Scenes

No ferns, no frills, no food (unless you count chips and peanuts) and no TV sports at this 50-year-old establishment, which is what a real, honest-to-goodness beer joint is supposed to be. Open from 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. Monday through Saturday and noon to 2 a.m. Sunday, Ship's offers $2 domestic beer and can serve from a couple of dozen brands. The stools along the bar are filled with patrons ranging in age from 21 to 71. There's a pool table and one of the best jukeboxes in Dallas, offering everything from Don Williams to Ray Charles. If they ever decide to open a Beer Joint Hall of Fame, this one's got to be in it.

You'd think, judging by the fact that pretty much every car south of Mockingbird Lane sports at least one sticker on its bumper/windshield advertising the driver's Tejano radio station of choice, this city runs on the upbeat of a conjunto soundtrack. You're probably right. The Arbitron ratings might not reflect that yet--maybe they would if Arbitron actually reported in all the areas that matter, not just North Dallas--but it's true nonetheless. Perhaps the best place to see and hear for yourself is Tejano West, the McDLT among local Tejano venues, where the cerveza is cold and the dance floor is hot. Feel free to explore others, but we guarantee your boots will scoot back to Tejano West.

Lizard Lounge is the closest thing Dallas has to Studio 54, and depending on how uptight you are, that's either a good or bad thing. OK, so it's not that close to Studio 54, but it does have everything you want in a dance club: good music (provided by, among others, Edgeclub host DJ Merritt), good-looking men and women (clad in materials usually reserved for the interiors of cars) and the good chance that you'll see at least one person with a lot less clothing than he or she walked in with. The last part isn't exactly crucial for a dance club to be entertaining, but it sure doesn't hurt. Madonna tried to buy it at one point; how much more of an endorsement do you need?

Some nights end badly. Some nights end with a public humiliation by the jackboot of the state in front of the teeming crowd of your peers, the assorted boozers and ecstasy-addled clubbers of Lower Greenville. After midnight you can witness the local cheese rousting belligerents on this corner, usually stuffing them into the white paddy wagon. The best part's the public frisk--always look for signs of amusement or disgust on the cop's face.

The best alternative club this year is not the same one as last year, even though both are named Trees. Since that time, Trees has undergone a significant makeover, classing up the joint (oooh, a velvet curtain!) while making it more fan-friendly in the process. Meaning: You no longer have to crane your neck around the air conditioner if you want to watch a show from the balcony, and the same goes for downstairs, where the revamped bar doesn't obstruct anyone's view of the stage anymore. But the extensive remodeling, the new furniture and a fancy light system don't have much to do with the fact that Trees is still the best alternative club in town. The reason: music. Duh. Trees is the place where you can see and hear Mudhoney, the White Stripes, Murder City Devils, At the Drive-In, Luna, Mos Def, Mogwai, Mouse on Mars, Tortoise, Idlewild and so many more. And now you can do it all in a more comfortable environment. Don't fight it.

Not surprising that The Cavern is the best rock hangout in town, given that it's named after one of rock and roll's landmarks, the Liverpool bar where John, Paul, George and Ringo played before anyone cared who they were. But the name is almost irrelevant (at least its origin is), and so is the Fab Four décor; this isn't a theme park. The bar really is a cavern, though--dark and comfortable, exactly the kind of place where you can lose yourself for a few hours inside a tumbler full of bourbon. The jukebox is full of small treasures, and on Mondays, The Cavern spins old rock and punk classics. And nothing is more rock and roll than drinking on a Monday night.

Ricki Derek doesn't look much like Sinatra, but he sounds kinda like him and, goodness, does he bring out a quirky crowd. Under his surreal crooning the bar becomes a haven for those who would rather be disemboweled by butter knives than go to the Beagle next door. There is no stereotype for the kind of person who enjoys Sinatra impersonators; they come from all walks of life, every social strata. In the dark confines of The Cavern you'll find drug-addled hipsters, aging swingers with tacky shirts and neighborhood types having a post-barbecue pint.

