AS YOU CAN IMAGINE, I have a Drummer notebook where I jot down column ideas, random thoughts, site details, and tidbits. When I use an idea, I delete it from my notes. Funny thing though, even while writing a column a week, my notebook keeps growing.

This week is a grab bag. I’ll thread a couple small topics into one column. Then I can delete it all and pare down my notes to a workable size.

First, an update: Last week I predicted a good retirement party for my wife and I on Saturday, May 9. Now that it’s behind me, I can share some details.

The party was a big success, well attended by about 60 people, and everyone appeared to be having fun. I smoked nine racks of ribs and they all got eaten. Two pots of beans and hocks were devoured. A keg of Heretic Evil Twin went dry before sunset. The sun was invited, and luckily showed up and stayed all day.

Everyone brought a favorite dish, and most took home only empty bowls. People brought favorite beverages, so we moved from keg to cooler and finished those drinks up, as well. My pinball machines were dinging and ringing all afternoon. We had about 13 children running in, out, and under. They brought great energy to the party. “Go downstairs and play pinball!”

Seven people slept over, and two families who traveled long distances rented hotel rooms down the street.

Public service announcement to guests: If you’re missing a wooden bowl, slotted spoon, red cups, a big red plate, a metal serving tray, or a gray and black jacket, they are currently in the Forgotten Items box in my garage.

Recently I wrote of my week-long stay in Reno mustering the courage to play poker for the first time. What I didn’t mention was what else we did.

Let me just say this: If you used to go to Reno for fun, but you stopped when the Native American casinos began popping up like champagne bubbles all over California, then you need to go back. Reno is having a Reno-ssance. Food is the focus now. The casinos still have the all-you-can-eat buffets, but the Farm to Table Movement has swept across the city, inspiring menu changes and new restaurants to crop up.

For a week we walked 10,000 steps a day at least. That is Sue’s Fitbit pedometer goal. We spent most of our foot time south of the Truckee River, away from the casinos, in the area known as Midtown.

Midtown rocks! There are a dozen new restaurants, four new breweries and a distillery. Gambling and the casino scene doesn’t fully define Reno anymore. Healthy, organic, locally grown, farm-fresh food, local drink, nightlife, music and non-casino entertainment describe the new Reno.

Gentrification isn’t the right word. Midtown Reno has come back to life, not because wealthy outsiders have moved in but because the young entrepreneurs who call Reno home have taken restoration into their own hands.

Years ago we found a small, busy nightclub called St. James Infirmary on California Street, with a young owner. This year we discovered he has expanded, opening a huge brewpub called St. James Brasserie. It is a brewery, music house and restaurant on Center off Virginia — an old ice plant. Inside are multiple bars and dining areas, with music on the roof. I recommend the Dixie chicken with kale and grits.

Because I was touring as a journalist as much as a partier, we hit nine new businesses in three days, introduced ourselves to the owners as reveling journalists, collected back stories, ate, drank and were merry with each one of them.

Give Reno another chance as a party destination.

In my notes under “Education” I have a few remarks that I may develop later:

“When we think education, we think of teachers, yet teachers are seldom asked to make any of the decisions that shape education.”

“If we really cared, we would reduce class sizes. That costs money, so they pretend it’s a bad idea.”

“We do not track children by ability, but we are obsessed with testing for ability. We track by age, but we do not test for age.”

Here are some random notes:

“In the future, capitalist cities will all look like Detroit because capitalists hate public funding.”

“People who watch a lot of television are more fearful of life.”

“Pinball machines are a safer investment than stock picking, or at least they’re more fun.”

“Why is my Yelp stock in the toilet? We need Yellow Pages with reviews. What’s the problem?”

“I met my Different Drummer doppelganger. Only difference, he’s loaded.”

“Our mayor loves saving water and wants us all to do the same. What is your favorite water-saving trick? What is mine?”

Susan, Gino and I attended a David Bromberg concert at Freight & Salvage in Berkeley last Sunday. For those few who know of Bromberg — intellectual folk singer with complex lyrics, age 69 — you know he stopped performing a long time ago and began making fiddles. Lucky for fans, he didn’t get rich and is now touring again. It was nice to see Freight & Salvage sold out.

OK, I’m done fiddling around myself.

Steve Gibbs teaches at Benicia High School and has written a column for The Herald since 1985.