medical evacuation missions. Their return marks the conclusion of their mission with Operation Freedom’s Sentinel.
A demobilization ceremony had been scheduled for Friday was canceled due to COVID-19 concerns.
Storey County’s DMV Closes Temporarily
The Storey County DMV is closed until further notice with no reason given. Residents are asked to visit dmvnv.com for other DMV locations and online services.
Meanwhile COVID Numbers Climb
Carson City Health and Human Services is reporting 369 new cases and 26 additional recoveries of COVID-19 in the Quad-County region. Of these 369 new cases, 343 are prisoners in the Warm Springs Correctional Facility, bringing the total number of cases to 2,638, with 1,948 recoveries and 27 deaths; 663 cases remain active.
The breakdown of numbers for Storey County are 26 people, with four of those being active cases and the remaining 22 listed as recoveries.
New COVID Hotline Number
Carson City Health and Human Services (CCHHS) has announcing a new phone number for the Quad-County COVID-19 Hotline. Starting Tuesday, November 17 the phone number will be (775) 434-1988.
The hotline is staffed Monday through Friday, 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. The change is required to handle the volume of calls regarding questions about COVID and the number of people interested in being tested.
CCHHS will continue to offer testing to Quad-County residents with and without symptoms. Drive-thru COVID-19 testing events are for Quad-County residents only, all others will be turned away.
Residents can call the Quad-County COIVD-19 hotline at (775) 434-1988 to be assessed for testing. All COVID testing offered through Carson City Health and Human Services is free of charge.
Dayton Chamber Awarded COVID Cash
The Dayton Area Chamber of Commerce and Visitors Center has been awarded $14,150 by the Nevada Commission on Tourism, the as part of the COVID-19 Rural Recovery Grant Program to print 40,000 Dayton and Mound House map and brochures. Earlier this year, the Chamber was awarded $3,500 for 10,000 maps.
The grant increases the amount of maps to be printed and now includes a wider distribution area that covers northern Nevada, Reno, Carson City, north and south Lake Tahoe, three Welcome Centers, in addition to 140 sites in the California Gold Country.
Sisolak’s Friday the 13th
Nevada Gov. Steve Sisolak has tested positive for COVID-19. He’s the third person in his office to test positive for the virus. Two weeks ago, the governor’s office announced an unnamed Carson City-based staffer had tested positive for the virus. While early October, Sisolak’s COVID-19 response director Caleb Cage also tested positive.
New Deputies on Duty
Nevada Peace Officer Standardized Training ceremony saw three new Storey County Sheriff’s Office deputies graduate. Congratulations deputies Doston, Smiley, and Heffner. We look forward to your service to the communities.
People Helping People
The Silver Springs Senior Center would like to thank the Over The Hill Motorcycle Club for their very generous donation of $500.00 to go to help purchase Christmas Presents for our home bound Seniors.
Burn Permits Available
Storey County Fire Protection District has begun issuing open Burn Permits for the fall season 2020 through the Spring Season of 2021 and are valid until the last day of March 2021. To renew a permit from last season or to request a new Burn Permit, please call Station 71 directly at 775-847-0954. All new burn permits require a site safety visit.
Holiday Garbage Pick-up
Waste Management said that there will be no collections on Thanksgiving, Christmas Day or New Year’s Day. Please note: This is specific to Virginia City only. The Rainbow Bend/Canon General Improvement District and the Industrial Park area off USA Parkway will not be affected.
Seasonal Closures
The Historic Fourth Ward School Museum and Archives has closed for the closed for the season and will reopen to the general public on May 1, 2021.
Local favorite, Tommy Knockers, the bar, has also closed up for the winter months. No date’s been set for reopening yet.
Lyon County Makes International News
We have it on good authority that the Asian news media is keeping an eye, not only on Nevada as a whole, but Northern Nevada in general, as they follow the outcome of the Silver State’s US Congressional election.
“Rep. Steven Horsford of the 4th Congressional District and Rep. Susie Lee of the 3rd Congressional District defeated their respective Republican opponents in what were considered two battleground races in Nevada,” writes Christina M. Oriel, managing editor of the Asian Journal Weekly Newspaper.
Horsford, a Democrat and former state senator became the first African American to represent the Silver State in Congress, received 50.8 percent of the vote in his bid for another term. He beat out Assemblyman Jim Marchant, who received 43-percent and Libertarian candidate Jonathan Esteban who took 2-percent.
His district covers southern Lyon County, most of northern Clark County and all of Esmeralda, Lincoln, Mineral, Nye and White Pine counties.
