Culture

The governor of New Jersey got more national pub with his Gayo-American speech, but in local terms Laura Miller's public coming-out confessional before the North Dallas Chamber in June was every bit as riveting. The feisty former journalist who ran for office on a pledge of back-to-basics--she waged red-meat political campaigns against "the boys downtown" and their "big-ticket projects"--told the Chamber her husband had called her "stupid" and she was switching over to the boys' team. Yup. Just that simple. Miller said her husband, state representative and asbestos lawyer Steve Wolens, "is a lot more mature than me." Apparently Wolens had told the little lady to ditch that populist thing, put on some big fat pearls and cozy up to the downtown dogs. So now that's her plan. Instead of the streets and gutters she promised the voters when she ran, she told the Chamber she is now focused on the dogs' main deals, like the Trinity River project and redeveloping downtown. One of the most exciting things about Miller's personality makeover is that it comes barely a third of the way through her first full term as mayor. At this rate, we'll get to see at least three more totally new mayors before her term is up.

Readers' Pick

Kidd Kraddick

The guy writes three times a week; he doesn't have Mike Royko's research staff; he's not going to be Mike Royko, OK? Besides, look what happened to Royko. He's dead. Steve Blow is alive, if not edgy. With a laid-back, easygoing, yarn-spinning style, he can also be a darned good reporter when he feels like it. And if he had done not one other good column all year, he would have earned a Best of Dallas award just for the one he did on the Muslim couple who got jeered on the Jumbotron at Cowboy Stadium. In one short piece, Blow weaved together a tapestry of themes about bigotry, football, the hopes and fears of immigrants, and the newly diverse nature of the region. Not many scribblers can do all that in an 800-word column. Blow provides Dallas with something it sorely needs--a familiar and authentic voice. And by the way, in case you never noticed, this ain't Chicago.

If you want columns about the latest b.s. fads in corporate-speak or the 118th column about how a North Texas CEO is putting his company on the right track, you read The Dallas Morning News. If you want to find out the real reason the CEO of Southwest Airlines stepped down (he'd lost face in labor negotiations because of his "meddling chairman," Herb Kelleher) or if you want to know one of the unspoken reasons Arlington will overpay for the dubious promise of development around a new Cowboys stadium (because "among the nine biggest cities in the metroplex, Arlington had the largest increase in poverty in the 1990s"--and it has no other way to revitalize itself), then you read biz columnist Mitch Schnurman in the Star-T. Schnurman is a rarity--a smart, tough reporter who understands business and can explain how boardroom decisions affect a city and its citizens. You'd say that it would be great if he were a city columnist, but he already offers more insight into the way Fort Worth works than any columnist at the DMN has ever done with Big D.

Readers' Pick

Steve Blow

The Dallas Morning News

As the promise of the Morning News' "revolution" fades, it becomes more and more apparent that you can't change a corporate culture unless you (warning: bizspeak coming) hire peak performers and empower them. When the paper hired Keven Ann Willey to be its editorial page editor, it did just that. The editorials under Willey continue to be sharp and sensible. Even when we disagree with their conclusion, at least we know what the conclusion is--a marked improvement from the past 85 years or so. She has a vibrant, ideologically diverse staff that she allows to take the page in many different directions. It means that for the first time perhaps ever, you can open the editorial and op-ed pages of the DMN and be surprised.

Anybody really care what D magazine's writers think about Jessica Simpson, Alexa Conomos, Fireside Pies or other key issues of the day? Well, FrontBurner--a blog service of the publication's Web site--is the place to go if you do, indeed, care that much. On the other hand, if you prefer to catch up on inside jokes and office politics, they sometimes discuss cubicle size and trade sophomoric insults. Occasionally, they actually break some worthy news item, but that just detracts from their real purpose. The site apparently exists to allow the group (Adam McGill, Tim Rogers, Wick Allison, et. al.) to critique news coverage by other publications, particularly The Dallas Morning News. D's staff regularly calls out other writers in an online version of a Wild West challenge between two gunslingers. Downsides: Many people rightly or wrongly consider D a bastion of boosterism itself. Pluses: FrontBurner is great fun, sparked by occasional cattiness and a useful tidbit or two.

Situated just past the intersection of the Dallas North Tollway and Highway 121, Frisco Square is a 4 million-square-foot community built around the idea that the past is the future, that Norman Rockwell was right, that people want to walk to work (and to eat, and to shop), that real towns are built around plush parks and pedestrian-friendly streets. The people who came up with this idea (developer Cole McDowell and his company, Five Star Development; city planning director John Lettelleir; City Manager George Purefoy; architect David M. Schwarz; and former Frisco Mayor Kathy Seei) just might be right about all of that. Except there's not much there right now, other than townhomes, Frisco's new senior center and a few other buildings. But check back in five years. Then you can see how they did. Or didn't.

Book clubs are powerful tools. For example, any tome Oprah Winfrey features on hers instantly becomes a best seller. Same goes (to a lesser extent) for the books featured on other chat-show book clubs. Larry James and Central Dallas Ministries have the same goal, except for one important wrinkle. They don't want people who come to their Urban Engagement Book Club to buy the books. They want them to buy the ideas contained inside, thoughts about charity and its effects, politics and its soul, creativity and its importance. Every book leads to a lively debate and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, problems are about to be solved. You can see CDM is building up to something and, with the Urban Engagement Book Club, building a like-minded army to help them get there. Wish them well.

It's still early, but give Jack Matthews (the developer who brought the South Side on Lamar complex to life and owns much of the neighboring property) and the others brave enough to join him time. South Side itself is already home to the best artists-in-residence program in the area (and one of the best, period), as well as tenants such as Erykah Badu and The D.O.C. And sooner rather than later, Raphael Parry's new theater company, Project X, will have a home in the basement in the former confines of the building's boiler room. But it doesn't begin and end there. Gilley's opened a Dallas location in one of Matthews' buildings on the street, and David Card moved his Lower Greenville fixture, Poor David's Pub, to the area this summer. Plus, there's the up-and-coming, down-and-dirty dive Lee Harvey's to keep the locals well-lubricated on Pabst Blue Ribbon. Best part is, Matthews donated $1 million worth of real estate to the city so it could build the Dallas Police Department's headquarters directly across from South Side. So you don't need to worry about any Milk-Eyed Bandits going bump in the night.

