Mad about Ron
We finally learned last week that Ron Kirk can get righteously angry.
Buzz has been waiting for the city's celebrated mayor to spend a little of that enormous popularity on both sides of the Trinity to take a stand on something. Anything.
Remember Townview and a school district still crackling with racial tension? Buzz thought, 'Now's the time for a real leader to step into the breach.'
But Ron deftly sidestepped it.
When John Wiley Price pitted blacks against Hispanics by calling Parkland Hospital board member Jamie Ramon a "coconut," all eyes turned to Ron. He adamantly refused to engage.
On the arena issue he may have flexed muscle, but it was all behind closed doors. The only statement he did make, oddly, was to support former Mavs owner Don Carter, who had the temerity to point out that a lot of people would balk at attending sporting events in Fair Park.
Faced in Dallas with an almost perfect vacuum of leadership, we wondered: When will the city's first black mayor step up to the plate and take a swing?
Finally, last week, Ron took his stand. It seems the mayor didn't care much for KXAS-TV Channel 5's "Tarnished Star"--hidden-camera, not-so-hidden-checkbook journalism that Marty Griffin swears catches Dallas Cowboy Michael Irvin buying cocaine.
"This was the most disgusting thing I've seen on TV," Kirk told a panel on media ethics.
Sure, your barber (or dentist or plumber or toddler) said the same thing weeks ago. But, for Mayor Ron, it's a first step toward actually publicly offending someone.
Is this my color?
Don't you love those stories of courage and adaptability in the face of natural disasters? Torrential-rain-whipped folks, jaws set, working together to pass the ammunition, sandbags, gas, whatever.
The storms last week that deprived parts of Dallas of electrical power for minutes and even hours provided many of these stories of fortitude and community.
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Buzz would like to share just one. It was Saturday, the final day of the semi-annual Todd Oldham sale. For those who are new to high Dallas culture, the Oldham sales pack 'em in, shoulder to shoulder, in a sweaty buying frenzy. While Todd's seven tiny dogs yap and snap at ankles, scores of Dallas' fashion elite huddle in a common dressing room trying on fabulously priced clothes.
Unimaginable disaster struck the Governors Row warehouse about noon. The storms hit and the power went out. You couldn't see your designer dog tags in front of your face.
Some folks would have panicked, surrendered to fear, and put away their gold cards. Not these shoppers. They drew upon that final reserve of grit and Dallas can-do spirit. Bics were flicked, candles lit--and the sale went on. "You can feel if it fits," explained one of the courageous survivors.