Arts & Entertainment

Dallas Children's Theater's Young Adult Relevant Drama series (nicknamed "y.a.r.d.") presents plays that entertain the "tween" generation and explores topics important to that age group. This past year's lineup—the B-movie spoof The Mummy's Claw, the new play dont u luv me? about obsessive teen relationships, and the Anne Frank drama And Then They Came for Me—were beautifully produced, directed and acted by casts that featured some of Dallas' best adult actors alongside young performers getting their first roles in a professional setting. This series is sensitive to the issues faced by tweens, but finds fresh ways to address them while stimulating a love of live theater.

'Bout a year ago, back when Jack's first opened, a buddy of mine convinced us to check the place out, promising that the then-new Oak Cliff spot was gonna be quite the big deal in the very near future. Sure enough, what we saw upon arrival was, indeed, quite the chic, if somewhat hidden, hot spot. And it definitely didn't hurt that there were only two males in the place aside from one of the barkeeps. But it wasn't long before the place started drawing a bigger, more varied mix of patrons, and for good reason: An upscale bar with primo lounge seating, a well-kept pool table and glass garage doors that lead out to one of the best patios the region has to offer. It was only a matter of time before everyone else caught on to what was, if only for a short period of time, the LGBT set's best-kept secret.

It's not really fair to call this space an art gallery. It is and it isn't. The artwork showcased on the first floor of the gallery in Deep Ellum is from unknown artists presenting their first solo shows. "I'm a Peter Pan kind of guy," owner and photographer Hal Samples says. "Throw some pixie dust and have some people perpetuate dreams." Samples himself was homeless eight years ago, so he's keen on empowering people. "I found that there were artists that were looking to be seen, but they didn't have the opportunity. I wanted to give them a place to incubate." And so the gallery was born more than a year ago and features artists who have caught Samples' attention throughout his travel in the area. So what kind of art will you find here? "Art that makes me want to meet the person," Samples says.

What do we want—no, wait—what do we need from a bar for it to be a great bar, a go-to bar or, if the heavens align correctly, a home bar? Ample seating. Clean restrooms. An area outdoors for the smokers. Music. Stomach lining options. Good classic hooch. Great service. A TV to stare at when someone strange is trying to talk to us. A great jukebox. Prices that don't break the bank of hard-working folk who deserve a drink come happy hour. The Windmill Lounge has all of these requirements along with a simply smashing cocktail list, misters on the patio, themed big-screen nights, a cell phone lounge and chalkboard walls in the loo. Oh, and in addition to some chomp-worthy panini, the lounge also offers Triscuits with cream cheese and jalapeño jelly or Pickapeppa sauce.The jukebox at the Windmill Lounge is front-loaded with a well-chosen and diverse selection of standards (Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald), classic soul (James Brown, Curtis Mayfield), Texas singer-songwriters (Guy Clark, Joe Ely) and admirable young artists (Black Joe Lewis, Justin Townes Earle). But flip a few pages and you'll find the music less and less appealing, unless you're toasted, in which case your inner 15-year-old might giddily plop down the credits for bizarre selections like Pink, the Bloodhound Gang and the Anchorman soundtrack. Think of it as the perfect test of musical mettle also—if your date goes for the Barenaked Ladies, then you know it wasn't meant to be. If she cues up Otis Redding, you've got yourself a keeper.

There are plenty of reasons why the Libertine deserves recognition—the traditional pub atmosphere, the friendly faces behind the bar, and the fact that, even though it's not much of a venue, the place does its part to support local music with live performances. But the best reason to love the Libertine? The food offered up by the folks in the kitchen. The burger, the tuna sandwich, the three-way fries—they're all legit. And the best part: the pricing. Or, better yet, the half-pricing: Every Sunday, from 5 p.m. till midnight, this food, which has no right belonging in a straight-up bar like this, is offered at half the cost. Oh, and the reasonably priced, five-course monthly beer dinners ain't too shabby either.

One of the great joys of traveling is trying new beers that are hard to find in your home town. But who has the money to travel these days? Fortunately, if your travel budget has gone from Amsterdam, Germany and Fort Lauderdale to Addison, Garland and Fort Worth, you can still make like a tourist at your nearest Flying Saucer. With an ever-changing draft lineup, there will always be an unfamiliar brew waiting for you. And if you think you've got the liver and the lucre to try 200 different beers, you can join the U.F.O. Club; upon reaching that lofty goal you win a $100 bar tab and a commemorative plate to hang on the wall. Even if you fall short, you still get a T-shirt. Either way, not a bad souvenir.

For local nature buffs who don't make it out to the lake each day, J. R. Compton's Amateur Birder's Journal is the next best thing, filled with daily photos of myriad birds at White Rock Lake and their strange, wonderful behavior. From ducks to purple martins to hawks and even the occasional coyote, Compton covers it all—when he's not attending to his duties as editor and publisher of DallasArtsRevue.com, that is. Fellow bird blogger David J. Ringer, on the other hand, is merely based in Duncanville, but his work for an international nonprofit takes him to locations as far-flung as Kenya, where he documents the local wildlife (avian and otherwise) for his Search and Serendipity blog. If you're like us and rarely leave Texas, paging through Ringer's exotic photos will leave you planning ways to finance your own globe-hopping adventure.

When The Dallas Morning News told longtime Texas Rangers scribe Evan Grant that he'd be moving into a group of several Dallas Cowboys beat writers resulting from the paper's agreement to share sports coverage with the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, he decided it was time to ply his craft someplace else. He found an unlikely partner in D Magazine publisher Wick Allison, who admits he knows nothing about sports, but was sold on Grant's sales pitch to create a comprehensive Rangers blog with assistance from former News assistant sports editor Jeff Miller and baseball blogger and lawyer Mike Hindman. Despite the tough economy, Allison secured three key sponsors. Grant later added popular radio host and sports guru Bob Sturm, and the rest is blogging history.

