By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
By Lauren Drewes Daniels
By Anna Merlan
By Lee Escobedo
Enough for a ticket?
It's easy to think Fredrick "Lico" Reyes is joking when he tells you he's suing the Texas Rangers for 35 bucks. Hard to take seriously a man who sends legal documents accompanied by photos of himself dressed as a construction worker (named Manuel Labor) and a bandito (Pancho Tortilla). Seems that's how he makes his living -- as an actor, magician, etc.
Reyes, who runs for Arlington mayor even when there aren't elections, claims that the Rangers owe him $35.67 -- his share of taxpayer money the city spent condemning 12.5 acres of land used to build the Ballpark in Arlington. Reyes contends that the city and the Arlington Sports Facilities Development Authority, which pitched in $135 million on the Ballpark, are footing the bill for an additional $7.3 million the Rangers should pick up.
"It's a question of principle," insists Reyes, whose case is scheduled to be heard before an Arlington justice of the peace on July 21. "I have nothing to gain. In fact, I make the Rangers and Tom Hicks and George W. Bush mad at me, and they're powerful people. But the money is owed to the citizens...The bottom line is Mr. Hicks and Mr. Bush are much better businessmen than the city's caretakers."
Buzz has never put much stock in the moral pronouncements of born-again sinners. Blame it on tent revivals. Each summer in the small town where Buzz grew up, the striped preacher's tents would set up and stamp out newly minted converts from the ranks of the dissolute. They'd be handing out tracts in front of the A&P the next day -- the former teenage fornicators, smokers, drinkers, and bad-asses who had spent the previous school year making our bookish life miserable. Buzz would glance in these converts' eyes and see, behind the thousand-yard stare of the recently jeezafied, a look that said: "I would gladly kill you for a Kool." Lord, it galled us to receive religious instruction from people who had way more fun in sin than we ever did.
That probably explains our rude lip noises when we saw that born-again Gov. George W. Bush is telling America's children they shouldn't screw. "For children to realize their dreams, they must learn the value of abstinence," the former hellraiser told a South Carolina audience this week.
Actually, George, every red-blooded American teenager's dream is to have sex.
What is the hottest real estate in town, according to D magazine? The real estate the editor of D owns, of course. First, let us say that we like the M Streets as much as anyone else, but does this 1920s-era development deserve the gush it gets in July's D?
Yes, if D editor Mary Brown Malouf, who owns a little place on McCommas, has anything to say about it. "Young people are buying up the M Street cottages as fast as they list 'em," the magazine reports. "You can sell a fixer-upper for around $250,000." Sounds like an Ebby Halliday "top producer" on little white pills.
What Buzz doesn't understand is why Malouf's quarter-million-dollar fixer-upper was worth only $157,000 on the tax rolls last year. Sounds like the appraisal district needs to revisit at least one M Street account.