The coronavirus pandemic has upended life as we know it, and no one is immune to its impact. America is adjusting to life with social distancing, self-quarantining, essentially isolating ourselves from each other. Most people surely feel like it’s been the longest few days of their lives but people like me have a bit higher cause for concern during this worldwide global health crisis.

As your U.S. Senators, we are doing everything we can to protect the health of Nevadans in the face of the coronavirus public health emergency. We must all do our part to protect our communities by practicing social distancing and maintaining high standards of hygiene. But there is another thing you can do to help our state: participate in the census.

Growing up in the wide open expanses of Northern Nevada’s basin and range, my early life was characterized by freedom and in many ways, solitude. Freedom to explore the natural world and the solitude that can only be felt in sparsely populated regions.

The kids are home, and many of us are too. Some of us are tightening family budgets to fit unemployed life, while others are working electronically from home for the first time with our kids as new coworkers. (If anyone has found the secrets to making this a peaceful transition, please share them with us all.) One thing’s for sure: our children are at home. All. The. Time. And they are have questions whether they are asking them or not.

I’m glad Las Vegas Mayor Carolyn Goodman is feeling better after her breast cancer battle.

I have a confession. I think this might be all my fault. A few months ago, I bit off a little more than I could chew, taking on a few more cases than, strictly speaking, I had time to deal with during regular working hours.

What do you do when the way you provide value to those around you no longer provides value? What do you do when the way you provide value to yourself suddenly loses all value?

Having survived a pandemic of canvassers, Nevada finds itself beset by yet another round of unwanted visitors knocking upon our doors.

Judging by the stinging reaction on social media, some people were shocked at learning that Las Vegas Mayor Carolyn Goodman said the media was “destroying us” by overhyping the seriousness of the coronavirus pandemic.

When most people think of lawyers, their imagination goes to the dramatic trial in a courtroom that has been a staple of pop culture since ol’ Bill wrote about Portia saving Antonio from Shylock with some clever legal and biological technicalities. Trial work is still an important part of any litigator’s business, of course.

If the warring Democrats ever wondered whether it was time to put down their differences and put up their dukes against a common enemy, all their questions would have been answered by attending President Donald Trump’s recent Las Vegas rally.

Something must be done. The Committee to Conduct an Interim Study Concerning the Cost of Prescription Drugs is something.

Anyone who spends any time in public schools sees the need for more resources in a million different ways, or at least sees what some additional resources can add, even when things are pretty good. And anyone who gets to work with, teach, or coach these kids – whether full time teachers or parent volunteers – wants no end to the opportunities they have, even as we who live in the real world know that there is a realistic limit to how much any community can ask of its taxpayers.

Recently, Republican Senator Ben Kieckhefer filed an initiative petition to reform Nevada’s primary elections, so that the top two vote-getters, regardless of party affiliation, advance to the general election. So far, the response has been surprising. Democrats have largely ignored it, despite the fact that the current system is going gangbusters for them. It is Republicans, conservatives, and Libertarians that have voiced the most public opposition. Some of that criticism, like David Colborne’s, has been thoughtful and persuasive. But some Republicans have rejected the proposal in its entirety.

On a sunny, cold October day in 2006, I met Gary Olsen. From the moment we shook hands in front of his office on Telegraph Street in downtown Carson City, I knew that Gary was different. He hails from Nebraska, but most people in Nevada state politics have met Gary Olsen: he's deaf, with a fringe of white hair and a perfectly groomed beard.

As a boy, I was a fan of the circus when it came to town each year. From the lions, tigers and elephants, to the trapeze flyers, high-wire walkers and trick riders, there was something about the overstated drama and scripted chaos that I found thoroughly entertaining. And, really, who doesn’t love a clown car?

It is a shame that there is often very little correlation between the ability to get one’s self elected to office and the ability to lead organizations and the men and women who run them. The former takes money, time, connections, sometimes a family name, and usually (to be fair) a lot of hard work, especially in local races where knocking on doors makes all the difference. The latter is a skill which must be learned and honed, even for those with some natural talent at it.

In Reno, as in every city, downtown either must change to meet today’s needs or it will abdicate its role as the heart of the city and become a lifeless semi-slum. Thus begins the August 1969 edition of the Reno Downtown Development Plan.