As Chris Cree says, you don't have to know "antidisestablishmentarianism" to play Scrabble. Just plenty of two- to eight-letter words. Cree speaks from experience, because his knowledge of those words has made the local businessman the highest-ranked Scrabble player in Texas. He finished fourth at this year's National Scrabble Championship in New Orleans, losing a heartbreaking game in Round 30 to eventual champion Trey Wright. But it's still been a good year for Cree. A few months ago, he set an unofficial world record for most points scored on a single turn, when he played "blowzier" through two triple-word squares for 329 points, more than even many advanced players score in an entire game. Too bad it didn't happen in New Orleans.

You can get in free at any Dallas Mavericks game. Yes, you. It's simple. Here's the deal: Paint your face. Your body, too, if you feel up to it. Show up two hours before tip-off at the American Airlines Center. Find something called the "Mavs Urban Excursion." Don't worry, it shouldn't be hard to miss, since there will be more than a few people who look just like you. When prompted, scream and cheer and show just how much of a fan you are, even if you're the quiet type who'd rather just watch the game in peace. It's free, remember, so don't be shy. If you're lucky, and not too many had the same idea, the Mavs Street Team will hook you up with a ticket. And it's pretty close to the court, if you're still on the fence about the whole face-painting, whooping-it-up thing. By the time the final buzzer sounds, you'll be ready to do it all again next game.

Besides coming up with an undeniably sweet name, Art Prostitute founders Brian Gibb and Mark Searcy have come up with undeniably sweet things to go along with it. Like Art Prostitute, the most stylish art and design magazine around, geared toward building a new generation of art collectors. (It's a touch pricey at $20 but worth every cent because of the art prints--from Shepard Fairey, among others--that come with each issue.) There's also Art Prostitute, the duo's gallery that could one day be the epicenter of the North Texas arts scene the way the sainted Good/Bad Art Collective used to be, and it's already bringing in artists from all over, the kind of people you need to know about. Not to mention www.artprostitute.com, their Web site that acts as a tip sheet for everything that's worth checking out, be it music, art or whatever.

You might not have heard of Denton group Midlake, but Jason Lee has. Then again, you might not have heard of Jason Lee either, but that's a topic for another time. The actor-skater (you may remember him from such films as Chasing Amy, Mumford, Vanilla Sky and, yes, Almost Famous) swears it's one of the only bands he listens to. If you don't believe him, think of it this way: He came to town this summer on his own dime and spent a week shooting a video for their song "Balloon Maker." Before that, in May he hosted a Midlake show in London as part of an art opening sponsored by his skateboard company Stereo. So, if you were wondering, his money is, in fact, where his mouth is.

This is a tough one, because WFAA-Channel 8 still has Byron Harris and Brett Shipp, two of the consistently best investigative reporters in the market. But Channel 11's news team just seems to work harder and dig deeper day in and day out. Politicos and public relations types keep a close eye on Sarah Dodd's City Hall coverage to know what's up and what's coming. Steve Pickett provides smart, sharp coverage of the city's Byzantine public school system. Robert Riggs is a top investigative reporter. J.D. Miles is one of the city's most versatile general assignment reporters. Newcomer Jack Fink has hit homers on the police and terrorism beats. They've taken on top-flight journalists as their behind-the-scenes producers. And Tracy Rowlett, co-anchor and managing editor, always pushes his staff for that extra edge that makes them, we think, the best news show in town.

Readers' Pick

WFAA-Channel 8

Think pageant and immediately the mind calls up Miss America-like shows with stupid and obvious questions answered by vapid, hair-sprayed women in sparkly gowns. It's different at Buddies II. (Somehow we suspect Adam West won't be hosting the next Ms. Femme/Ms. Butch Buddies pageant at the homey lesbian bar.) Sure, there's a formal dress competition, and there are questions for contestants to answer, but the mood is completely laid-back, fun and supportive. We don't anticipate anyone sabotaging the talent portion of the show, and the congrats given when winners are announced are wholehearted. This fun, girly/not-so-girly version of a pageant is truly entertaining, and the crowd feels like family.

From the warped mind of local photographer Bobby Jack Pack Jr. comes one sick, twisted and absolutely hysterical sketch comedy show. The show, started more than a decade ago, stars a rotating cast and is filmed, well, whenever the hell they feel like it. Same goes for the airing, too, as the BJPSCS randomly shows on public access television or at theaters like the Magnolia, which has aired it in conjunction with other local indie-film projects. Sketches involve anything from a grown man in a green sequined leotard pumping gas on Live Oak Street while on his way to a "dance audition" to a woman finding a severed head in her credenza and simply tossing it out the front door to create a grisly traffic obstacle. It's like Dallas' own Mr. Show. Thankfully, DVDs are available on the Web site since the show's airings are often anyone's guess.

Oh, you could hand over a collection of old sculptures to the city. The newspapers would lavish praise on you, and the 500 or so people in Texas who actually appreciate bits of cast-off construction material welded into odd shapes would consider you some sort of god. Working for broader goals--the eradication of AIDS, an end to poverty, that sort of thing--rarely nets personal glory. Rich folks typically fight these problems from a safe distance, with a checkbook. No matter how much they donate, however, few can match the efforts of radio personality Action Jaxon. He organized the city's largest AIDS testing drive, participated in 7 UP's Serving Up a Cure dinner three years in a row, hosted the AIDS Arms Life Walk four years in a row, serves as a board member for the AIDS Services of Dallas, rode in eight fund-raising bike rides and so on. In addition, he volunteers at various homeless shelters and spends one week a year living in a shelter as a way to raise awareness. Then there's his work with the Carter BloodCare Blood Drive, Boxing for Life, reading programs...the more people George W. forces into poverty, the harder this guy battles back.