At most of the jazz clubs in town, with the exception of maybe the Balcony Club, the music there is nothing more than wallpaper, something to ignore, something that you won't remember five feet outside the door. At Sambuca, however, they never let you forget that the music is the reason you're there, and if you ignore it, it's not because they didn't do their best to open your eyes and ears. There aren't enough venues in town that care about jazz one way or the other, so Sambuca makes up for quantity with quality, doing it right every step of the way, from sound to talent to ambience to anything and everything else you might think of. Sambuca, at its best, provides a little bit of old Deep Ellum, a time when jazz and blues ran Commerce, Main and Elm, not developers. It's worth a visit for that reason alone.

Built in 1911, Sons continues to be the one legit honky-tonk island in a sea of bland imitators. It's one of the few venues that still books Texas and roots-country acts, and even though the Gypsy Tea Room offers many of the same performers (the Derailers, Tish Hinojosa, etc.), there is no match for Sons' atmosphere. From the long bar and jukebox downstairs to the dance floor, folding chairs and small stage upstairs, Sons is a respite of C&W joy for those of us who still love to swing, two-step and do the longneck bob.

Blues music might not have been born in Dallas, but we definitely helped raise it. It's kind of hard to remember that time now, an era when Blind Lemon was a man (Blind Lemon Jefferson, the prince of country blues) and not a crappy bar. Leadbelly and Aaron "T-Bone" Walker lived here, played here, and if you don't know those names, get yourself to a bookstore and pick up a copy of Alan Govenar and Jay Brakefield's 1998 book, Deep Ellum and Central Track. Even if you don't know those names, well, we're sure Stevie Ray Vaughan will ring a bell. Yep, he's from here, too. You can still find the spirit, if not the talent, of those men at Hole in the Wall, which is just what the name implies. It's one-stop shopping for Dallas blues.

We know Christmas is a long way off, but cut out this tip and save it for later. Christmas is a time for visits from family, and what better way to get them out of the house, ahem, we mean show them that the TV show Dallas was actually a documentary, by taking them on a drive-by tour through Highland Park? The annual tour is, after all, a showstopper, particularly along Beverly Drive, where residents spare no expense in covering every awning, tree and shrub in sight with lights so uniquely hued that even Ralph Lauren would be impressed. "Holy shit," was the response we got from the visitor we took there last year. And he's from New York.

OK. So you're going north on Central Expressway and you need to get onto LBJ. Thanks to the not-so-long-ago completion of 75, the traffic flows pretty well until you get within about a mile of the LBJ interchange. Then bam! You're stuck in stop-and-go traffic, your vision blocked by the enormous back end of a Ford Expedition or some other monstrosity. Well, as much as we hate to give this away, there is an alternative: Move over into that free-moving right lane and get off on Coit Road, which will allow you to bypass the interchange. Instead, you'll wind around a corner and find yourself right back at the entrance ramps for LBJ. From there, you just wait a light and merge back onto LBJ, having skipped over the whole mess.

The city set aside some park land at the northeast corner of the lake. Muenster Milling Co. (pet food) kicked in $25,000 to start a private fund-raising effort. And Texas Rangers broadcaster Eric Nadel did the cheerleading. But the basic act here is the dogs. They run, they play, they slurp, they jump. Amazing! This new dog park, the city's first, is the place to go to see how dogs would behave if all the human beings suddenly left the planet.

You're working at Broadcast.com doing tech support, making pretty good money, and then the company goes public. All those stock options you've been accruing are now worth a fortune. And then the company is sold to Yahoo!, and the stock is worth even more. On paper, you are now very, very rich. You are Michael J. Fox at the end of The Secret of My Success. You are Bud Fox in Wall Street before morality and legality become concerns. So you blow some of it. OK, you blow a lot of it. You get a new car--maybe a high-end SUV, maybe a BMW, definitely something black and shiny and fast--and you get a house or one of those spacious lofts that overlooks downtown. You get gadgets; you get DVD players, flat-screen TVs, Bose speakers, fancy stereo equipment. You get new furniture, real furniture, and everything on eBay you've ever been outbid on before. You get everything, because now you have money, and well, the Internet is only really starting to pay off, and this is all just the ground floor, the beginning, and you're only going to get richer and richer and richer. And then the dotcom boom turns into a bust, and the millions become thousands, or maybe even less. Maybe you don't have even a job anymore. If you're not one of these people, find someone who is and get to them before the repo men do. Make the classifieds section your bible, because yard sales are becoming outlet malls now. Kick them when they're down, because everyone knows that's the best time.

