I do not think there's anybody on this planet that would claim downtown Reno does not have problems, because -- hello -- it does. About the best thing downtown Reno has going for it is the Circus Circus-Silver Legacy-Eldorado megaplex, and the centerpiece of it all -- the Legacy, not Topsy the clown -- is historically confused (Topsy is instead confused in other ways that are best not discussed here).
For reasons that I -- an anal-retentive historian and journalist -- do not understand, the Silver Legacy has decided for the past three years to claim it was established in 1895, rather than 1995, the real year of its opening. The hotel-casino megaresort has plastered this claim around the building. And this bothers me.
And you know what they say about bothered historians. Or maybe you don't.
Anyway, as I was saying, this truly does bother me. I chose to major in history in college because I believe that understanding the past is key to understanding the present and the future. By this logic, it is truly wrong to screw with the past -- and that is what the Legacy is doing.
Before it opened in 1995, Legacy officials concocted a story about a fictional silver baron named Sam Fairchild who, in a fit of generosity, decided to share his wealth with the citizens of Reno, the San Francisco Bay area and whomever the hell else was willing to come to his casino and share their wealth with him in return. "Lucky for you!" Fairchild spouted, with all the modesty of Madonna in a Victoria's Secret store.
To complete the illusion, the Legacy put up a "mining rig" that completely misrepresents the Comstock and what silver mining was like. Now, I admit, I was not in Virginia City when it was a great mining city -- I was established in 1975, not 1875 -- but several generations of my family were there. They worked in giant tunnels that were excruciatingly hot, potentially poisonous and often deadly. I guess that scenario does not make for a good casino attraction.
(But then again, does the mining rig at the Legacy? It is the Seinfeld of casino attractions -- it is truly about nothing. People stare at it, waiting for the rig to do something. When it doesn't, they kind of wander away, confused. Sure, the rig will occasionally dump some tokens into a machine or make a gurgling noise -- but otherwise, it's about as exciting as watching paint dry. Or reading the Reno Gazette-Journal. But I digress.)
What's sad is the fact that some people actually believe that there were rigs like that aplenty in the Comstock. I know people that think Sam Fairchild was a real person. Some confused tourists even believe the Legacy was established in 1895.
Once, I was telling an out-of-town friend that no, the Legacy is lying, and that it is actually almost 3, not 103. He looked at me and asked, "Is it legal for them to claim that?"
My answer: Yes, it's legal. But it's wrong. Kind of like Jerry Springer.
Being 103 is an accomplishment -- hell, there are old ladies that are 103 who can't even get Willard Scott to send them a cheesy happy birthday wish. A business making 103 years is even more incredible in some ways. You can probably count the number of businesses in the area that have made it 50 years on your hands, and maybe a toe or two on a foot. Maybe.
It is also hard to believe that a hotel-casino in downtown Reno could last 103 years these days; heck, 103 days is a big accomplishment considering how many buildings downtown are abandoned. But I've picked on downtown enough.
There are many things the Eldorado, Circus Circus and the Silver Legacy do well. I went to Wooster, and the Eldorado was our "Partner in Education" while I was there. The Caranos (the owners of the Eldorado) did a lot off neat stuff for us, even if it may have been for a tax write-off. And they make a borderline orgasmic mushroom ravioli. I even have a fondness in my heart for Topsy -- he or she or whatever has been scaring the hell out of children and tourists alike for years, and for some reason, I like that.
But when it comes to history and the Silver Legacy, they are lacking. They have the resources to teach what the Comstock was really like -- while entertaining as well. It also would be easy to change those signs to read 1995 instead of 1895. And it would be the right thing to do, too.
Jimmy Boegle, a fifth-generation Nevadan, also thinks John Ascuaga's Nugget should fess up to being in Sparks in its out-of-town advertising. Jimmy's column appears here Tuesdays, and he can be reached via e-mail at jiboegle@alumni.stanford.org.