It depends on who tells the story. Either Dallas Cowboys receiver Drew Pearson rudely shoved Nate Wright to the ground as Roger Staubach's desperation heave descended on that fateful day, one game before the Super Bowl, in 1975, or the hapless Viking simply fell victim to incidental contact. When Minnesota fans approach Pearson for an autograph, however, he lets them know precisely where he stands on the issue, signing the ball, paper or family heirloom thusly: "I did not push Nate Wright, he pushed me. Get over it. Hail Mary, 12/28/75."

We've started bragging that we used to be in the local band [DARYL]. With all the lineup changes in the last 15 months, no one would be the wiser, perhaps not even the actual members of [DARYL]. It was hard to keep track--we tried, but it was at a bar, on a napkin. You know how these things go. The starting lineup was Dylan Silvers on guitar and vocals, Jeff Parker on bass and vocals, Michael Lamm on drums and Dave Wilson on guitar, keyboards and backup vocals. Parker left; Silvers switched to bass. Justin Wood was added on guitar, along with Angie Comley on keyboards and vocals. Wilson left. Dave Christensen took over on bass, and Silvers went back to guitar. Christensen moved to guitar when Wood left, and Comley's replacements were dual keyboardists/vocalists Justen Andrews and Beau Wagener. At some point, former keyboardist Chad Ferman filled in, a saxophonist named David Hayes was added, and, we think, Santana did a riff or two (that guy plays with everyone). What we do know is that [DARYL] has kept the same lineup for a dozen shows now and sounds better than it has in more than a year. Gentlemen, keep your seats.

The D-FW theater scene needs a lesson on supply and demand. There is too much of what we don't want. Seriously, could anyone else stage Annie or Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat this year? Was there a clearance sale at the costume warehouse? And then there's the matter of too little of what we do want, mainly Our Endeavors Theater Collective, whose schedule includes only Around the World With Blackbrows the Pirate, an original play to tour elementary schools this semester, and another play that has yet to be determined. Both will surely be worth trespassing at DISD or driving to Tyler for, though we won't object to a legal visitation at a theater near downtown. The 7-year-old, dozen-member ensemble founded by couple Scott Osborne and Patti Kirkpatrick is innovative, mesmerizing, compelling, fantastical and about a million other gushy adjectives we could string together, whether they're performing a rare and heady work by Stanislaw Ignacy Witkiewicz or pulling out the fishnets and garters for Extreme Acts, a burlesque, sideshow, comedy, musical, dance revue.

We can't expect you to drive 30-something miles south to Waxahachie to look at art when you won't even drive five blocks to go to a Dallas gallery. But, for a few hours on a weekend afternoon and a quarter-tank of gas, Waxahachie's Webb Gallery is an inexpensive road trip. And the art's so fun, we swear it won't even feel like you're getting cultured. Bruce and Julie Webb founded their gallery about 17 years ago out of their love for self-taught art, primitive arts and crafts and fraternal lodge pieces. And the stories behind the works are just as intriguing as the drawings, paintings and sculptures in the collection. These are artists whose lives revolved around minimum-wage jobs and families and were affected by mental and physical disabilities. They didn't dream of making it in New York or getting their first solo exhibits. They made art because they were driven to create and it made them happy. It'll make you happy, too, if you can find the time.

The world's divided into camps: Kerry vs. Bush, Roth vs. Hagar, Magnolia vs. Angelika. While the Angelika in Mockingbird Station has its up sides--more theaters, a restaurant in the lobby--the Magnolia still gets the nod as Dallas' best theater, and not just because you can smoke in the bar, though that doesn't hurt. The place is just a little cozier and more audience-friendly than the art-house megaplex up Central Expressway: You can buy DVDs in the lobby, get yourself a box of Aussie cookies Tim Tams before the movie and then go eat at Ferré or Paris Vendome or Taco Diner afterward, all eateries that far outshine the one in the Angelika's downstairs. And the Magnolia is run by film geeks, from boss man Tearlach Hutcheson (a film prof when he's not doing the books for Landmark these days) to managers to ticket-takers, all of whom are happy to argue the history of cinema with you before a screening of Fahrenheit 9/11 or Garden State or some other top-of-the-line indie showing at the theater. Parking sucks, though.

Readers' Pick

The Magnolia

From The Range's Web site: "The Country Music Industry had alienated so many fans by the 'Great Garth Cloning Experiment of the '90s' that The Range seemed like a breath of fresh air. KHYI brought many listeners back to Country Radio." Couldn't have said it better--actually, we could have, but we can't argue with the point that country radio in this town sucks. In fact, all radio in this town sucks--save, oh, that station broadcasting jazz and static from the University of North Texas--and not just because most of it sounds like 1975. (Seriously, imagine listening to radio in the 1970s and finding only stuff from the 1940s; that's the state of our dial today, with its penchant for everything oldie and moldy.) The 7-year-old Range, with its homegrown jocks (including 41-year vet Allen Peck Sr.) broadcasting 50,000 watts from our own back yard, sounds like KNON without the amateurishness and Saturday-night KERA without the pledge-begging. The playlist is superb--from Townes Van Zandt to Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash to Loretta Lynn, Steve Earle to Dwight Yoakam--and we'll even forgive the occasional Pat Green, because at least he wasn't born and bred in a Clear Channel basement lab. There's even gospel on Sunday morning. Jesus, that's awesome.