While all those silly brats in the city waste time tying ribbons on their cats and teaching their dogs not to beg at the table, country kids raise great big shiny pets you can have for dinner. If you make it to the State Fair of Texas (September 28-October 21), be sure to spend some time strolling the animal barns, where the farm and ranch kids baby-sit their sleek heifers, dwarf goats and other incredible edible friends.

Scenario: You've cleaned out your closets and your garage, and in an attempt to sell your junk instead of leaving it at the curb, you hold a yard sale. To advertise said sale, you innocently nail a sign to the telephone pole on the corner. Maybe another sign on another street corner, too. A little while later, a white truck pulls up to your house, only the driver isn't there to buy your old futon or rummage through any of your discarded clothing. No, he or she is there on behalf of the city of Dallas' code enforcement department, and thanks to those signs, you've just contributed about $500 to the city. Congratulations, you're a good citizen. Blame your unintentional good deed on a severely underpublicized law that hit the books in the last year or so, as well as the city government's long-held policy of nickel-and-diming its constituents to death. Put another way, there's a good chance if you hold a yard sale, you're only raising money to help defray the cost of the ticket you will likely receive. The code enforcement department doesn't necessarily like driving around on Saturday mornings, taking Polaroids of illegal signs, then visiting the scofflaws midsale--we've heard stories of hysterical crying jags and angry confrontations--but that is beside the point. Unless you follow the city's rules and regs when it comes to yard sales--no signs allowed, unless they're on your own property, and only two sales a year--you might as well cut out the middleman and write a check to the city.

Except for the distant whine of cars on Interstate 20, filtered through parched hills of mesquite, you'd easily forget you were anywhere near Dallas. Cedar Hill State Park, on the shores of Joe Pool Lake, offers the closest-to-unspoiled scenery you'll find in Dallas County, as well as attractive campsites and picnic areas. Lots of people come here to swim in the summer, but we avoid them and head for the web of hiking trails on the south side of the park. Amid the rolling hills and thickly scented forest and prairie greenery, we imagine we live someplace wild and picturesque, and the illusion holds pretty well until you spot a speeding SUV hauling a pair of Jetskis. Outdoor nuisances aside, you can almost always find a wilderness space to yourself at Cedar Hill State Park. Buy a $50 Conservation Pass and use the park (as well as any other state park) year-round; otherwise, the single-day fee is $10.

When it first came out, it seemed an unnecessary extravagance, something to keep rich North Dallas commuters from having to dig into their pockets, fiddle with their spare change and slow down. But with rush hour more than just a sequel, with the TollTag enabling you to live life in the fast lane by racing through the toll booth at 40 mph, with it providing a cheaper, more convenient (all major credit cards are accepted) way of travel, it's an extravagance worth having.

You all know what SMU stands for, don't you? Southern Money University. Well, even if you weren't one of the fortunate sons whose daddies footed the bill so you could attend this Park Cities institute of higher learning as a full-time student, there's still a place for you on campus. SMU offers you lazy proles out there a chance to make something of yourselves through its continuing education program, which offers nighttime courses at prices even leaf-blowers can afford. Never you mind that there is a course called something like "Art Museums of Paris" and aimed at, we can only assume, Highland Park housewives planning their spring vacations. There is a standard menu of more practical courses to be had, including our favorite, Spanish.

This is the kind of info Fox and Scully live for. Back in 1992 a fascinating and quizzical Dallas lady named Cheyenne Turner established the Eclectic Viewpoint lecture series that is going full steam ahead despite the fact she passed away in '98. Under her direction, lecturing experts in all manner of paranormal, psychic and spiritual fields have come to Dallas to share their thoughts on everything from the '47 Roswell UFO crash to conspiracy theories. There are six lectures on the schedule each year. The admission price for most lectures is in the $20-$25 range. And remember--the truth is out there.

