Cones, Flaggers and Detours: Ah, Construction!


October 12, 1999

Editor's Note: The following column does not reflect the viewpoints, opinions or feelings of the Daily Sparks Tribune and its employees. What it does the reflect is the fact that the author is babbling and whining about road construction, which we all realize is a necessary fact of life that we must all deal with. So, in other words, please do not send us angry letters. We know Jimmy is a dufus sometimes -- and this is one of those times. Our sincerest apologies, and thank you for not squeezing the Charmin.

On a recent Saturday night, I found myself overcome with a desire to go to Sun Valley, apparently because I wanted to see some "pre-manufactured homes." (That, and I wanted to go and see some friends who live out there.)

Seeing as I now live in the Summit Ridge area (Motto: How the hell do you get to that damn Super K-mart?) in northwest Verdi, I figured I had two choices on how to get to Sun Valley: the freeway, or McCarran Boulevard. I knew did not want to go on the freeway, because I had driven that way earlier and seen signs pronouncing that there was going to be construction in the area of Wells Avenue and the Spaghetti Bowl.

I had encountered this construction before. I am not sure exactly what they are doing there, but it appears that they are randomly closing lanes of Interstate so that orange-wearing construction workers have a place to stand, scratch bodily parts and drink their coffee. When they get bored, the workers then rip up a piece of the freeway so they can see what is underneath (like Wells Avenue), have some more coffee, and then cover up the hole they made in the freeway.

So, I decided to avoid Interstate 80, and chose to do down McCarran Boulevard. Right now, those of you reading at home are probably laughing in your pajamas (presumably the kind with the feet and the "hatch" in back), thinking, "HA! Any moron knows there is massive construction going on along McCarran between Virginia Street and Clearacre Lane."

Well, this moron completely forgot about that construction. However, I suddenly remembered as I found myself stuck in a major line of traffic on McCarran near the University of Nevada, Reno.

So, there I sat, as flaggers flagged and waved motorists to go through in seemingly every direction ever conceived of by man, except for the direction I was going. In order to calm my nerves, I turned on the Nevada-New Mexico football game on the radio. Though I am not quoting this directly and am exaggerating a little (but ONLY a little), this is seriously what I heard on one play:

Announcer: David Neill back to pass, and he throws to Trevor Insley... I mean, Cle Brooks... or is that Mo Jones, and it's COMPLETE! At the 46 yard line! NO! I mean, Brooks dropped it. Actually, that's Mo Jones!.

I found this even more frustrating than the traffic, and therefore decided not to listen to the football game anymore. But eventually, the flaggers decided to end my direction's purgatory, and let us through. Then, because stupid people unfortunately breed sometimes, traffic trudged along at about 20 mph, thanks to one person in the long line of traffic who decided that the posted speed limit of 40 mph was too high.

I swear that it took so long for me to get to Sun Valley, they actually built a McDonald's and a Taco Bell out there in the time that I traveled down McCarran.

So, you ask, what is my point? I actually have several. Let me summarize:

-- Construction workers close down lanes of traffic sometimes for the sole purpose of drinking coffee and rooting around their bodily parts to scratch an itch.

-- Construction workers, who are really very hard workers, have INCREDIBLE senses of humor and will all realize that I am just joking in this column. I say this, of course, because many construction workers are large and could hurt me if they wanted.

-- There is a Taco Bell and a McDonald's in Sun Valley now.

-- The Nevada announcers last Saturday, at times, seemed abnormally confused.

So, folks, that's all for now. Thank you, once again, for not squeezing the Charmin.

Jimmy Boegle is a fifth-generation Nevadan and part-time model. His column appears here Tuesdays, and he can be reached via e-mail at jiboegle@stanfordalumni.org.

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