Here's the deal, Dallas: Considering how important a role the blues played in our city's musical history (y'know, "Deep Ellum Blues," and all that), it's really a goddamn shame how there aren't all that many clubs—well, many clubs worth mentioning, at least—that offer up the genre on a regular basis. Last we heard, there's one coming back to Deep Ellum, thank you very much, in the spot behind the Twisted Root, right where the Red Blood Club used to be. But for the time being, may we recommend the Pearl for your misery-loves-company ways? Located on the east edge of downtown, it's close to our city's historical blues home in Deep Ellum, and with touring and local blues performers coming in on a regular basis—including a Monday happy hour residency from Miss Marcy and her Texas Sugar Daddies—along with a slew of jazz and folk artists, it's the only place we can look you straight in the eye and offer up as a cure for your Lack of Deep Ellum blues blues.

OK, we'll forgive you if you spent about a week thinking Cowboys quarterback Tony Romo's All-American romance with local pop princess Jessica Simpson was adorably appropriate. After all, why wouldn't America's hot-and-ditzy princess want in on a little career Romomentum? But after the infamous pink jersey loss and the disappointments that followed, was there anyone in town besides bloggers hard-up for material who really wanted to see the couple last? Honestly, we're glad to see Romo's taken to an Entourage-like, Afflicton-attired existence. Sure, he's douche-y and less likable now, but when it comes to Cowboys football, we don't mind a little bros philosophy.

They say a lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client, but that hasn't stopped Dallas attorney Gary Vodicka from waging thermonuclear war against Southern Methodist University over the last four years, alleging the school committed fraud as it went about amassing units in his condo complex, the University Gardens, only to tear them down to make room for the Bush Library. Vodicka became a genuine pain in the docket to SMU, humiliating the school, wearing down a whole team of its lawyers in a case that spans 25 thickly stuffed court jackets. Although he turned down a settlement offer of $1 million for his demolished condo unit, he finally settled the case in July for an undisclosed amount. Vodicka also managed to convince State District Judge Martin Hoffman to allow him to depose former President George W. Bush himself. The ruling didn't stand on appeal, but the fact that Vodicka got as far as he did was as amazing as it was unprecedented.

Julie Jackson is a genius. Recession be damned, she nailed her ideal demographic and tapped into that ever-purchasing, wacky world of cat lovers with her company Kitty Wigs. And although the tiny, incredibly flattering and fashionable wigs instantly caused quite a stir when the company launched, over the last couple of years, the public began wanting even more. Along with her boy-cat Boone, Kitty Wigs photographer Jill Johnson, and 25 other feline models and their owners, the Kitty Wigs creator has turned fashion into published art with the creation of Glamourpuss: The Enchanting World of Kitty Wigs. The tome features 60 photos featuring all manner of tiny wigs and their whiskered wearers. While it took around two months for Jackson and Johnson to shoot and gather all the photos for the book (featuring recognizable locales such as Lee Harvey's), it's safe to say the page-flipping pleasure will last much longer.

It's no secret that a greasy breakfast complete with Barbec's legendary beer biscuits is one of the best hangover cures in Dallas. If you find yourself treating your date to one of their famous breakfasts (lucky you), don't forget to stop by the free zoo that is Boutique Pet Shop, where the cuddly guinea pigs, flashy saltwater fish and adorable love birds will help melt the heart of that special someone. Then head home and do as the rabbits do.

All right, Mr. or Ms. Readerpants, wherever you may be, we already hear you groaning and going on about how predictable we are, choosing Angela Hunt again as Dallas' best city council member, playing favorites. This is the third time we've done it since 2007. Well, you know, that's the predicament we're in. They don't call these awards the "OKs of Dallas." This is the Best of, and she is the best. Look at it this way. Try going through the rest of the city council by elimination. Let's see what all the cliques are: You've got your crooks, your socialites, your suck-ups, your sleepyheads. So, yeah, who would you pick? Vonciel Hill is smart, but she tends to linger too much in the shadow of the mayor. We've got hopes for new members Delia Jasso and Ann Margolin, but you can't buy groceries with hope. The thing about Hunt is that she's money in the bank. As Hunt begins her third two-year term on the council, we see her adding a whole lot of seasoning and steel to an already well-formed character as the smart maverick. She isn't a member of a clique, but she gets along well with those who are. She knows when to hold 'em, as she has on the Trinity River, but she knows the even harder thing—when to fold 'em, as she did on approval of the bonds for the new convention hotel. She'd make a great mayor. She's probably too smart to go for it, which is our loss. But we'll make a deal with you. If she ever does become the mayor of Dallas, we'll make a sincere effort to find somebody else who deserves Best Sitting Mayor of Dallas more than she does.

This scripted Web series launched in early August, but even at its onset, it was clear that the folks behind the serial shorts were on to something kinda special. Self-produced by Richard Neal and his staff at Zeus Comics (4411 Lemmon Ave., Suite 105), the series promises a look at the comic book world "from the other side of the counter." And that's just what it offers: a Clerks-like (but better acted), sexually charged paean to geekdom that references names and topics only recognizable by the nerdiest of collectors. But even amongst the insider chatter, the series scores laughs by focusing on the neuroses and awkward compulsions of the store's employees. The Variants is pretty entertaining stuff—so much so that you pretty much forget that you're watching what essentially amounts to a nine-minute commercial for the store.

As the title character in Matt Lyle's silent film homage The Boxer, Jeff Swearingen, 31, showed off physical comedy finesse inspired by Keaton, Chaplin and maybe a bit of PeeWee Herman. He teamed with Lyle again to play Blork, the Franken-Romeo in the silly-romantic Hello Human Female. A veteran of several improv groups, the actor got his start at The Dallas Hub and has worked with theaters all over North Texas. Next he'll play an alcoholic magician in Audacity Stage's Milky Way Cabaret in November. And look for him as Ebenezer Scrooge (his favorite character) at Plano Community Theatre. When did he realize he was funny? "When I was about 6, a group of adults were talking about how funny Bill Cosby was, and my older brother walked up and informed them that nobody was funnier than I was," Swearingen says. "I learned comedy by making my brothers laugh." When Swearingen is on a stage, everybody laughs.

Since her local theater debut in Dallas Children's Theater's Charlotte's Web in 2005, this UT-Austin grad has been popping up in comic roles on both sides of the Trinity. Shivers, 29, was a stitch as the lady cop in Circle Stage's hit Unnecessary Farce and made Ochre House audiences roar as Timmy in Matt Lyle's Hello Human Female. Inspired by Carol Burnett and Lucille Ball, Shivers says she dreams of playing frazzled maid Dotty Otley in the ultimate farce, Noises Off. Shivers' secret of comedy success? "Just be fearless. If you're playing it safe, it won't be as funny as it can be. Don't be afraid to look like an idiot."