When Centro-matic and Slobberbone perform at Gypsy Tea Room or Curtain Club in Dallas, or Dan's Bar or Rubber Gloves Rehearsal Studios in Denton, they play to decent crowds, sometimes packed houses, but getting into one of their shows is usually not that big of a deal. When they travel to Austin or Houston, they might have a good show or they might pull in only 100 people. The rest of the country, well, let's just say it's hit-and-miss. And the same goes for most other local bands that have dared to get in the van and take their rock show on the road. In Europe, however, Centro-matic and Slobberbone are practically stars; if one of their shows doesn't sell out well in advance, it'll probably be sold out by the time they take the stage. And Amsterdam is the best place of all. They play to festival crowds over there, and they get police escorts so they can make it to the next venue in time. In short, it's the perfect world, home to the kind of audience we've always thought Centro-matic and Slobberbone and a ton of other local groups deserved. They get prime radio exposure in Amsterdam--VPRO Radio recorded one of Centro-matic's live shows for broadcast on the station and recently paid for the Nourallah Brothers to fly there and record as well--and a documentary crew came to Denton last year to film Centro-matic in its home environment. Maybe this sounds like the false promise of the "big in Japan" non-endorsement, but being big somewhere is much better than being unappreciated everywhere else.

Want to know how much your boss paid for that new house she bought last year or whether the money the government says your house is worth jibes with the value of your neighbor's house? Well, thanks to modern technology, you can get a pretty good idea without leaving the comfort of your home or office. Just get onto the Internet, type in www.dallascad.org, hit enter, and you're there. This Web site, which is remarkably easy to use, allows you to search for properties by the name of the owner or the address. It also allows you to search separately for residential or commercial properties. Besides lot and building values, you can also find out things such as how many baths are in a house, whether it has a wet bar and when the house was last sold. If you're looking to buy a new home, this is a tool that comes in particularly handy.

For the chance to rub noses with a zebra (literally) and gaze into the vacant eyes of an ostrich, we choose Fossil Rim Wildlife Center in Glen Rose. It's not exactly a zoo. Few of the animals are in cages, and you drive safarilike to each zone of the 1,500-acre wildlife park, slowing down for elands and aoudads. Even the most jaded urchins are fascinated by it; you can open the windows or sun roof and let them immerse themselves in the animal kingdom. You won't get closer to the animals anywhere else in the region. Halfway through your self-guided excursion, which takes 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours (guided tours are also available for an additional fee), you'll find a café on a steep hill offering a lovely view of the park. It serves excellent charbroiled hamburgers, and beside it is a large, well-stocked gift shop. Fossil Rim has a few minor drawbacks. It's light on predators, since they can't exactly allow the cheetahs to roam among the wildebeest, and you won't see lesser life forms such as amphibians, reptiles and fish. But Fossil Rim's an easy pick over the popular Fort Worth Zoo, where every elephant turd has a corporate sponsor, and the Dallas Zoo, which gets demerit points for its policy of gassing the chicks in the petting zoo when they're not young and cute anymore. Fossil Rim's a 90-minute drive from downtown Dallas, but you'll be glad you took the time.

The Dallas Arboretum may sound like an obvious and uninventive choice, but the 66 acres offer a variety of different ways to experience nature in a quick tour and without actually roughing it. There's a bamboo forest, mulched trails through trees and wild vines and flowers, a path lined with animal sculptures, the Camp Estate's aromatic herb garden, shaded gazebos with romantic views and a smorgasbord of roses and giant magnolia trees bearing platter-sized flowers that smell almost like lime. The scenery changes each season from spring's renowned azaleas to summer's plants hearty enough to tolerate the Texas sun. This fall offers a typical example: Autumn crocus, fall-blooming azaleas and African marigold are just a small sample of the life blooming in the Jonsson Color Garden. In the Paseo de Flores garden, Firebrush and Mexican bush sage rage among ornamental grasses and tropical bedding plants. Throughout the gardens visitors can inhale the pleasant sights and smells of canna, chrysanthemum and impatiens. Besides the changing plant life, there's the four-toad fountain and A Woman's Garden with its reflecting pools, bronze statues and view overlooking White Rock Lake, all of which was featured in Dr. T & the Women.

Yes, Fort Worth is a long way to go for an afternoon together, but the scenery at the Japanese Gardens is worth the trip. Gentle paths wind through a simply arrayed blend of trees, shrubs, and stones. There are soothing ponds, in which brightly colored koi dart to and fro. There are also rock and meditation gardens, which strip visitors of their daily stress. Conveniently arranged benches provide ample space for smooching.

