Retooling Rural Nevada

Just what counts as "rural" in Nevada in 2008 is always an interesting question. After all, by one simple statistical standard (and the one most often quoted), 92 percent of the state's population is "urban." (It's a fiction, but read why, farther down.)

And given the problems that most Americans have with any form of higher math (beyond counting on our fingers), that's not, strictly speaking, correct; the 92% figure doesn't include Carson City (which also happens to be the State Capital) as "urban," because it failed to reach the threshold to be considered an "urban" place in the last census. That, naturally enough (for Nevada), is a data point that's been long since eclipsed: The city and county are way beyond the 50,000 figure, now. Add that in, and the dimensions of the state's urbanity starts to look a whole lot different.

How "urban" is Nevada, in fact? Well, a look at the geographical distribution of the population (which requires both a bit of consideration of the numbers, and also a look at the extraordinary form of counties in the Silver State — which are oddly formed in no small measure because when Nevada was brought into the Union, the federal government was desperate to have a northern-allied state in the Far West) would show something remarkable.

Truth to tell, somewhere on the order of 96 or 97 percent of Nevada's population is "urban." That's a convenience for national politicians who are coming into the state (whines in the national and local press to the contrary notwithstanding), but it also means that the "rurals" (as they are genially referred to in-state) are really left on the margin of the state, in terms of access. But the joy of all this is that Nevada politics remain remarkably "rural" oriented: much lip service is given to the state's rural folks, and their influence in the State Legislature is vastly greater than would be suggested by absolute number. Part of the reason for this is simply relict. Newcomers take a while to get into the habit of voting, caring, and involving themselves in local politics — so the bigger decisions are left up to those who actually know how to make things happen, and have been around for a while. It's a tradition, and we all know about that.

But that's not the main theme I'd intended for this post — it's the charming story of "discovery," which is clearly alive and well just outside of Carson City. In the delectable burg of Stagecoach (which used to be a large collection of hortatory billboards just to the east of Carson City), one of the long-standing residents is about to see ... a makeover! Seems one of our reality TV (I keep typing "TB," which probably is a reflection of mossback sentiment) shows is coming to Stagecoach to do an "extreme makeover" (read: demolition and rebuilding) of a local family's 720 square foot mobile home. To which I can only say, "praise the Lord." 

There are dozens of such burgs in Nevada, and the people who live there lead great and engaging lives, I'm sure, and it takes an accomplished snob like James Howard Kunstler to get on a very high horse (see his Geography of Nowhere) and denounce the inexpensive real estate that the local folks have at hand. And the renunciation and aesthetic high-handedness will be there, in quantity, but just 'cause opinions are there don't make them right. About which, 'nuf said.