Readers' Pick

KERA-FM (90.1)

Humidity curls our hair and dots our brow with sweat. And there are only a few reasons worth enduring it: tiny howler monkeys with tiny hands and tiny ears; sleek, whiskered river otters; three-toed sloths and stoney, ancient-looking manatees. These and hundreds of other creatures inhabit the Orinoco--Secrets of the River rain forest exhibit at the Dallas World Aquarium, which re-creates a section of Venezuela's Orinoco River basin. There's more to this aquarium than fish, which, in our opinion, are nothing in comparison with the seven-level rain forest. Sorry, white-spotted bamboo shark and stingray. There are also penguins, but they're South African penguins, so look for them outside...where it's almost as humid and muggy.

You'd expect a bar or music club to fill this slot, so what's the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon game doing here? Our winner already earns techie points with more options and faster loads than Friendster, but MySpace's music section stands out by making local music simple to wade through. Type in a Dallas ZIP code, and more than 300 Dallas-area bands pop up. Each band's page features biographies, gig information and, most important, immediate music playback. No MP3s to fiddle with--within one mouse click, you'll know whether or not a random band like, say, savanteous Q malmsteen is worth your time. What's more, once you find a likable band, check its "social network" for similar acts, and with local faves like Baboon, [DARYL] and The Deathray Davies calling MySpace home, that shouldn't take long at all. Sure, you'll still have to hit bars and clubs for good live local music, but with MySpace leveling the musical playing field, deciding whom to see becomes a lot easier.

Every other Sunday evening (or so), a group of musicians gathers at the Barley House. As night bleeds into morning, they trade off the spotlight for short acoustic sets--nothing fancy, just a guy and a guitar and a stool, perhaps, the kind of earnest-looking scene that sends most beer-drinkers clamoring for the check. Except these are some of the best musicians in Dallas--members of Sorta and Deadman and The Shimmers--and though they're surely happy to see a large crowd gather, they're really playing for each other, trying to impress and entertain and surprise the other musicians. The set list continues to change, too, with special guests and tweaked lineups each week, meaning two shows are never the same. It's a wonderfully relaxing, feel-good way to end a week. Pull up a stool, order a beer and eavesdrop on some of the finest musical conversations around.

Textile artist Sue Benner works in cloth, thread and dyes, but there the resemblance of her creations to the quilts your grandmother made ends. Using small pieces of fabric to create dynamic abstract wall hangings, Benner says her current pieces are about relationships, "color-to-color, shape-to-shape, pattern-to-pattern." Educated in molecular biology and trained as a medical illustrator, Benner says her work relies on the underlying structure and organizing principles found in nature. The effect is always of joyous, riotous color. Shown internationally, Benner's pieces are in many private and corporate collections and are available in Dallas through private dealer Marie Park.

Going to the museum is a lot like going to church: It occurs during the daylight hours (usually Sunday), it's good for you (read: boring), there's an endless supply of old people around, and whatever you do, you can't make a peep. That's why the DMA's Late Nights series is such a revelation. Running once a month on Fridays from 6 p.m. to midnight, the series opens up those echoing, hallowed halls to bands, DJs, films, wine tastings, twilight gallery tours and more. It's kind of like the cultural version of a church lock-in. But this isn't mere "edutainment"; this place actually rocks. Participants have included such buzzworthy acts as I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness, DJ Spooky and Cat Power. Museums should be a place to celebrate excellence in art and culture and music, not just a place to keep both hands carefully at your side. So raise your voices, and your wine glasses.

Huge art mainstays like the DMA and the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth do well to veil the money-hungry concrete jungle that is our fair town, but it's the beauty of smaller collections that makes us say, "Are we really in Dallas?" Case in point: the Trammell and Margaret Crow Collection of Asian Art, whose focus on ancient works of the largest continent actually rivals a similar collection at the Louvre. Yeah, we said it. The jade pieces here are mind-blowingly intricate, as are the dozens of royal decorations scattered through the building. Keep your eyes peeled, as one of Dallas' most amazing pieces is tucked into the very far corner of the collection. Walk through the origami swan hallway, and once you enter the shrine room, turn around and you'll see a door that looks off-limits to the general public. In there, you'll find a single piece of wood that has been carved into dozens of individual warriors, horses and elephants, which stand on top of each other to form a near-solid mass. You may think you're hallucinating when you see it, but even drugs aren't this good.

For about two months solid, it seemed, the Granada Theater showed nothing but old episodes of Absolutely Fabulous and maybe a football game. The beautiful space, once a movie house and then a live music venue, had tumbled to the point of hosting a few concerts a month and otherwise lying fallow. That changed when CD World owner Mike Schoder bought the place earlier this year and refashioned it as a comfortable, considerate music club for adults, the kind who can't always stay out till 2 a.m. to see their favorite band. The place is smoke-free, serves food and hosts the kind of shows that grown-ups want to see: Wilco, Jack Ingram, Malford Milligan. Will it fly? We certainly hope so. Schoder has proven himself a passionate musical advocate, and the success of CD World indicates a market savvy. Either way, we applaud him for taking the risk.

Talk about stand and deliver. For two years in a row (2002 and 2003), SEM, one of DISD's court-mandated magnet high schools, had more minority students pass the advanced placement calculus exam than any other school in the nation. It's even more remarkable considering how small the student body is. With only 400 students, 113 passed the test in 2003; of those, 60 were Hispanic or African-American. On the AP chemistry exam, minority students at SEM tied for first place in the state; of the 23 SEM students who passed, 10 were minorities. "It always starts with the teacher," says Gregg Fleisher, president of the nonprofit AP Strategies, which works with school districts and businesses to manage AP programs. "And SEM Principal Richard White has recruited some of the best calculus teachers in the state." The program is also supported by the Texas Instruments Foundation and the Advanced Academic Services department in DISD, which provides lead teachers, curriculum and other materials. We know the program works. Now, why can't it work everywhere?