The Dallas World Aquarium (not to be confused with the Dallas Zoo's crappy aquarium) is one of the few places that is kid-friendly, air-conditioned and has something to offer beyond a mall or movie theater. The aquarium has exotic plants, animals and aquatic life. Kids will get a particularly big kick out of the colony of South American black-footed penguins and the Antillean manatees. Unlike some other aquariums that won't be named, the wildlife in the Dallas World Aquarium appears well cared for with clean fish tanks and other holding areas.

A few months ago, Gypsy Tea Room booked a gig by frat favorites Guster in its ballroom and a smaller, quieter show by singer-songwriter Richard Buckner in its smaller, quieter tea room on the same night. While the two stages were, at the time, separated by a hallway, a curtain and quite a bit of square footage, Guster's more raucous performance kept bleeding into Buckner's set, leading him to become visibly and audibly upset. He made several comments, and most of them made their way into a review of the show the next day in The Dallas Morning News. While Brandt Wood--one of the partners in The Entertainment Collaborative, which operates Gypsy Tea Room and Trees--said that they'd never had a complaint about the two-stage setup before, he acted on Buckner's criticisms immediately. In the next week or so, the club installed a soundproof door between the two sections of the venue, solving the problem simply and quickly. And that attention to detail, performers and customers is why Gypsy Tea Room is the best live music venue in town--not to mention its stellar bookings, including Guided by Voices, Spoon, Travis, Common, Black Eyed Peas, Alejandro Escovedo, The Roots, Mark Eitzel, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion and Low, and that's just naming a few. You are lucky, Dallas. Trust us.

Unless you're one of those who huddle at home in front of the air conditioner with Oprah at full blast, the truth is there's really no beating the Texas heat. So, you just find a way to enjoy it. No better place to do so than Joe Pool Lake in southern Dallas County. In addition to boating and water skiing, the bass and crappie will be biting. The 1,800 acres of shoreline have everything from overnight campsites to picnic areas, hike and bike trails to sand volleyball courts, a golf driving range and places for bank fishing. And there's the Oasis restaurant where you can get a great burger and a tall, cool one. Might as well be one of the 1.3 million who visit the lake and its adjacent parks annually.

Who in these parts isn't loyally addicted to the Texas-born drink that was invented in a Waco drugstore? If you're as devoted to the soda's sweet taste as you think, you need to make the pilgrimage down Interstate 20 to visit the oldest Dr Pepper bottling plant in the world. Not only has the Dublin Bottling Co. been in business for 110 years, but it is the only place where the original formula is still used. There, the drink is still sweetened with corn syrup, pure cane sugar and nary an additive, and you can load the trunk of the car with a few cases before returning home. You'll also want to visit the museum, get a tour of the plant and toss back a cool one. Seventy miles down the road, it is a trip, nostalgic and worthwhile, into your childhood.

Put the closest weekend to May 23 on your calendar if you're one of those who can't get enough of the Bonnie and Clyde legend. Just across the state line in Gibsland, Louisiana (about a three-hour drive from Dallas), the festival annually features discussions by Barrow Gang historians, a re-enactment of the 1934 ambush that ended the love birds' crime spree, a jambalaya and gumbo supper, cakewalks, live music, arts and crafts displays and a local museum devoted exclusively to Dallas' most infamous criminals.

Technically, and speaking in a grander scheme of things, the best night to be in Deep Ellum is when every single one of those annoying roof decks catches fire, when those hovering meat markets that serve as an unfortunate nexus of silicone, tanning beds, bleached blondes, leather pants, green apple martinis and Young MC fill the sky with the acrid smoke of bad taste gone ablaze. Failing that, Thursday is the night to be in Deep Ellum, with fewer gawking tourists--and as far as we're concerned, that includes anyone north of LBJ--and more good shows. Club Clearview, Liquid Lounge and Curtain Club usually have three-band bills without a single hole in the lineup, and Trees hosts a weekly showcase by B.I.O. (Base Intelligence Organization) that features DJs and electronic music acts and all sorts of experimental fare. One way or another, you'll find something you like, and you won't have to wade through a sea of SUVs and their South Beach-wannabe drivers to do it. Let them have the weekends.

