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Granted, Texas has some beautiful scenery, but sometimes we just want to see some honest-to-goodness forest and mountains. And so we head to southeastern Oklahoma, to the edge of the Ouachita National Forest. The terrain is beautiful, with mountain lakes and rivers and thousands of conifers (though you may need a four-wheel-drive in some areas). For camping, head to Beavers Bend State Park (about 3.5 hours from Dallas) or for a less rustic romantic or family outing, pick any of the log cabins and cottages for rent along Highway 259.
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The Dallas Theater Center will move out of the cantilevered layer-cake building on Turtle Creek when the new Wyly arts complex downtown is finished in 2009. But we're wondering if the ghost of the building's legendary architect will make the move too. Since the theater opened nearly 48 years ago, it's been part of its colorful lore that the ghost of architect Frank Lloyd Wright haunts the scene shop's elevator. Seems Wright designed DTC with no right angles (making those steps to the restrooms from the lobby particularly treacherous) and no way to lift large set pieces from the basement to the stage. Wright died in April 1959; the theater opened in December of that year. In the months between, they put in the elevator, thus enraging the spirit, so the story goes, of Wright. Late-night scene shop workers have reported sightings of the levitating head in the elevator for decades. Now that's a show.
The wonderful thing about Halloween on Swiss Avenue is that it's sort of not Halloween. On Swiss the night has evolved into something quite beyond Halloween, a phenomenon particular to the place and time. It's a strange admixture of American Halloween, Mexican Day of the Dead and who knows what else. There could be some Latvian Independence Day going on out there, and nobody would be the wiser. Or mind. Starting at dark and lasting until 10 p.m. or so, the big houses on Swiss always offer a wonderfully warm welcome for all comers. Pickup-loads of kids, some in costumes, some wearing quinceañera gowns (mostly girls), pile across the lawns in search of loot. It's a whole new kind of holiday in protean form. Not to be missed.
Lauren Drewes Daniels
With $2 drinks and all-night happy hour on Tuesday, the gay (in all senses of the word) bar at the Grapevine is a great place to get drunk after work, in part because nobody in there looks like they ever work. We're not sure what exactly the patrons at the Grapevine do for a living, but on any given night, the jean-clad, buzzed-by-4 crowd puts on the most raucous bar scene in Dallas, with nary a sorority girl or corporate stooge in sight. As soon as you walk into the Oak Lawn area bar, you'll hit the place's unique wall of sound—a seamless mix of excited chatter, drunken laughter and easy pickup lines. Nobody talks about spreadsheets, memos, depositions or anything work-related, preferring instead to bask in the glow of beer, cigarettes and good friends, exactly like a punk and gay version of Cheers, which, come to think of it, could be a very cool show.
Now so long ago, we took a day trip to Highland Park—packed the passport and a sack lunch and everything! And we took the youngster down to Daddy's former fave make-out spot: that bridge over Turtle Creek—you know the one—where every local boy's gone since the dawn of time to show off his sensitive side. On the other side of the bridge, across the creek from the trillion-dollar homes on Lakeside decked out like it's Christmas even in June, are those concrete teddy bears, cuddly, dangerous fuckers upon which we've seen one tyke chip a toof. On the street above the concrete cubbies you'll find Willow Wood Street, which makes a circle and also dumps out on Preston Road; it's like the secret route to the Batcave, hard to find. On Willow Wood's the bunker-like entrance to Deedie and Rusty Rose's $8-mil fortress, which, two years back, got a nifty add-on: the architecturally feted Pump House. It used to be the Turtle Creek Pump House and serves as "a place for the arts, a space for intellectual discussion, a temporary apartment, a playground," in the words of MESA Design Group. Them's the architects responsible for the hidden hideaway—the same peeps who did NorthPark Center and Southlake Town Square. Not bad.
OK, Off Price Shoes isn't really a store for drag queens, but because they specialize in fabulous feminine footwear in sizes 9 to 12, you just might think it is. All standard women's shoe sizes are represented, but for those guys and gals heavy of hoof, the dizzying display of plus-sized pumps is positively perfect. Wander through racks of flats, wedges, sandals, slides, boots, dye-ables and heavenly high heels. Whether you're a dude in a dress completing your Halloween drag act or merely a miss in search of stylish shoes, the large inventory at Off Price Shoes is destined to delight. And the best part? Except for boots, which run about $14.99, all shoes here are $6.99 to $9.99. Pump paradise!
The Round-Up embodies two things that are hallmarks of Dallas: gay guys and cowboys. This place was gay cowboy before gay Ang Lee got his grubby little hands on the subculture. With its seven rooms, each devoted to a different type of C&W, and each corner offering a different type of cowpoke—be he gay, straight, male or female, the Round Up stirs up a mixture of Billy Bob's and Brokeback Mountain.

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Tasti-D-Lite

If the frozen treats at Tasti-D-Lite weren't so damned tasty—and, supposedly, better for you than regular ice cream—we'd feel even dirtier enjoying them. Imported from the Northeast, where Tasti-D-Lite's special blend of frozen yogurt attracts customers even on the coldest of winter days, the Dallas franchise of Tasti-D-Lite, located near the SMU campus, is the perfect setting for soft-core visions of soft-serve. Tanned, leggy co-eds stream in and out of Tasti-D, carrying delicious dripping cones of vanilla cream in hand, softly licking each sweet bite with the tips of their delicate tongues. There are actually 100 other flavors on rotation, like graham cracker and banana and Snickers, but there's really nothing more soothing than watching a psych major suck on a sprinkle-laden dollop of 'nilla.
Jazz gets better and better in Dallas all the time, with a number of new clubs springing up and Brooklyn Café on South Lamar Street holding down the fort. But there's still nothing quite like Tuesday nights at Gezellig. The club always puts a good trio onstage on Tuesdays, but half the fun is from other Dallas musicians who just drop in to jam. Gezellig does jazz about half the time and other pre-1970s music—old-school R&B, funk, soul—the rest of the time.It's a small club with a nice, tight feel.
With its exposed brick walls, copper-topped bar and tasteful tables, Brooklyn is exactly what a jazz club should be (except it's not smoky; smoking is only allowed on the patio). This is the kind of spot to which you amble without even knowing who's on the bill. You just walk in, order your glass of wine or your Dewar's and soak up jazz of all kinds—psychedelic, guitar-based jazz (Montrose); silky vocals (Martha Burkes, KarenJ); brass-intensive (Freddie Jones Jazz Group); and everything in between. There's also a full menu, wi-fi and even a game night, so you can get your chess on while you take in the tunes.

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