By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
By Eric Nicholson
Your recent story concerning the "victims" of Kathy Kingsmore ["God and mammon," November 7] elicited no feelings of sympathy from me. There is only one reason why someone would invest his money in a scheme that promises "500 percent within 90 days" or "100 percent every 30 days." It's called greed.
These so-called "victims" are victims of their own avarice. As such, they should be held totally responsible for their own losses. I resent my tax dollars being used by the Securities and Exchange Commission to recover money for these "victims."
Lonely at the top
I want to take a minute to thank you and all the crew at the Dallas Observer for voting the Astro Drive-In theater as the best in your special "Best of Dallas" issue [September 25]. Obviously, since the Astro is the only drive-in theater left in the Metroplex, this honor was tongue in cheek, but our employees and I are thankful to you just the same.
You can't imagine how difficult it is to keep the Astro open for the six off-months of the year. I suspect it will be gone within a few years. But, for the moment, it's an American icon that's alive and well today. Again, thanks to all involved.
Molding in the grave
I just finished reading Howard Wen's piece on Dave Abbruzzese ["Un-rock star," October 24], and I enjoyed it, but I must point out one small thing that was incorrect. Wen mentioned Kurt Cobain's suicide "more than three years ago." While it seems like a very long time since Kurt left us, in reality it has only been 2 1/2 years. I'm sure this was an honest mistake, but it needed to be set straight.
After throwing both of our platefuls of Uncle Chow's Chinese delivery down the disposal, we felt we must tell you how off the mark your review was ["Distant lands," October 10]. We do agree that the egg rolls were past pitiful. They should call them "lard rolls." We live right across the street from Uncle Chow, and had never tried it because we were pleased with China Buddha (farther away, but heavenly compared to this).
We ordered the chow-mein combo and cashew chicken made extra spicy. What was delivered tasted like that canned Chinese food that you bought when you were an inexperienced college student...not spicy, no flavor, limp vegetables, fatty chicken. (The cashew chicken looked like it had some kind of red barbecue-soy sauce on it--but a barbecue-soy combination probably would have tasted better than whatever this was.)
We just wanted to let you know that we read your rave review and tried your recommendation. Eeeeeuuuuwwww. It doesn't get much worse than this. Either you're sleeping with Uncle Chow or you owe him money. And we're still hungry!
Linda and Grady Leser
Via the Internet
Save a landfill
The only other issue I can remember Donna Blumer taking a position on is grass clippings ["Promise keeper?" October 24]. Blumer has championed the cause of North Dallas homeowners who scalp their yards every spring (although most landscapers now say this is harmful to the grass), bag the clippings, and want the city to pick up the bags at curbside.
I say a much more fitting martyrdom for Blumer would be to bury her in her own backyard under a mound of grass clippings.
F. Michael Seay
I always enjoy reading Jimmy Fowler's reviews, but in his review of Angels in America ["Blood and thunder," November 7] he states: "Tyrone Mitchell Henderson, the recipient...of a Leon Rabin Award from the City of Dallas' Office of Cultural Affairs." The Leon Rabin Awards for Outstanding Achievement in Live Theatre were conceived and are presented by the Dallas Theatre League. They are awarded in 18 categories to actors and technicians from member theaters of the league. Artists are selected by a nominating committee composed of people in the theater industry. The nominees are then voted on by members of the Dallas Theatre League, as well as actors, directors, technicians, and designers who participated in plays by eligible theaters during the previous season. The award symbolizes the highest form of peer recognition.
Rita Faye Smith