Forty miles east of Dallas, the neon lights outside the old Majestic Theater will go on (nightly except Wednesday), owner Karl Lybrand III will fire up the popcorn machine, then take his place in the ticket booth. The 300 seats inside won't be filled, but there will be anywhere from 15 to 50 faithful patrons forking over $2 for a ticket to see a movie that showed in one of the big city's multiplexes a month earlier. The place is as fun and romantic as first love. One of only 100 single-screen theaters still in business in the United States, it is the oldest family-owned movie house in the country. The senior Lybrand first showed movies to Wills Point patrons in 1907. Doors open nightly at 7 p.m., and the feature will be shown only once. Don't be late, or you'll miss the previews.

If you hang around at The Green Room long enough, there's a good chance you'll see Angie Harmon at some point. Especially now: It's football season, and her husband, Jason Sehorn, is off attempting to play cornerback for the New York Giants, so Harmon, the former Law & Order star, has plenty of free time. And since this is her favorite restaurant in town--something she seems to bring up in virtually every story written about her, most of which are plastered on The Green Room's front window--this is your best bet to "accidentally" run into her. Play it safe and send a martini to her table before you rush over with questions about playing Assistant District Attorney Abbie Carmichael opposite Sam Waterston and Jerry Orbach for two seasons. If you plan on bringing up her stint on Baywatch Nights, however, you'd better keep a tab running.

It's true that Dallas is a concrete jungle, ruled by Rhino-like SUVs that are just waiting to mow down any pedestrian within steering distance, but there is one place a pedestrian can go to get away from it all. The Owl Hike at the Dallas Nature Center gives city folk a rare chance to hear the hoots and hollers of the great horned owl, the screech owl and the barred owl. On this nighttime trek the winged hunters are the main attraction, but they aren't the only stars. With the help of guides, walkers are taught to rely on their night vision and check out the other creatures that roam the night. Especially spiders, which spin their intricate webs beneath the pale light of the moon. Times of the tour vary by season, so plan before you go.

A Dallas institution passed this year, but that's no reason to avoid partaking at this venerable East Dallas institution. In fact, you should go to pay your tribute to its longtime, beehived waitress queen, Lucille Mathews. For more than 30 years, Lucille brought drinks and more than a few smiles to regulars and first-timers alike, treating most patrons with more care and concern than is found in many families these days. Example: When one customer went on a 12-week diet that did not allow alcohol, Lucille would make a pitcher of tea for him as soon as he entered. She was a woman who loved the energy and smoke and life of a good bar, and the Landing is one of the best bars. Go, lift a glass, toast her image and memory. Then do so again. Lucille would have wanted it that way.

The folks who live down that way would just as soon you didn't know about it, but this is as close to the picturesque Texas Hill Country as you're going to get. You can use Joe Pool Lake as a gateway, then drive into Cedar Hill, where you'll want to visit a real old-timey town square. Take the back roads toward Ovilla and marvel at the tree-canopied lanes that seem a million miles away from the heat and concrete of Big D. If you're in the mood for a nature study walk, stop in at the Dallas Nature Center on Mountain Creek Parkway or take a picnic lunch and fishing pole with you and visit little-known Lorch Park (972-291-8229), cited last year as the Best Scenic Park You've Never Heard Of.

Still the best, if not the only great place in Dallas to turn yourself into a leaping lizard. A combined total of 65 years' tattooing experience makes the staff here one of the most consistent in town, with high marks in both technical skill and artistic flair. You can spend 50 bucks getting a black star tattooed on your butt or you could spend up to $70,000 on a "full body suit." Just remember: no trade-ins or returns.

Though just a few blocks south of Interstate 67, it's called "A Quiet Place" for good reason. Wind along its foot trails, viewing the well-preserved flowers and fauna of the region, and soon you're lost in another world. This is no quick-step hiking place. Unless you're looking for a leisurely walk and literally prepared to stop and smell the flowers, don't bother. Dedicated in 1993, the preserve is open to the public, free, from 6 a.m. to sundown daily.