Proprietor Richard Blair has created a community theater beloved by its surrounding community. There's never a weekend dark at this 150-seat, in-the-round playhouse tucked beside an old movie theater in a Hurst shopping center. Double- and sometimes triple-casting roles, Artisan gives amateur actors lots of work in shows like My Fair Lady, Grease, Nunsense and other family-friendly titles. The house is always full (tickets are only $12), and the atmosphere is casual (snacking is allowed and encouraged). The recent hiring of Broadway veteran John Wilkerson as full-time artistic director is a good sign that Artisan's already popular shows might be getting more professional polish.

If you find yourself in the unfortunate position of being charged with a petty crime and without sufficient funds to pay your debt to society, you'd be damn lucky if you landed in the courtroom of Teresa Tolle. A former nun, Tolle wears her compassion on her robe and is willing to buck the district attorney's standard plea recommendations for fines, and even the length of probationary periods, in order to accommodate financial hardship. Needless to say, she is adored by the criminal bar, though prosecutors may worry that her standard of proof is different from theirs. But in a job in which seeing humanity's masses daily offer lame excuses for conduct that ranges from the cruel to the idiotic to the benign, she manages to care. And that says something.

Burns was the Morning News investment columnist for 21 years until three years ago when he walked out the back door in one of the News' draconian staff cuts. But he's still in the paper on Sundays and Thursdays as an independent "syndicated" columnist, meaning he works for himself now and sells his column back to the News and 82 other newspapers around the country. Let's not even try to understand why the News would allow Burns to leave but keep Steve Bloviatin' Blow on the payroll. The point here is that Burns has always churned out smart, people-centric investment advice without a drop of churn-and-burn hype. The fact that he is semi-retired himself—and an entrepreneurial success in his golden years—only adds to his credibility. For a straight-on treatment of financial issues in language you can understand, Burns can't be beat. And who knows? Stay in a state park some day: He might be that bald guy in the Airstream next to you.

Don't expect a red carpet or a VIP list here—it's a divey sort of place where you can never be sure what lies in store. Relatively small and cave-like, with a rustic concrete floor and DJs spinning on the weekends, it tends to turn into an all-out dance party on Friday nights. Like any dance party worth its salt, this includes a decent dose of '80s music, along with some contemporary tracks in the mix. The crowd is generally laidback, the same people who patronize The Amsterdam and The Meridian Room nearby. Occasionally the place is surprisingly empty, which we think is cool, because it means you can create your own private dance party for special occasions.

With the advent of new dog parks around the metroplex, this competition has gotten downright dog-eat-dog. (Sorry.) It would be easy to bark up the same old tree (another apology) and give the Mockingbird Point Dog Park at White Rock Lake, which teaches socialization skills for both man and beast, our annual nod. But there is a new canine scene in town, Unleashed, and it has amenities other dog parks can't match. First off, it's indoors, has 25,000 square feet of K9Grass, an antimicrobial, easy on the paws (and the human nose) synthetic grass, and safe environs, with attendants on call to break up any fight between territorial terriers or whomever. Yes, there's a fee, but it's worth it, particularly during long bouts of inclement weather when Rover just can't rove without getting heat stroke or mud-caked paws. There's a café and a lounge and on-site grooming—a one-of-a-kind experience for dog and dog lover. The only thing missing from the indoor park is well, the outdoors, and that's in the park's future.

We know you guys love Salim Nourallah. He's won the Best Producer award at the Dallas Observer Music Awards for, like, eleventy years now. But you guys are dead wrong on this one, as Nourallah isn't even close to the best producer in North Texas—especially considering that world-class talents like Stuart Sikes (White Stripes, Dove Hunter), Matt Pence (Centro-matic, American Music Club) and John Congleton (St. Vincent, The Paper Chase) reside here. That's not even counting our personal favorite sound engineer, the Echo Lab's Matt Barnhart, who not only worked on two of last year's best records—Shearwater's Rook and The New Year's self-titled release—but also found time (when he wasn't on the road running sound for A.C. Newman, Lift to Experience or The New Year, that is) for a slew of locals, including Deep Snapper, Les Americains, The Angelus, Nervous Curtains and his own Tre Orsi. Consider this a wake-up call for your ears, dear readers. Vote Barnhart in 2010.

Don't let the Uptown yuppies in their Polo shirts and Banana Republic slacks fool you: There is, indeed, quite the hip streetwear fashion scene in Dallas—and it's growing every year. Case in point: Kixpo, Dallas' annual sneaker and streetwear expo. Run by a group of sneaker and streetwear fiends who collectively call themselves Dead Stock, the annual event draws sneakerheads and fashion-savvy skate-punks from far beyond North Texas into town for a weekend of hip-hop, basketball and, most important, a couple hours of showing off. The third annual event, held this past July 25 at Life in Deep Ellum, saw a room full of sneaker collectors, streetwear fashion boutiques and mixtape makers showing off their own collections' finest pieces. And, even though few items were actually for sale—"Don't Touch!" signs littered the display booths covered in some of the flashiest kicks you've ever seen—around 2,000 squeezed into the room to jealously stare down the materials being flaunted. With an increasing fan base and not too many other national sneaker conventions to speak of, the sky seems the limit for this foot-obsessed, fetishy upstart.

Lots of countries have a can-do spirit, but if there's one that combines serious fun and frolic with theirs, it's Ireland. After a potato famine as well as civil, political and religious unrest for years, the island of Éire and its people still know how to party (that's probably why they know how to party, now that we think about it). Thus, the North Texas Irish Festival makes for one helluva weekend. You get the full-on guts, the humor, the dances, the music (the festival books an impressive roster of Irish and Celtic performers, both modern and traditional) , yes, the potent potables of the fair green land, perfectly imported for Dallas. We're not sure Ireland is really known for its face painting, but the NTIF often has that too, should the kiddos demand it. More than 60,000 people attended this last year—which is impressive for a festival celebrating but one culture—so really, who are we to doubt the shamrockian shenanigans?

