Traffic, Grown Kids, and the Ghosts of Elections Past …

So apparently Trista Gomez is unhappy with Picon. We’ll just go ahead and say it — we’re fine with that. Now, at a meeting last night, Gomez explained why she moved: too much traffic, wanted to be closer to her kids… except, small detail, her kids are grown. Maybe without traffic her grown children will drive more often to her new home in Distrcit 3.

I’ve said it before, and we’ll say it again—why does the Nevada Commission on Ethics even exist? Yesterday’s meeting was nothing more than a backroom deal factory, where everything is conveniently confidential. Translation: citizens are kept in the dark while politicians cut themselves sweetheart deals.

It’s back. The one-acre rezoning that even the Reno Planning Commission couldn’t muster support for is rolling along — because in Reno politics, a tie vote is just a technicality, not a stop sign.

The developer’s advocate, Brook Oswald, spun it as “unique” — because, apparently, one acre of dirt is the unicorn of urban planning. “A great opportunity to do something special,” he said. Translation: stack ‘em high, sell ‘em fast, and don’t worry where the cars go.

Well, it looks like the Nevada Commission on Ethics has folded again — or to put it less politely, chicken-shitted out.

Adam Mayberry wants you to know one thing: he’s not a career politician.
At least, that’s the story he’s sticking to as he gears up for another run — this time in one of Washoe County’s reddest corners.

The Lear Theater, one of Reno’s most historic cultural landmarks, should be a source of pride — a hub of opportunity for the city to honor its past while investing in its future. Instead, City Hall treats it like an unwanted hand-me-down: an albatross to be pawned off, not a treasure to be restored.

Now, yet again, someone has come forward with a “Letter of Interest” to develop the property — and the unsolicited offer sort of has the smell of an offer that was made for 4th and Record Street. Enthusiasm is not a plan, and the Lear is drowning in decades of exactly that: empty promises and well-intentioned neglect.

If leadership is about vision, strategy, and cohesion — then Washoe County Republicans are proving once again that they’ve got none of the above. Their so-called leader, Bruce Parks, seems more like a stagehand than a director: taking cues, following scripts, and letting others ghostwrite the footnotes, easier to point a finger after failure.

In A River Runs Through It, the line “I am haunted by waters” speaks to beauty, memory, and loss. Under Devon Reese’s mayoral campaign, the Truckee River has taken on a far less poetic role: haunted not by nostalgia, but by neglect.

Reese, who now poses as the river’s great protector, has presided over years in which the Truckee became the city’s restroom of last resort. Residents don’t need campaign slogans — they need to be able to walk by the river without dodging human waste. Yet here’s Reese, standing riverside for campaign photos, hoping the public forgets what really flows downstream.

Dozens of residents showed up, pleaded, and practically begged: please don’t let neighborhood accessory dwelling units (ADUs) become short-term rentals. The council, after all, said ADUs were supposed to be about affordable housing. Affordable, for whom? Certainly not for the folks footing the bill to build one.

But last Wednesday, in a dazzling display of selective hearing, the Reno City Council did a full 180 and voted to let ADUs morph into mini-Hyatts. So much for keeping neighborhoods livable — apparently lobbyists with Airbnb tote bags get better seating than residents with concerns.

We’ve been hearing chatter from sources who used to work at Our Place that Dana Searcy, once the captain of the Nevada Cares Campus, may have slipped out of Washoe County without so much as a goodbye wave. No announcement, no update — just silence.

Well, folks, break out the campaign buttons — because yes, Devon Reese is officially running for Reno mayor. And if you feel like you’ve seen this movie before, you probably have. The script hasn’t changed much: big promises, bigger fundraising asks, and that ever-present question — who’s Reno really for? The residents… or Reese’s rolodex of developer friends?

We owe a thank-you to Commissioner Mike Clark for playing courier service with the video he mentioned at the last meeting - you know the thumb drive he had in his pocket. Since Washoe County’s public records process moves slower than molasses in January, Clark saved us the wait and handed over the footage.

And oh, what a gem it is.

Picture this: Commissioner

At the State of the County, the seating chart looked less like leadership and more like a middle school lunchroom. On one end: Clara Andriola, Alexis Hill, and Mariluz Garcia. On the other: Mke Clark and Jeanne Herman. The divide wasn’t just visible — it was practically screaming for a caption.

Mayor Hillary Schieve loves to lecture Reno residents about privacy. Question her, disagree with her, or — heaven forbid — wonder about her motives, and suddenly you’re guilty of “doxing,” accused of exposing the poor mayor’s delicate personal details.

But pour her a glass of wine at a Belleville Wine Bar, and suddenly the mayor transforms into Reno’s answer to the paparazzi. Forget city budgets and potholes — Hillary’s new hobby is flash photography.

Gosh, golly, gee wiz — who knew Commissioner Clara Andriola’s idea of “representing the people” meant doing exactly what the Washoe County Deputy District Attorney whispers in her ear? Forget listening to residents in Incline Village and Crystal Bay. Forget weighing community concerns. No, Clara’s job apparently boils down to one simple task: raise her hand when told.

Only in Reno do you cancel a hybrid meeting—yes, hybrid—25 minutes before it’s set to start because of “no quorum.” Think about that. Residents showed up in person, people were ready online, and yet somehow the City of Reno couldn’t round up enough board members to click a Zoom link or dial in by phone?

Ward 5 residents dutifully schlepped downtown, navigated parking headaches, and wove through City Hall’s sidewalk homeless scene just to be greeted by a notice of cancellation. The message? Your time is disposable.

Republicans in Washoe County have a problem they can’t just wave away with a slate card: two of their own are charging into the 2026 Reno mayor’s race.

On one side, you’ve got Reno Councilmember Kathleen Taylor — the same Taylor who just last year leaned heavily on Republican circles to squeak out her city council victory. Chair Bruce Parks and the Washoe County GOP rolled out the welcome mat for Taylor, putting her front and center at Republican events, think Parties in the Park. Some argue that support was the difference in her slim-margin win.

Back on January 19, 2024, then-candidate Clara Andriola saddled up as a self-proclaimed champion of small horse business owners. She penned an opinion piece, pledged her support, and even tossed some discretionary funds into a study. The Reno Gazette Journal gave it ink on March 16, 2024. And then… silence.

Months later, what do horse business owners have? Not reforms. Not relief. Not even clarity. What they have is a county still “studying” the problem while horses keep eating, owners keep paying, and bureaucrats keep dragging their hooves.

Oh, the great fire study fix …

Did anyone actually take the time to watch the Regional Fire Services Study Board make its debut on September 4 at 10 a.m.? Probably not. But for those who did, it was a show worth critiquing.

The board is stacked with two reps each from the City of Sparks, City of Reno, and Washoe County. Logical enough. But what’s not logical is who didn’t make the cut: Commissioners Mike Clark and Jeanne Herman — the only two commissioners with firsthand wildfire scars in their districts. Instead, we got Clara Andriola and Mariluz Garcia. Why? Don’t ask — just “call it good to go.”

If you’ve ever tuned into a Washoe County Commission meeting, you know the drill: Commissioners Clara Andriola, Alexis Hill, and Mariluz Garcia take turns singing the praises of county staff like they’re nominating them for sainthood. Not to say Commissioners Herman and Clark don’t heap on some compliments, but they avoid gushing.