A good director will inspire actors to give their best performances and let the playwrights' words shine without the directing getting in the way. René Moreno, who directed eight productions in Dallas and Fort Worth theaters this year, is one reason so many good actors are staying in the area instead of migrating toward the coasts. They're eager to collaborate with this actor-centric artist who says he just tries to elicit "good, honest work" from his casts. Since his first directing gig at Kitchen Dog Theater in 1996, Moreno, 45, has been in demand here and at Milwaukee Rep (where he'll stage Cabaret soon). Dallas audiences have applauded his work recently for the spitfire bio-musical La Lupe for Martice Enterprises, Edward Albee's cryptic Marriage Play at WingSpan, Arthur Miller's gut-wrenching All My Sons at Classical Acting Company, God's Man in Texas at Fort Worth's Circle Theatre and The Drawer Boy at Plano Rep. Moreno's next job: directing A.R. Gurney's Far East at Contemporary Theatre of Dallas in February.

At a feel-good, PR-style luncheon where many of the guests are whispering on their cell phones, Dallas City Councilman Gary Griffith is not only listening intently to the speaker but actually making tiny little notes with a ball point pen on a small leather-backed notepad that he keeps pulling out and then redepositing in his breast pocket. It's typical of the quiet, behind-the-scenes intensity and thoughtfulness this freshman member of the council brings to the mission. Often unheralded, Griffith has helped the council pluck its way through several political spiderwebs already, including supplemental pay for injured cops, hiring a new police chief and countless neighborhood battles over streets and parks. So far he's been modest, cautious, smart and effective. Of course, he hasn't been sipping the Marilla Kool-Aid all that long. Let's try to get some more good out of him before they bring the refills.

Readers' Pick

John Loza

It happens at almost every play for which Randel Wright designs the set. The lights come up onstage, the audience gets its first look at his spectacular handiwork and everyone applauds. For A Girl's Guide to Chaos at Contemporary Theatre of Dallas, Wright filled the acting space with a ceiling-high tribute to the line drawings of the late pop artist Keith Haring, including Haring's signature crawling babies and barking dogs. For Lone Star/Laundry and Bourbon, also at CTD, Wright created an authentically shabby back porch and yard (complete with clothesline), then magically transformed it during intermission into a run-down West Texas honky-tonk lit by a gigantic rising full moon. The effect brought a satisfied "aaaaah" from the crowd. He's the only set designer successful at making the cave-like Bath House Cultural Center into an elegant acting space. For WingSpan's production of Edward Albee's Marriage Play, Wright incorporated the odd architectural elements of that venue into his rendering of a sprawling penthouse apartment. This designer definitely has a fine career building.

Now in its third season of plays and musicals at the Trinity River Arts Center, the Uptown Players upped the ante this year with more ambitious work and higher-quality productions. This company, founded by co-producers Jeff Rane and Craig Lynch, performs gay-themed shows for a dedicated audience composed mostly of young gay theatergoers (everyone's welcome, of course). To their small stage they attract the best local talent--Denise Lee, Coy Covington, Nye Cooper, Regan Adair, Donald Fowler, BJ Cleveland--to casts of musicals such as Kiss of the Spider Woman and The Life and the cross-dressing comedies of Charles Busch (this year's Red Scare on Sunset was a winner). At least once a season they stage a sprawling, large-cast drama. The recent production of Terrence McNally's Love! Valour! Compassion!, featuring more nudity than Dallas stages have seen in many a moon, played to sell-out crowds. Finishing out the current season is The Wild Party (through October 24). Next year's slate includes A Man of No Importance, Mambo Italiano, Southern Baptist Sissies and The Who's Tommy. Snaps all around!

Some people like to visit Mark Cuban's blog for its train-wreck aspects. You know, how he'll promote his show The Benefactor and say how great it is just before it airs to an indifferent public. We like it, weirdly enough, for all the other posts. Like the one about his take on politics and its effects on the business environment. (He took a shot at Senator Orrin Hatch and never mentioned that he once contributed money to Hatch's campaign, but it didn't affect his point, so whatever.) Or the one about how much he loves his new Sidekick II gadget. (Want one!) And especially the one about the future of HDTV, DVDs and the hard drive. It's in posts like these that Cuban shows he deserves at least a bit of the "business genius" label that is constantly attached to him. True, we long for the post where Cuban shows a smidge of humility, but in the meantime we'll settle for the insight and geekdom he offers.

Readers' Pick

www.texasgigs.com

For years we've watched Lulu Ward dazzle Dallas theater audiences by disappearing so convincingly into characters that she's almost unrecognizable. Like the twin divas (one gorgeous, one homely) in Pegasus Theatre's black-and-white comedy Cross Stage Right: Die! Or the three parts she played in Cloud Nine at the Bath House. She was Medea in Orgasmo Adulto Escapes From the Zoo. A slatternly crack whore in The Abandoned Reservoir. A jealous mistress raging in the afterlife in Ground Zero's 10:10. And she took on a dozen characters, including a 6-year-old, a hippie teen and an elderly Irish maid, in Contemporary Theatre's The Dining Room. Getting good at the acting thing meant giving it up for a few years, says Ward, 45. "I left, gained some weight, got a little older, and it made a difference. I felt like I owned my own talent after that. It was healthy for me," she says. A self-described former "pageant queen," Ward went through college on a Junior Miss scholarship. In the works now: a one-woman show called Texanese Confessions, based on stories about her parents. Mom Yoko is Japanese. Ward's late father was a "redneck steel guitar player who hung out with Willie Nelson." Ward has been married for five years to musician Michael Beall and offstage is an ardent animal rescuer who tends to four dogs and six cats. Little Lulu, we love you-lu.