You may think downtown Dallas is the last place on earth you'd go to relax, but you're missing out. Located in the heart of downtown is a free sculpture garden shaded by mature oaks and filled with pools of water and forceful waterfalls. The large area is surrounded by 12-foot concrete walls draped in twisted ivy, so the traffic noise is muffled. The sculptures placed throughout the garden are made of bronze, stone or wood, like the French Henri Laurens abstract bronze from 1937. The large artworks and surprising large surface area of the garden have an expansive effect on your psyche. Take a book and sit at one of the cafe tables by one of the four falls inside. It's open during regular museum hours, from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. on the weekdays and weekends and on Thursdays until 9 p.m.

Be prepared to enter a whole new world: photos displayed on flat screens of muscular, all-American men in cowboy hats with hairless chests; a front "parlor" for karaoke where "they sing all the time," said a bouncer; and an authentic, good-sized dance floor for country dancing. Above the sunken dance floor, a giant neon red outline of the great state of Texas surrounds a spinning disco ball, which shoots off flashes of color around the room. Three times a week—Monday, Tuesday and Thursday—show up for free country dance lessons from 8:30 to 10 p.m. While you're there, try the most popular shots, a Jagerbomb or a Cowboy Cock Sucker. That's butterscotch schnapps and a bit of Irish cream, y'all.

The drink specials aren't all that special during Stein Hour at Bavarian Grill: $2.75 domestic longnecks, $3.25 Loewenbraus, or a dollar off selected drafts. They're better than nothing, but going to a bar with so many great German brews only to drink domestic longnecks (or Loewenbrau, for that matter) is like going to Six Flags and never getting off the parking tram. It's the food specials that really make Stein Hour so happy. For each half-liter draft, you can add an authentic Bavarian biergarten dish for just 95 cents: weisswurst or Bratwürstel sausages with mustard, crispy meatloaf frikadelles, tangy and meaty goulash, chicken-and-grape salad and more. They're substantial snacks, too, plenty to tide you over till a late dinner. Better yet, have a few as a light meal. Prost!

The trails at Southwest Dallas' Audubon-managed Cedar Ridge Preserve make for some of the best hiking in North Texas. Whether you pick the leisurely Possumhaw Trail or the heavy woods and elevation changes of the Cedar Break Trail, you're sure to enjoy the experience, which puts the hiking at nearby Cedar Hill State Park to shame. (If you're with your honey the observation towers are prime make-out spots too.) After all that hiking, you'll find it easy to justify a post-exercise treat at Sheridan's, where the frozen custard will satisfy any sweet tooth. We'd suggest the Grant's Grasshopper (vanilla custard with mint, chocolate chips and Oreos), but we're sure you'll have your own ideas—a Brownie Bling Pothole, perhaps?

The King Bucks may have left their Monday night residency that carried this honky-tonk for the past two years, but the fact remains: If you wanna throw on some cowboy boots, throw back some Lone Star and throw your dance partner around the floor without much regard for anyone judging you from the sidelines, Adair's still remains the tops in town. And there are still some fairly choice residencies to keep things going: Acoustic country crooner Ben Smith holds down the fort for laid-back Sunday nights, Oklahoma-based country rocker Rachel Stacy makes the trip to keep things interesting every Monday night, and local honky-tonk covers outfit RED keeps the boot-scootin' going every Wednesday—to the tune of $1.50 drafts, no less. And, better yet, you won't be forced into any line-dancing. Not here, thank God.

Since Starbucks became the new McDonald's, finding a good independent, local coffee shop can be tough. But after Brady Cottle took over and renovated this Oak Lawn establishment, it offers delicious home-brewed coffee and espresso drinks, pastries by local baker extraordinaire Samantha Rush (needless to say, her work blows Starbucks' tired baked goods out of the water), as well as creative art and photographs by Dallas-area artists and live music each week. And, in addition to donating at least 7 percent of daily revenue to nonprofit organizations, Cottle often sells products made by artisans in developing countries and holds frequent fund-raisers for causes such as cancer research and groups that help people living with HIV/AIDS.

This Exposition Park staple isn't really a jazz club, but step into this European-styled bar on a Monday night and, traditional jazz room settings be damned, you're gonna see yourself as good a night of jazz performance as offered by any other venue in town. Bad Ass Jazz, as the night is called, is pretty much just what the title implies—a night of the region's finest jazz talents rotating in and out of the playing area in the back of the room, sharing smiles, drinks and enough improvised jazz solos and group jams to keep the always-crowded room delighted. Even to the uneducated jazz listener, it's an impressive sight, not to mention an easy way to pretend you're more cultured than you probably are. Plus, it's free.

Even experienced karaoke singers can be intimidated by a bar full of strangers. But at Family Karaoke's private rooms, you can be jeered by just your closest friends. Three sizes of rooms accommodate groups of two to 25, and bar and food service directly to your room keeps the party going. Choose your favorites from a good selection of American pop hits (and tons more in Korean, Thai and Chinese) backed by bizarre, music video-style graphics. The story about the penguin researchers was our favorite. Even if you already have evening plans, you can rock karaoke into the wee hours of the morning: Reservations are available till 4 a.m. on weekends.

The blue glow of laptops lights up the faces of Buli Café's regular late-night customers. Sitting along the wall against faux-fur cushions are budding screenwriters, playwrights, Facebook freaks and others with reasons to be online after dark. The nighttime crowd here comes in for strong coffee roasted on the premises (and served in sizes from Twink to Butch), plus tasty paninis and sinful desserts made by Massimo bakery. Open into the wee hours, Buli is one of the few coffee shops in the Oak Lawn area to stay up late and keep the free Wi-Fi going. Buli (pronounced BYOO-lee) is a sort-of acronym for "Because You Love It." And as long as they let us tippy-type and tipple those Twinks past 12, we do.

Don't really know the logic behind this massive, longtime area favorite being named Escapade 2009, as it has been for some time now, but, hey, at least it makes it easier when saying things like, "Hey, Escapade, this really is your year, huh?" Nyuk, nyuk. But, seriously, there are like a bajillion Escapades across Texas, all with different years after their name. And with good reason: These places are clearly gold mines, if this one up near Northwest Highway is any indication. The place regularly brings in enough folks to justify its hefty size. And the music? Just some of the best that the touring Spanish-speaking set has to offer, traditional enough so that sus padres won't disown you, but modern enough so that they won't want to join you.

