Hey, Dwaine Caraway: You Can Be Either One of Us, or One of Them.

Lose that number: We've said it before: Buzz has a soft spot in our cold, dead heart for Mayor Pro Tem Dwaine Caraway. Chiefly because of his entertainment value, but there's this too: Like us, he often trips over his own tongue. He enjoys the occasional game of poker. His parties can get a little loud, leading the cops to show up. (Buzz party rule: If the cops don't get called, it just wasn't that fun.)

Caraway has an endearing common touch, and Buzz is nothing if not common. Our friends and family frequently say so.

So, as one commoner to another, Buzz has some free advice for Caraway: Lose police Chief David Brown's number. If you ever really need a cop, just call 9-1-1 like the rest of us.

Buzz spoke with Caraway briefly Tuesday after the Morning News reported that the city is seeking a Texas Attorney General's ruling on whether the police must cough up records concerning the January 2 visit "an elite team of Dallas police investigators" paid to the home of Caraway and his wife, state Representative Barbara Mallory Caraway. Caraway originally claimed two friends, Arthur and Archie, had caused a ruckus over a football game. Then he said it was a dispute with his wife, as police originally reported. Unfortunately, Caraway called Brown about the dispute, which is something the rest of us can't do. That smacks of uncommon privilege, and reporters get their backs up about that sort of thing.

Caraway told Buzz he'd rather not talk about the issue anymore, and we understand. Trust us, he's not the first man caught trying to talk fast to a copper. Arthur and Archie, though? What, you couldn't think of a name from lower in the alphabet?

Oh, well. Buzz supposes we can take comfort in the fact that for a politician, Caraway's not very good at improvising bullshit.

Having the city try to block a common records request because the records might be "highly intimate or embarrassing" and are of "no interest to the public" also seems a bit elitist, and makes you wonder if Caraway ever met a reporter before, or a member of the public for that matter. Intimate and embarrassing are Nos. 1 and 2 on the list of things that interest us.

Our point? Caraway can either be good ol' common guy Dwaine, or he can be the sort of self-important, privileged wanker who calls the police chief directly and has city lawyers try to censor the public record. He can't be both, and Dallas already has plenty of the latter.