He's drop-dead handsome, hugely talented and bald as an egg. Halim Jabbour, 30, also is one of Dallas' most in-demand leading men, cast in a variety of tasty roles at theaters large and small over the past year. For Ground Zero Theater Company, he was a cheating groom in the premiere of Vicki Cheatwood's smoldering drama 10:10. He played a New Yorker romancing a Georgia doll in Contemporary Theatre's nostalgic The Last Night of Ballyhoo. At Richardson Theatre Centre, he was the terrifying killer in Wait Until Dark. He never let up on intensity playing two roles (with and without toupee) in Boaz Unlocked's Three Days of Rain, even before an audience of three. "And that included my sister," he recalls. Born in Lebanon, raised in Saudi Arabia (his dad was a civil engineer there), Jabbour started pre-med at Baylor before transferring to UT-Austin, where he earned a radio-TV-film degree. After a stint at Circle in the Square theater in Manhattan and a year of study in Los Angeles, he moved to Dallas in 2002 and has worked steadily onstage ever since (by day he's production coordinator for Barney the Dinosaur). Dream role: one of the brothers in Sam Shepard's True West. Catch Jabbour in a new Texas Lottery commercial or onstage as Friar Laurence in Classical Acting Company's Romeo and Juliet.

The LCC has had operating fits and starts during its first year, but the Ricardo Legorreta-designed building has added warmth and beauty to a cold corner between downtown and East Dallas. The $10 million structure makes the colors purple and orange seem understated, even though the center's grandeur is in stark contrast with its across-the-street neighbors, a still-underdeveloped string of parking lots and sad-state buildings.

John Pomara is a painter who thrives on the death of painting. He understands well that painting's so-called death has become its very condition, and he has managed to infuse the splendors of that death with something radically new. His work hinges on the idea and fact of mediation--the mediation of pixels and paint through the repeated modeling of computer-generated images, and the physical movement of the pull of paint. When looking at the surfaces of his perfectly flat, shiny and brightly colored paintings, one would never know that they were so complicated. But it is this subtle play of contradiction--bringing to mind the hi-lo high jinks of Lichtenstein and Warhol--that makes his paintings so successful. The "hi" (as in high art) part of his works is obvious. He makes paintings that feel good all over and, most important, are good on the eye. The "lo" part is, while more suggested, integral to his work. Pomara plays on the lowbrow with his choice of base materials--highly pixelated advertisements and photographic imagery, industrial paint and aluminum panels. Pomara revels in the death of painting because he is the master of resuscitation.

Angstrom Gallery is both hip and intellectual, punk and smart. Everything about it--the artwork, the artists, the people who run it, the location--is right on. In short, Angstrom makes Dallas a better city. David Quadrini, the gallery's impresario and catalyst, has shown a penchant for verisimilitude of late, showing objects that appear to be what they are not. Muscling forth conceptually with ideas on appearance and the commodity fetish, such work--Daniel Gordon's photographs, Kaz Oshiro's paintings and Kevin Landers' sculpture--cuts to the core of what it means to be American. It does so without falling into the ugly traps of patriotism and provincialism. Perhaps even more exciting, though, is the gallery's acquisition of new space a few storefronts over, where there was recently an unannounced and unofficial (and so cool and so punk) showing of a sound-activated video by Jeff Shore. But Angstrom is not just concerned with being hip, hep and with it. It's a space truly invested in art as a thing and an idea. The openings are relaxed and fun. And above all else, the people are nice.

The former Stephen J. Hay School on Herschel Avenue stands proud again, refurbished and alive with uniformed seventh- and eighth-grade girls and their teachers. This first single-sex school in DISD was made possible by the willingness of the district to try something new, the bond issue voted by the citizenry in 2002 and the work and generosity of philanthropists Lee and Sally Posey. The Poseys led the efforts to create the school and established a foundation to support it, bringing in as executive director Liza Lee, former Hockaday headmistress and a national leader in all-girls education. Many of the finest private schools have always been single sex, and the absence of distractions of a coed school is believed to be particularly beneficial for girls. Each year, Rangel will add another grade until it is a combination middle school and high school. That's when the foundation's real benefits will kick in. The Poseys, who have privately sent more than 90 economically disadvantaged girls to college, have pledged that every Rangel graduate who is accepted to college "will have the financial support she needs."

Neither rant nor rave about the Nasher Sculpture Center. It is great. It is great with a capital G. We love it. Our readers love it. But, for as long as it lasts, the great shiny, chrome dinosaurs, crafted from recycled car parts and installed bumper-to-bumper, you might say, on the grounds of the Dallas Museum of Natural History, are just so majestic, monumental and silly. And don't you agree that this outdoor art, created by sculptor Jack Kearney, just screams "Dallas!" and our cultural schizophrenia more than the subtle, breathtaking masterpieces at the Nasher? Kearney created life-size replicas of a 20-foot tyrannosaurus rex, as well as a triceratops and stegosaurus that are more than 32 feet long each. The collection, on loan since 1998, weighs 7 tons and took Kearney three years to finish. P.S. to whomever we're borrowing these from: Please don't take our Chromosaurs away.

Readers' Pick

Nasher Sculpture Center

2001 Flora St.

214-242-5100

Yeah, yeah--Tracy Rowlett has more gravitas, whatever that means, but we're sticking with this selection, and not just because Hawkins is one of the few local TV news guys who doesn't think the Dallas Observer's one step below toilet reading. We like Hawkins because he's a reporter and anchorman and good at both gigs; he's even something of a poet, as acknowledged in our Full Frontal section a few months back when Hawkins referred to metered parking spaces as "asphalt rent," the first and last time we can recall a local talking TV head even attempting something close to...whatyacallit...writing. He's never too smug or overly sincere, makes mindless between-anchor chitchat seem kinda witty and doesn't condescend to the audience when breaking news good, bad or pointless. If he can stick it out at Channel 8, where the good folks are abandoning ship like it's the Titanic without even a band, Hawkins has the goods to be a major player for a good long while. He might even get him some gravitas, which Scott Samms probably thinks is a dirty word.