Imagine, if you will, the type of live music venue that'd be opened by a grown-up, matured hippie—one who's survived years of hitting the road and following his favorite jam bands for entire tours. It'd probably look and feel exactly like the Granada Theater. And that's just what the Granada is. This year, Mike Schoder, former owner of CD World and a diehard live music fan, and his friendly serenity—and not, mind you, security—staff, are celebrating five years of bringing top-notch touring acts to town and supporting the locals when it can. In this economy, that's incredible; in any economy, the Granada's well worth toasting.

Audiences fell for exceedingly handsome Ian Sinclair in The Nibroc Trilogy, staged by Echo Theatre first at the Bath House Cultural Center, then revived to sell-out crowds at Theatre Too. Sinclair, 25, played the leading man in all three plays, an experience he says "had a profound effect on me as a person." Raised on Swiss Avenue, the Texas Christian University drama grad debuted professionally with Shakespeare Dallas in a 2007 reading of Titus Andronicus. He's worked steadily as an actor ever since, earning good dough as a voiceover artist on commercials and "funimation" cartoons. This fall he co-stars in a revival of The Black Monk at Undermain Theatre (through October 3). His immediate goal: To act at the new Dallas Theater Center and Kitchen Dog Theater. Dream roles? "Being a leading man is a lot of fun. I wouldn't mind staying on that train."

Classically trained at the London Drama Studio, Emily Gray and husband Matthew (a company member at Dallas Theater Center) tried New York before settling in Dallas. In the past year, Emily's been acting up a storm, from the violent Popcorn at Theatre Three (she played a serial killer in short-shorts) to the wacky Season's Greetings at Theatre Too (where she romped in a red nightie), to Trinity Shakespeare Fest's Romeo and Juliet (she played the Nurse and stole the show), and right into Seagulls at the Festival of Independent Theatres. In her mid-30s, Emily has a Streep-y blond beauty that she doesn't mind disguising for a character role (for Shakespeare's nurse, she browned her teeth and glued on moles). Using her native Brit accent or an assortment of American dialects, she's a total pro. And if her voice sounds familiar, you probably heard it on an audio book. She's the reader of the popular Shopaholic series.

Twelve tracks and a hair over 37 minutes long, this late spring release from Denton's Teenage Cool Kids surprised more than a few people with something poppier than listeners might've come to expect from this previously kinda snotty, lo-fi punk quartet of Andrew Savage (guitar, lead vocals), Daniel Zeigler (guitar), Bradley Kerl (drums) and Chris Pickering (bass). It's reminiscent of the earliest, best Built to Spill—and yet somehow, no joke, a little improved. And it doesn't take long to realize as much—actually, it only takes 53 seconds. That's the point at which, on album opener "Reservoir Feelings," the music switches from a somber guitar melody to the muddled, beautiful mess the next 36 minutes will provide. Cued by Savage's words "There's a lake in the caverns of my heart," that moment also signals the kind of head-spinningly-confused-by-love wordplay that shines throughout the rest of the disc, but especially on the catchy sing-along anthems "Foreign Lands," "Speaking in Tongues" and "Poison Sermons." An immediate must-have for any music fan, this is the kind of disc that transcends the term "local music." This is just "music," dammit, and great music at that.

While his columnist colleagues at The Dallas Morning News abuse the word "ridiculous" or parlay their day jobs into multimedia careers, Sherrington routinely turns a pretty cool magic trick. He writes like he's old, without actually being old. Granted, he recently survived a serious health scare, but came out the other side as cynical and stylish as ever. Sherrington's prose isn't always filled with in-depth interviews or on-the-scene imagery, but his perspective and finger on the pulse of Dallas sports history makes his offerings delicious, even important. In Gary Cartwright's biting Texas Monthly piece about the "Death of Sportswriting," he gives Sherrington clemency, referring to him as "Sherrod Lite." Good enough for us.

Last we heard, NX35 still hadn't secured funding for next year's festival, but that doesn't mean the March 2009 one put on by the Baptist Generals' Chris Flemmons was a failure. In fact, it was arguably the biggest local music event of the year, with roughly 90 local bands and road acts descending on Denton for four incredible nights of music. The sets by Bandera's Possessed By Paul James and Tel Aviv's Monotonix burned themselves into many an attendee's memory, but it was the festival's surprisingly efficient organization and vast display of local talent—from True Widow to Warren Jackson Hearne and the Merrie Murdre of Gloomadeers and everything in between—that left the biggest impression.

There's not much to it, really. In fact, NTXshowlist is solely what its name makes it out to be: a Web site that does nothing but display each day's concert listings, offering up gigs from touring and local acts alike. But, in today's convoluted, Flash-driven and commenter-ruined Internet age, the site, run by Gutterth Productions' Michael Briggs and Brent Frishman (who are also maybe the two biggest music fans in the entire region), the site's biggest strength is its simplicity. There are no pictures, no descriptions of the shows, and no critiques of the bands playing. Again: It's. Just. A. List. Here's how it works: Briggs and Frishman, ever-attentive watchers of the local scene, keep an eye on each venue's upcoming calendars, compile them into one place and add in the shows that their readers send their way. And that, an incredibly simple but undeniably useful tool, is all it needs to be.

Director Billy Fountain has gained the reputation of doing a lot on a stage with very little money. The Pleasant Grove native has been teaching for 20 years, but he's slowly been building an impressive résumé of shows in community theaters during the past three seasons. This year he staged a critically acclaimed One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest at Onstage in Bedford, then re-created some of Monty Python's best bits for a small theater in Grapevine. He wet down his actors for The Tempest at The Dallas Hub and directed singing zombies for Evil Dead: The Musical. For his new Level Ground Arts company, he'll direct a series of Edgar Allan Poe stories this fall and do a play he wrote about Lee Harvey Oswald called Crushing Grain (opening November 22), then mount a stage adaptation of Plan 9 from Outer Space (December). What would he direct with an unlimited budget? "The musical Chess," he says. "I'd kill to put that onstage."