This beautifully restored hangout is one of the best places to buy mixed drinks, or as their ads say, "classic cocktails," in Dallas. Unlike the party-hardy scene in Deep Ellum and Lower Greenville, the Meridian Room is a great place for real camaraderie, not drunken blowouts. The Exposition Park neighborhood near Fair Park is still a fringe-y area best known for Forbidden Books and a Wiccan church (or temple?), but places like the Meridian Room and Hungree's (a nearby sandwich joint) are making the area a draw for those of us not yet into witchcraft.

For the price, this can't be beat. A mere $3 will get you into the Plano city water park, and children six and under are admitted free. This park with slides, fountain-filled train rides, dumping buckets and a zero-depth entry ramp meets all the standards set by its more expensive private cousins. An indoor pool is also available at the same location with 50-meter swimming lanes. The hours at this place vary by season, so be sure to call in advance.

We can see the screenwriter (or producer, or director) making his pitch to the studio exec: "It's a movie theater, see, where we show nothing but art-house movies. Indies, the kids call 'em. Yeah, yeah, I know. It's a...whaddya call it?...a niche audience. Perfect. Narrowcasting, can ya dig? We'll give 'em L.I.E. and Bully and lots of other movies with bad language and teen sex. And the theater will be a glistening gem, unlike anything Dallas has ever seen. Eight screening rooms, all with stadium seating. And we'll put it near a DART station, a Virgin Megastore, an Urban Outfitters and a buncha other retail and restaurant joints that only Dallasites think of as 'exotica.' Only it's not just a movie theater, see, but a real restaurant where patrons can get grilled chicken sandwiches and prosciutto-wrapped figs and cappuccinos. And in the role of chef, we'll get...oh...Lisa Kelley. You mighta seen her at Parigi. Or maybe Meryl Streep, we'll see. Look, this is a sure-fire hit, man--solid box-office, like Mel and Danny in Lethal Weapon. It's the mismatched couple: movie theater and gourmet food! They'll eat it up."

The town of Coppell doesn't exactly come to mind when thinking about the Disneyland of outdoor play spaces. But nestled within the 148 acres of Andrew Brown Community Park East is a veritable imagination plantation that can soothe the hyperactive souls of children of all ages. At Kid Kountry, they can board a pirate ship or climb up a castle wall; they swing and slide their excess energy away as Mom and Dad stay cool--or at least cooler--under shade trees. During the summer months, the aquatics center is next door, and jogging trails and a small lake add to the bucolic setting. For the security-conscious (and who isn't these days), the playground provides a high fence to separate your li'l darlin' from the outside world. Which should make the outside world a safer place.

You know how you know a place is a favorite for kids? When it's a 30-minute ride to get there, and the munchkin goes insane with glee when you mention the possibility you could go there for lunch. The Purple Cow gets just such a reaction. This restaurant, styled after a 1950s soda fountain, is a favorite for parties because the kids can eat purple ice cream and get really loud, and parents can dull their frazzled nerves with spiked milk shakes. The standard American fare is passable for adults, but the kids love it. Earplugs aren't included.

On those rare occasions when a north wind blows, we know to pack up the kid and his toy airplane collection and race to DFW Airport's observation area, where he'll see jumbo jets--747s, A340s, 767s, L-1011s and DC-10s and the many smaller varieties--practically landing on top of him, and he'll watch the results of those tiny, precarious adjustments the pilot makes just a few feet from the end of the runway as he's coming in to land. (You'll also notice that it takes forever for those ancient 727s to get off the ground.) You probably didn't even know this "Founders Park" existed, with its panoramic view of the airport's east runways and piped-in control-tower chatter. But a few of us have found it, and it's perfectly suited for an outing with a plane-obsessed child (or adult). It's almost entirely fenced in, and it has picnic tables, litter-free grass and lookout binoculars (very blurry; we suggest you bring your own). Hey, and it's all free. To get there--DFW doesn't make it obvious--take the south entrance to the airport and follow the signs to the south shuttle parking area. Go past it and keep following the road until you reach an overpass. Turn left before the overpass, and you'll end up at the park. You can watch outside or in your car. It's best to come when there's a north wind, because the planes approach from the south and land right in front of you. Other times, you get a better view of the takeoff. (At press time, Founders Park had survived the new security measures at DFW and remained open.)