Readers' Pick

Gloria Campos

WFAA-Channel 8

Perhaps it's not fair to call Midlake's Bamnan and Slivercork the best local album of the year. Sure, it's great, but the word "local" might be considered a stretch. First off, the album hasn't yet seen an official launch in the United States, though that hasn't stopped local record shops from importing the album from Britain's Bella Union label in droves. To further complicate things, Midlake hardly sounds like it comes from America, much less Denton--there's really no other group making music like this in the region, as jazzy drumbeats, swirling keyboards and undernourished guitars unite in Pink Flaming Grandaddy Air Floyd Lips fashion. And, honestly, how many Dallas bands have mastered their albums at Abbey Road Studios? Therefore, we understand if a few people scoff at the "local" tag given to Bamnan, but in the end, we're damn proud to claim any local ties to an album this impressive.

Readers' Pick

[DARYL] Ohio

Containing a wealth of do-it-yourself legal information, the Dallas County Law Library is free for all Dallas County residents. Librarian David Wilkinson estimates that of the 250 people who use the library each day, only about half are attorneys. What are all of these non-lawyers doing in a law library? Taking care of routine legal matters without the expense of hiring a lawyer, says librarian Gerald Bynum. Such cases could range from name changes to uncontested divorces and simple wills. Prominent on the library information sheets listing available services is this disclaimer: "It is unlawful for library employees to interpret legal materials or to advise people how the law might apply to their situation." Another available giveaway, sponsored by the Dallas Bar Association, lists 28 legal clinics and counseling services that can provide this kind of information at no or low cost.

As digital photography gets cheaper and easier to use, Kodak moment by Kodak moment, we fear film will become obsolete. And for most people that's probably true. But for the few, the proud, those who practiced prying open film canisters and rolling film around developing reels in the dark, those whose favorite shirts bear developer and fixer splash stains across the tummy, film will never die, even if we have to hold protests with SLRs, Holgas, Brownies and Dianas in hand. Photographs Do Not Bend Gallery knows a picture is worth a thousand words, and for almost a decade owners Burt and Missy Finger have been feeding them to us, exhibit by exhibit, black and white, color, daguerreotype, digitally altered, historic, up-and-coming, teacher, student. And they've never disappointed. We can't name a gallery more consistent in its quality of shows. Plus we know they'll be on our side when the revolution comes.

When it comes to permanently scarring our body with needles and ink, we require three things: cleanliness, comfort and chemistry. We need to know the equipment is sanitary. We need people who ease our anxiety. And we need to know that the artist will work with us to make us happy. And that's why we keep going back to Pair O' Dice (and so do our friends). Richard Stell's been running this Deep Ellum institution for 11 years, enlisting the help of partner/artist Deb Brody and a succession of "kids" who hone their craft under his steady and heavy hand. Your mama may have said never trust a man with tattoos, but she was wrong.

Readers' Pick

Tigger's Tattoos

2602 Main St.

214-655-2639

We live in a world of modern convenience where cars have TVs and DVD players in them and even a lowly cigarette lighter can occasionally be outfitted to double as a bottle opener. The same concept of convenience applies to the free Sunday-afternoon no-limit Texas hold 'em tourneys at The Lodge, which, if you didn't know, is one of the area's finer gentlemen's clubs. (Or strip bar. Whatever. We're cool either way.) Where else can you gamble, drink, smoke and ogle nekkid ladies at the same time? Oh, yeah. Vegas. But that's, like, far away and stuff. Besides, we're fairly sure you can't do all of that at the same time, even there. If you're feeling guilty about this, just hit church in the morning.

When you're in a band with, like, 24 other people, you're not going to get rich anytime soon. Probably not ever. You can, however, be famous--sort of--if that band happens to be The Polyphonic Spree. You'll tour with David Bowie, travel around the world for free, see your face in magazines and on TV, hear your voice or flute or French horn or whatever on the radio, maybe even be detained by the FBI from time to time. And as soon as you take off your choir robe, not a single person will know who you are. It's the best of both worlds, getting all the cool stuff with none of the hassle. Only downside: Anyone under the age of 40 who owns a white choir robe and can sway in a rhythmic fashion can pretend to be you. But that's pretty cool, too, right?

This chunk of concrete and steel on Skillman Street near Northwest Highway was a Don Carter's All Star Lanes, with peewee leagues where kids would win tiny trophies and learn the thrill of victory and the agony of an ill-timed gutter ball. Now--nearly $10 million and two and a half years of construction later--you'd barely recognize it. Renamed the Rosewood Center for Family Arts, it's the home of the Dallas Children's Theater, where kids take classes on being tiny Laurence Oliviers and learn the thrill of professionally produced drama starring adult actors, some of whom also teach at the facility, which houses two theaters (one seats 400; the other, 140), classrooms, DCT's offices, a scene shop, a prop studio and a costume warehouse. The fund raising has been mostly grassroots, donated by fans of children's theater--both individual and professional--and the renovations continue as money comes available. Gone are the Oscar Mayer hot dogs. It's time for some Oscar-aspiring performances.

While all the other talk jocks seem to be collapsing into a single personality and voice, Mark Davis gets more distinctive. First of all, he actually knows some stuff and appears to have a life, something beyond skimming the front page and then trying to channel Rush Limbaugh. Some of his tangents are arcane, like his passionate interest in the sport of curling, but at least you know he gets out of the sound booth once in a while. His callers are often an intriguing lot, like the woman who, while calling, was being attacked by a basset hound, a toy poodle and a dachshund/Chihuahua mix but wanted to keep talking to Davis anyway. That's animal magnetism! Generally speaking, Mark Davis provides a uniquely engaging perspective on the city's everyday life.

Readers' Pick

Russ Martin Show

Live 105.3

Overheard at Best Buy last year: "I'm into all kinds of music. I listen to Nelly and Limp Bizkit." Right, buddy. Now, granted, everyone winds up claiming musical impartiality at some point in his life, but there's no way a person can like every single genre in the world. Do your tastes honestly jump from Tejano to punk rock, from mainstream rap to lo-fi folk, from electroclash to country? If so, you must be one of the five fortunate souls in Dallas who can actually hear KTCU 88.7's The Good Show on Sunday nights. Tom Urquhart's wholeheartedly anti-commercial blast of musical variety will test both your claims of musical appreciation and your radio's antenna, but if you can pick up an effin' signal without driving west on Interstate 30, you're in for a sonic range unavailable on any other frequency in town. Watch out for the DJ banter, though, because when Tom, Chris and Tony aren't interviewing local musicians, they're wasting precious minutes on debates as odd as, say, the superiority of Nelly over Limp Bizkit.