Designing a topless bar is like cooking a bowl of porridge for Goldilocks. Dim the house lights, flood it with too much black light and pump up the DJ's volume, and the environment is just too distracting, making it hard to see what you came there to see. On the other hand, boost the lighting too much, and sometimes you can see things you'd really rather not (cellulite, dudes, Dad). Burch Management Co.'s nationally celebrated club Baby Dolls gets it just right, with a huge rectangular bar overlooking a gigantic turntable stage lit by an array of lights that strike the perfect balance, letting you see what you came there for—the free lunch buffet. OK, maybe not the buffet, but certainly a feast of tanned, beautiful women. Six mini-stages scattered about the massive, well-lit room add to the variety, and a dim upstairs area is the perfect little hideaway for a private dance. Tired of looking at fit and fantastic women? Then check out the more-than-50 widescreen televisions tuned to sports. (What's wrong with you?) The whole club has a friendly vibe, like the lobby of a Vegas hotel but with none of the aggressive pushiness that makes a club-goer feel like a mark. It's the perfect strip club for tasteful shy folk who appreciate the aesthetics of a well-toned body. Yeah, that's it...

The revitalization of Oak Cliff couldn't happen without the efforts of selfless, community-minded volunteers like Jason Roberts. He's an IT consultant, a husband and a father, but his volunteer efforts alone would be enough to drive a lesser man mad. He co-founded the nonprofit Art Conspiracy, which raises money for art and music charities; in fact, his band, Happy Bullets, often plays Art Conspiracy fund-raisers. Roberts is also spearheading the effort to rehab the historic Texas Theater for community use and helped found two transportation-related neighborhood groups, Bike Friendly Oak Cliff and the Oak Cliff Transportation Authority. The OCTA is working to secure $96 million in federal funds to build new streetcar lines in Oak Cliff. BFOC, meanwhile, is planning a 10-day bike festival for October as well as a Safe Routes To School initiative. It's this kind of effort that earned him the Oak Cliff Chamber of Commerce Volunteer of the Year award in 2008. Now if only he'd get cracking on the next Happy Bullets album.

By "new," we mean Democratic, since they came in droves—all 42 of them during the 2006 election. And just because they are Democrats and different from what we had before (read: Republicans) doesn't mean they aren't susceptible to the same judicial foibles as their predecessors—arrogance, ignorance of the law, fear of making a decision, bad taste in robes. But Judge Marty Lowy has none of these, and any judge who attended the original Woodstock—all three days—is bound to be able to keep an open mind. He is not afraid to criticize the Dallas Bar Association when he thinks they act too politically. Yet he did well in the DBA bar poll and is liked by lawyers for his fairness and competence. Judge Craig Smith runs a close second on our list, but Lowy plays a mean guitar in a lawyer boy-band and that put him ahead by a chord.

Back in August, when Clint and Whitney Barlow reopened the much-loved space that once saw Kurt Cobain get his ass kicked by a security guard, they had to deal with the pressure of living up to the hype of the club of the same name, which had closed four and a half years earlier. And because it wasn't exactly the same Trees—most notably, it's nicer, thanks to the improvements the Barlows made to the room's sound system, bar, green room, bathrooms and other amenities—the old "I remember back when Deep Ellum was cool in the late '80s!" set that had previous begged for the venue to reopen complained because the same types of bands weren't being booked. Well, we hate to break it to ya, folks, but Funland's not reuniting anytime soon. And, well, neither is Nirvana. Sure, we too have our issues with some of the bands getting added to the calendar, but let's not lose sight of the big picture here: We all wanted the place to open, but didn't think it ever would. Then the Barlows came in and did the unthinkable. Let's not forget that. Rather, let's cheer it on, lest we see it die before our eyes again.

Feeling strung out? At regular "lace-ins," the ladies of the Dallas Lace Society meet to teach and practice the old-fashioned, very relaxing arts of bobbin lace and tatting—methods of creating intricately woven patterns using only fingers, simple tools and threads and yarns. Workshops focusing on various projects and advanced techniques are held throughout the year. Guests are welcome. Membership is $15 per year.

Sure, the great food and wine selection keeps the clientele at Bolsa satisfied despite the long waits and occasionally lazy service. It's the décor that really sells it, however—anyone who knew it in its former incarnation as Settles Auto Garage would be amazed with the clean, airy feel of Bolsa's interior now. The patio is even better, sharing an indoor/outdoor bar with the building and using the auto garage's reclaimed cement to approximate a limestone floor. The modern wooden slats overhead let in just the right amount of light, while the xeriscaped exterior contributes to the funky Oak Cliff feel that keeps the joint busy with a hip, diverse clientele night after night. Now that the stifling heat of summer is finally behind us, it's the perfect time to enjoy the outdoors.

It started off as an old warehouse used for numerous businesses like Mohawk Rubber Co. and Tejano Rodeo. Now you know it as the Dallas World Aquarium, home to various underwater species. For only $18 (plus some tax) you get to feel like you are standing in the middle of a rain forest or getting the secret skinny about what really happens under the ocean's surface. Throughout the day they have feeding and performance times scheduled for almost everything from penguins to Orinoco crocodiles. Dallas World Aquarium also has a gift shop, bookstore and a few restaurants, if you feel like you need to take a break from the oceanic adventure. The best thing about this aquarium is that they're closed only on Thanksgiving and Christmas. So you can pick up and go whenever, except at night, because the animals need their rest too.

It's happened at least once. We have a personal account from a trusted source and read that saucy little blurb from The Dallas Morning News' Alan Peppard: In April, Preston Hollow residents George W. and Lady Laura arrived fully backed by black SUVs and Secret Service to dine at the Mercury Grill. Before they even received the menu, the former first couple was met with a standing ovation from fellow diners. Should we be surprised? Probably not given the old money and silver hair that is known to populate the bar and dining floor of the Mercury, but then maybe we have it all wrong. Perhaps the applause was meant as a "Glad you're back here, and not in the White House! Woo hoo!"

Who would have thought that a swift-boating Dallas billionaire would raise a daughter with a strong social conscience? But Serena Simmons Connelly, a social worker and the daughter of Harold Simmons, is one of the backers of It's a Grind, a unique Deep Ellum coffee shop dedicated to the mission of providing a livable wage, full health benefits and an ethical workplace to its employees, who are hired despite their troubled backgrounds—asylum seekers, immigrants, victims of domestic violence, ex-convicts, reformed prostitutes—pretty much anyone in dire need of a second chance. Its employment practices build fiercely loyal baristas who make a damn fine cuppa Joe, as well. The social experiment has only been going on since November, but it's building community while also serving delicious baked goods.