“Thank you to the residents of Nevada’s 4th district for reelecting me and I am so incredibly honored to continue serving #NV04 in Congress,” Horsford wrote in a Twitter post.
Meanwhile, Republican Rep. Mark Amodei of the state’s 2nd Congressional District easily won reelection with 56.4 percent of the vote defeating Democratic challenger Patricia Ackerman.
More on the Asian Connection
According to Asian and Pacific Islander American Vote (AAPI,) a nonpartisan civic engagement group, there are more than 209,000 eligible AAPI voters in Nevada, about 11 percent of the state’s electorate. According to the 2010 census, it is in Nevada that their numbers have been increasing the fastest.
Robin Titus Reelected to Caucus
Members of the Nevada Assembly Republican Caucus have unanimously re-elected Dr. Robin Titus to be Caucus Leader for the 81st Legislative Session. She was first elected to represent Nevada’s Assembly District 38, which includes part of Lyon County, in November, 2014 and was reelected after winning the Republican primary election in June.
Titus has represented her district in three regular and two special sessions.
Nevada’s Democratic Supermajority Defeated
Republicans will return to Carson City next session with three more Assembly seats and one Senate seat, stripping Democrats of their supermajority in the lower chamber and narrowing their majority in the upper one. Democrats still maintain a 12-9 majority in the Senate and a 26-16 majority in the Assembly.
Bad Luck on Friday the 13th
Nevada Governor Steve Sisolak recently test positive for COVID-19. He continues to isolate and monitor symptoms. The only symptom he has experienced is mild head congestion. Sisolak has been discussing a second closure of the state as COVID cases increase.
COVID Cases Continue to Rise in Lyon County
The Nevada COVID-19 Mitigation and Management Task Force met with eight counties flagged for having an elevated risk of transmission of COVID-19 including Lyon County.
The county’s been flagged for more than two weeks with an elevated disease transmission having experienced five weeks of COVID test positivity higher than 8 percent of people tested and a cases rate per 100,000 population greater than two hundred. The latest report shows where the majority of those positive cases were from:
- Contact with a COVID case (58 percent or 87 cases)
- Visiting a grocery or retail store (32 percent or 48 cases)
- Eating at a bar or restaurant (18% or 28 cases)
There were also two cases associated with the Mason Valley Residence outbreak during this period.
County Manager Jeff Page advised all Department Directors and Elected Officials to have employees work from home where possible. All Lyon County Offices will remain open until directed otherwise.
Meanwhile the state’s task force has approved the county’s action plans has also requested to have additional information from OSHA and Department of Business and Industry be included in the next report.
New Fernley Senior Center Opens
Lyon County and the City of Fernley are celebrating the opening of the new Senior Center and Human Services Office at 105 Lois Lane, behind the Fernley Depot. The project is the first part of what is eventually hoped to become a community center complex. The 18,000-square foot, $8.6 million facility replaces the old senior center on West Newlands Drive, but is only partially open to the public because of COVID-19 restrictions.
Lyon County School District Spawns Winners
The Nevada Association of School Boards 2020 Awards has recognized four Lyon County School District employees. Josh Wiley, at Silver Stage Middle School, ‘Innovative Educator of the Year;’ Billiejo Hogan, principal at Fernley’s East Valley Elementary School, ‘School Administrator of the Year;’ John Stevens, ‘Individual School Board Member of the Year;’ and Wayne Workman, ‘Superintendent of the Year.’
Dayton Man Sentenced to Prison
A Dayton man who robbed a Lake Tahoe home has been ordered to spend up to 3-8 years in prison and must pay back $657,984.78 that he stole. Miguel Guevarra Gacuma, 31, admitted looting the home’s safe while he was a home healthcare worker.
Road Work Continuing
Overnight lane closures are underway on Interstate 80 between Vista and Mustang through Nov. 27, as the Nevada Department of Transportation (NDOT) resurfaces the interstate for enhanced friction and driving safety. Meanwhile, lane and ramp closures are in place on USA Parkway near Interstate 80 while NDOT completes repairs to a raised concrete median damaged in a previous crash.
Thanksgiving Travel in Nevada
Thanksgiving travel is expected to see a slight dip this season as coronavirus cases surge. AAA Nevada anticipates a 10 percent decrease, marking the largest one-year decrease in anticipated traffic volume since the 2008 Great Recession. So far, there are no statewide travel restriction in Nevada.
The Old Blog in the Desert 