Here's yet another reason to feel guilty about not pledging, or not paying your pledge, to public radio. Glenn Mitchell's noon-to-2 p.m. show on Dallas' public radio station, KERA-FM, is not only wildly entertaining, dastardly informative and harpooningly to the point, it's the local intelligentsia's preferred manner of intercourse. It's conveniently scheduled as well, while we're mad-dashing around town at lunchtime trying to find any parking space on Commerce or Elm. Content of the show defies categorization or even adequate description, but Mitchell's first hour is usually programmed for audience call-in or e-mail participation with a celebrity, notable, topical or otherwise interesting guest in the Dallas studio. The second hour is often one-on-one interviews he conducts with authors, poets, politicos, historians and others with something to share. The variety of the guests and topics makes Mitchell's show the best; and we like the soft, Jimmy Stewart-like Everyman quality of his voice, too.

Readers' Pick

Kidd Kraddick

Back-alley cockfighting is deplorable. Good can come from it only if it's out in the open, broadcast even. And without using roosters. In fact, the best cockfights involve no cock at all. We prefer head-to-head combat between two new songs, instead of poultry, and each weeknight at 9, 102.1 the Edge provides that battle and right on our FM dial. Now hosted by Ayo (he took over for Josh Venable in August), the competition is decided by phone-in and e-mail votes from listeners. No throwing down crumpled fivers, no feathers flying. It's good, clean radio fun inspiring rabid debate among listeners. And no cocks are harmed on any of the broadcasts.

Ask anyone in town for the name of the premier political consultant in Dallas and you'll get two names: Carol Reed and Rob Allyn. Since their offices are on separate floors of the same building on McKinney Avenue, and since they often find themselves in competition, you might assume that there's a war going on in the stairwell. Your assumption would prove false, at least most of the time.

We've all heard much about political consultants, but what do they actually do? "I consider myself a general contractor," Reed says. "I help design the blueprint and then take that blueprint and make sure that everything gets done on time and according to plan. I set the budget, hire the subcontractors and then make sure that they do their jobs well and according to budget.

"I may be the one who makes the trains run on time, but Rob's great gift is his ability to translate a plan into a message and then deliver that message in the most effective and motivating way."

The two may be competitors, but they often hire each other for big projects, and while their relationship stops well short of that of James Carville and Mary Matalin, there appears to be a genuine friendship behind the scheming, bare-knuckle intensity that attends big-time politics. There's also mutual respect, collegiality and, at times, just the faintest whiff of Oedipal drama between the one-time mentor and her former protégé.

"In politics, truth is always one of the alternatives," Allyn deadpans. "And one of the things that I admire most about Carol is that she tells the truth to her clients." Here's what Reed has to say about Allyn: "As gifted and creative a writer as Rob may be, his biggest strength is his focus, his ability to stay on message for his clients."

Most of these clients are Republicans, and the same can be said of most of Reed's clients as well. Two notable exceptions: Reed handled Democrat Ron Kirk's mayoral campaigns as well as his run for the U.S. Senate, while Allyn helped Laura Miller become and remain mayor, defeating Reed's client Tom Dunning in the race to complete Kirk's term. Allyn also helped the mayor best Mary Poss (not Reed's client) in the election for a full term in the nominally non-partisan office. Aside from these walks on the political wild side, the two consultants have, between them over the last 20 years, worked for virtually every major Republican office holder in the state, as well as the two Presidents Bush and President Reagan.

Reed and Allyn are now working together to help pass the bond issue that would move the Dallas Cowboys to Arlington, a campaign spearheaded by Allyn. "I fought as long and as hard as I could to bring the Cowboys to the Cotton Bowl," says Reed, a former president of Friends of Fair Park. "After we lost that fight, I decided that I might as well take the money." Both predictably but probably accurately express optimism that the bond issue will pass.

The Dallas Cowboys campaign is emblematic of the consultants' involvement with lucrative clients and causes that are political but only quasi-governmental in nature: bond issues. The two have worked together successfully on referendum campaigns for the American Airlines Center and DART. Reed's solo victories include the Trinity River project, the 2002 DISD bond campaign and many bond campaigns for Dallas County, while Allyn's résumé boasts of successful campaigns on behalf of the Dallas Center for the Performing Arts and the Houston Metro.

One distinction between the two is that while Reed does business in other cities, her heart seems to be in Dallas, while Allyn casts a broader net, with offices in Austin, Phoenix and Mexico City. Allyn's international clients have included Mexican President Vicente Fox and Prime Minister Perry Christie of the Bahamas, as well as political parties and causes in Asia and the Middle East. Reed, on the other hand, has been extremely active in Dallas civic affairs, serving, among many other offices, as chair of the Dallas Convention & Visitors Bureau, president of the Dallas Rotary Club and on more than two dozen civic and charitable boards.

"A genuine difference between us is that while I certainly do work outside of Dallas, my community involvement keeps me focused here, while Rob actively seeks more national and international projects," Reed says.

Allyn, who sold his company in 2002 to Fleishman-Hillard, a public relations firm with offices in more than 100 countries, agrees. "We've always treated politics like a business," he says. "By definition, this approach also works for corporate clients. Our new affiliation gives us leverage and support to pursue business all over the world."

Meanwhile and for both, as long as there are elections, they plan to plan them.

"Corporate clients offer a challenge and pay the bills, but once politics is in your blood it remains your passion," Reed says. "You can go to rehab, but you're hooked forever."