Yes, The Clubhouse, like so many other establishments on Manana Drive, is a strip club. And, as strip clubs go, it's probably not the tops in town. But, unlike the other gentlemen's establishments of the region, this one offers more to stare at than naked women. Owned by Arlington native and famed Pantera drummer Vinnie Paul Abbott, the club's walls are lined with something it usually takes more than a couple dollar bills to see: gold and platinum records signifying what's becoming more and more a monumental achievement in today's music industry—selling 500,000 and 1 million records, respectively. And it's not just Vinnie Paul's own records that line the walls. Plaques commemorating acts like Godsmack and others join his in what has to be the coolest music collection that Dallas boasts (apologies to the new Hard Rock Café in Victory Park). And it's all out there in the open, ready for you to scan. Just like the boobies.

Since the smoking ban, places in Dallas are still a bit stale, but it's nothing compared to the stank that once permeated hair and clothing after a night out in Big D. Even smokers had to spray down and air out. But no more. No more, that is, unless you go to see a band in Denton. Sure, Fort Worth still lights up, but without the intense fervor of Denton bar patrons. Stand next to four people in Denton, and chances are three will pull out a cig. We even put on our dirtiest jeans to avoid ruining clean ones when heading north. Save Dan's Silverleaf, which is smoke-free for many shows, watching a band in little d is like looking through a fog, and breathing it. So thank you, Dan. Maybe you can pave the way for other venues to provide a smokeless, odorless zone for drinkers and music lovers. Perhaps Denton can make a change...and not just out of those smoky jeans.

Actor-writer-director and self-described madman Matthew Posey lives not just for the theater but in one. The Ochre House, tucked between a couple of bars on Exposition Avenue just a corndog's throw from Fair Park, is Posey's experimental playhouse and his home (shared with a dog named Walter). The theater space is up front—a small stage, plastic chairs and shelves showing off Posey's collection of oddities. This year he's done X-rated puppet shows, premiered a biographical "autopsy" on the last days of Hunter S. Thompson (written and played by Posey looking eerily like the Gonzo journalist) and hosted Matt Lyle's quirky new comedy, Hello Human Female. There are hints of Posey's 1980s Deep Ellum Theatre Garage here, but with a new vibe that says, "Come in, sit down and see something weird and wonderful."

Sometimes the office, with its unnatural lighting and extreme temperatures, can get on your nerves and make you unproductive. Not to mention unfriendly. Get out for an afternoon and haul your laptop to this independent coffee house that feels more like a loving pal's living room. The furniture is a mix of thrift store finds and goods from estate sales. The sandwiches are made with love by the staff, and the vegan cookies are also tasty. We've never once had trouble settling in at a table and falling into a deep, productive trance with the help of the great music selection.

Like everyone else, we expected the trial of former Mayor Pro Tem Don Hill and four others charged with bribery and extortion to produce little drama. The case was going to be a slam dunk, right? The FBI had more than 30,000 hours in wiretaps, more than 5,000 exhibits and its biggest witness—Brian Potashnik—struck a plea deal the night before jury selection. But the opening arguments showed that the feds had a long way to go to prove their case, as the wiretaps they played didn't directly implicate Hill. As the witnesses began to take the stand, including Potashnik, the defense team (led by Victor Vital) raised doubts about strength of the case against the five defendants. All this and former council members Al Lipscomb, Diane Ragsdale and Sandra Crenshaw in the courtroom? Now that's drama.

If it's hard being a Republican these days in Dallas County, it's got to be even harder recruiting Republicans to run for office in Dallas County. But that's part of Jonathan Neerman's job as chair of the county Republican Party. (He is also a full-time attorney at a major Dallas law firm.) Though he is the standard-bearer for all things Republican here, he is not above criticizing his own party when necessary, sounding reasonable and prudent even at the risk of alienating that part of his party's base consisting of Christian conservatives and ideologically pure right-wingers. Instead, he hopes to expand that base by extending a bigger tent and appealing to minorities whom he feels are often more fiscally and socially conservative than many Democrats. Party chair may not be his final political dance card. Some say that he is interested in seeking higher office—if you call the state Legislature higher office.

The lobby of the Joule Hotel is a dark cavern that stretches far into the building. It's full of mesmerizing artwork by Andy Warhol and a rotating installation on the ceiling. Pay it no mind. Make your way to the row of elevators on the right. Get off at the 10th floor and push open the exit door to discover a breathtaking contrast between old and new Dallas. The pool deck is a modern marvel of luxury divans and cooling lavender mist. Drinks like the tangerine mojito, cucumber sage margarita and watermelon sangria go for $10. But all around you are the middles and tops of the famous buildings of Dallas' skyline. Some are vacant, but most are restored like this building's 1920s Neo-Gothic façade. The pool is public (for now).

Yeah, it's cool the Double Wide has had an electric bull in its parking lot. We owned that animal, by the way. But this year, when the Fourth of July came around with triple-digit torture, the ol' D-Dub provided some low-budget relief. Those watching the Fair Park Fourth fireworks from the DW's parking lot (while downing a dollar dog from the grill) were rewarded. In addition to water rifles and lawn chairs, owner Kim Finch had pulled out all the stops and bought several sizes of kiddie pools. Some patrons chose to cool off by wading. Others chose full-body submersion (both voluntary and involuntary as the night wore on). It was bliss right there in the middle of downtown asphalt. Suffice to say, the Double Wide is probably the only venue that could pull off such an event. Think about it: multiple kiddie pools in front of a Double Wide on the Fourth of July. Just seems right.

All over Dallas, people are just trying to make it happen. Trying to keep the paychecks coming, trying to drum up business. Everyone's heard that "sex sells," but in the last few years, the phrase seems to have changed to "sexy chicks outside buildings in swimsuits with spotlights directed at them sell." What do they sell? Beer. The best of the garish lighting set-ups and tiniest of the bikini bottoms can be found right next to Bachman Lake (shocker) at that bright yellow beer-lover beacon, The Palms. Bored-looking girls (with the makeup it's hard to tell if they're legal to drink, much less "model") stand around a makeshift bar/stage-like structure and, well, that's all they really have to do. Come nightfall, the light blazes on so bright at times it's hard to tell a choker from an Adam's apple, and the trucks drive up begging for the cases. Marketing at its finest.

