City reputations can be like sound waves. They echo out, and the farther you are from the actual city – like, say, Sacramento – the older they are. And when you get to that city, that out-of-date rep still rings in your head and takes awhile to clear.

I bring that up because Elaine Gale, a relative newcomer to Sacramento, wrote an affectionate account in the Oct. 18 Forum section of how she's fallen for this region, which happens a lot. But in describing this as a generally tucked-away, quiet town, she also showed a little about how Sacramento's image – the genuine, solid picture of what this place really is – is still under construction.

First some disclaimers: I know Elaine. She's a smart, perceptive person, a communications professor at California State University, Sacramento, and, actually, a Facebook friend of mine.

Elaine is like many newcomers and like lots of people living far away, still adjusting their views of what this city, emphasis on the urbanity, really is.

Sacramento's old reputation is hard to shake, in part because there was a long stretch when it was more or less accurate. To non-locals, this was a quieter, pass-through town close to lots of better places. "Better," of course, was relative, and Sacramento suffered in comparison to so many more grown-up West Coast cities.

San Francisco, Los Angeles, San Diego, even Seattle and Portland, became bustling urban centers decades ago. Sacramento, on the other hand, was typical of a lot of state capitals – secondary cities, stable but unexciting, partially because government creates a stable but unexciting environment. This was (and still is) farm country, too, also usually a less-than exhilarating kind of region, and there were few major corporate headquarters to push economic or cultural growth.

That doesn't mean Sacramento was a wasteland. It was a neighborhood- and outdoor-oriented region that was comfortable to live in. But those aren't qualities that build a shining national rep.

By the 1970s and '80s, the Bay Area and Southern California were getting expensive, and Sacramento was starting its slow boom. The central city started showing some sparks, the nightlife and cultural scenes were evolving, and this was an entirely different place from even a decade before that. But you wouldn't have known it by the way some people talked about the place.

And that's the other piece of Sacramento's sometimes skewed reputation. Declaring this city "minor league" is a handy scare tactic and mobilizing tool that gets trotted out by everyone from developers to politicians, going back at least to the wrangling over the first Arco Arena permits in the early 1980s. It's been the default talking point for almost anyone who wants something – zoning, money, votes – and usually there's some implied threat about the Kings. But sports don't define a city. Cincinnati has Major League Baseball and professional football and it's still, you know, Cincinnati.

The thing is, for people who've been in Sacramento for a few years, and to all the people in Northern California who've come to know it, Sacramento is a cool town, a loud, animated, arty, living, morphing city – with all the good and bad that entails.

It's filled with young energy, an enthusiastic foodie culture, a serious restaurant scene, booming art and theater communities, a strong streak of wine country, and flocks of bikes. There's no big city on the West Coast with more of a bike culture, and it reaches from the young people roaming midtown, to the folks riding around east Sacramento or Land Park late at night. There are also big city problems, including poor neighborhoods, racial issues and crowding roads.

People who've lived here maybe five, maybe eight or 10 years, know all that, the bad and the good, because we've seen the changes. We've seen the central city fill in with clubs, lofts, galleries and life, and places ranging from Folsom to Roseville and Rocklin develop their own scene. We know how we can't keep up with the new restaurants and wine bars and galleries that are opening, even in a rough economy.

And loads of Northern California people know all that, because they've visited. I wrote a couple weeks ago about how I keep hearing from folks who live in San Francisco or Napa or Sonoma who come to Sacramento for a weekend, for the food, for the feel, for the vibrant dynamics of a city still reaching its peak.

My friend Elaine wrote – with fondness and a smile – that Sacramento is a late bloomer, maybe a beer-drinking B student with a few tats, and a reclusive writer and gardener. The thing is, Sacramento has loads of tats. If anything, as a student, it got plenty of A's – with the occasional D because it got distracted – and it's now an engaged young adult on a cruiser bike. It goes out, sometimes pretty late, eats well and locally, and it drinks good tequila or wine. It does garden, though. It likes its tomatoes fresh.

Rick Kushman has been in Sacramento more than 20 years. He, too, took some time to get its old reputation out of his head. Call him at (916) 321-1187. Listen to him Tuesdays at 8:40 a.m. on NewsTalk 1530 (KFBK).