There's really only one reason to ever bother going to the Studio Bar & Grill: You're heading out to catch a show at one of the three rooms of the massive Palladium complex on South Lamar, and you didn't have the chance to grab a bite to eat before you had to run out the door. But, oh what a treat awaits you there: The Roadie. No, not the awkward, sweaty guy hoping to score some spillover groupie love from the headlining act at either Gilley's, The Loft or the Palladium Ballroom. No, this Roadie is probably the best dinner the $2.95 in your pocket could ever buy. Sure, it's pretty no-frills—just a quarter-pounder cheeseburger, served with fries—and you're not allowed to make any substitutions to the order, either. But, y'know, since you're getting a dirt-cheap and full meal less than 100 feet from where you'll be spending the rest of your night and all, you really can't complain. It's enough to make you forget about those pesky service up-charges on your ticket for the night. Well, OK, almost enough.

With so many folks in need these days, it may be somewhat ludicrous to rate which volunteer program does the best job of do-gooding. But that won't stop us from trying. Amachi Texas, headquartered in Dallas, is a statewide effort to prevent crime by breaking its cycle at the source. Research shows that the children of offenders have a 70 percent greater likelihood of becoming involved in the criminal justice system. This Big Brothers/Big Sisters offshoot provides mentors for the children of inmates, parolees and probationers—mentors who can be positive role models for their absent, emotionally unavailable or drug-addled parents. The Dallas Bar Association has made Amachi Texas its pet pro bono project for 2009, and lawyers are volunteering in droves to help out. Children matched with an Amachi mentor are 52 percent less likely to skip a day of school, 46 percent less likely to start using illegal drugs and 27 percent less likely to start drinking alcohol. And with the Dallas bar's influence, they also may be 78 percent more likely to become lawyers. (Kidding.)

He might take over your FM dial only once a week—and on Sunday nights, no less—but Mark Schectman deserves some serious praise for the way he's been running his Local Show on The Edge since taking over the hour-long slot earlier this year. Unlike some of his predecessors, Schectman actually seems to pay attention to the local scene, instead of just relying on the music that just-launched local acts toss the station's way. And his recent play lists have boasted songs from some of our favorites—like RTB2, Matthew and the Arrogant Sea, The Crash That Took Me, Dove Hunter and The Orbans, just to name a few. Secretly, we like to pretend that he's just mining our music section for his play lists each week, but that probably doesn't give Schectman enough credit for a job well done.

You won't find The Indie-Verse on your AM or FM dials. And only for a short period of time could you even find the station on your HD2 frequencies (assuming you're the only person in the world to actually have one of those receivers). But here's the trick about The Indie-Verse: You might only be able to listen to it by streaming the station on its Web site, but it's got the very best play list in town, playing everything from Pere Ubu to Memory Casette—or, basically, the kind of music that real music fans seek out. Even though it lost its spot on your HD dial, the folks at the local branch of CBS Radio are committed enough to the idea of the station that they're still funding the thing, even without a frequency. And with good reason: Aside from the great tunes, regular listeners are treated to an almost overwhelming amount of free tickets to some of the best shows in town. So do yourself a favor and listen. 'Cause, by doing that much, you just might force CBS to put the station back on a dial near you. And that'd be a favor for everyone.

Krys Boyd's the perfect interviewer: informed but not intrusive, objective with just a hint of opinionated. At a time when most talk radio shouts dumb-ass at you, she's the rational, calm, thoughtful voice of reason; she wants her guests to teach her something, not agree like a fast-food flunky. And she's just as likely to welcome a jazzer as she is an author as she is a foodie—hers is a wide-ranging menu from which we gladly pick and choose. And if we forget, well, there's always the podcast.

Sure, there's the live music room across the patio. That helps. But the Double Wide wins points because you don't have to hit the music room—or pay that room's separate cover charge—to enjoy a night of fine music and good friends. Regularly playing host to a couple of the region's finest niche DJs—DJ Slim, whose soul music selection is authentic enough to transport you to another era, and DJ Burlap, whose country tunes offer up a perfect soundtrack to the bar's white trash décor—the bar's recently added another fine offering for its crowd of local musicians and active fans. It hosts a rotating cast of local musicians and advocates as its Tuesday night DJs, ensuring that its insider crowd shows and enjoys a night among friends.

This rooftop patio is hands-down among the best in town. You can sit at the bar under the stars or grab a table at which to enjoy shots of tequila or margaritas accompanied by fajitas, nachos or fish tacos. The tequila selection is vast, from Cuervo on the bottom end to El Tesoro Paradiso and Don Julio in the mid-range and Patron Gran Platinum and Herradura Seleccion Suprema on the top shelf. There are dozens of cocktails to choose from, from the ginger martini to the cactus cosmo and a variety of mojitos. If what you're after is a margarita, the bar offers a wide variety. Whether you order the signature agave margarita made with Margaritaville Silver and Cointreau, the Don made with Don Julio or the Cazuela, made with Izze grapefruit soda, fresh oranges and Cazadores Reposado Tequila served in a clay bowl, you'll get a killer drink made from scratch with fresh-squeezed lime.

Colleges and universities always use the campus scenery to entice prospective students, but if you're looking into a Dallas County Community College, it's understandable if scenery falls far below practicality and affordability on your list of priorities. After all, El Centro and Eastfield are not much to look at. The Urban Wildlife Sanctuary at Mountain View College, however, is actually something to behold. A wooded, hilly area bisected by a creek softly gurgling along limestone banks, the northern boundary of Mountain View is one of the prettiest hidden gems in Dallas, perfect for a little early morning birding or a post-exam stroll.

Not many drives in Dallas can compare with the surreal scene that is Mountain Creek Parkway. Take the exit off Southbound Loop 12 and you'll come upon the desolate lakeshore that borders the Dallas-Fort Worth National Cemetery—you might see the occasional van full of misguided fishermen parked under the giant power lines overhead, but there's also plenty of empty space in case you've got a body in the trunk or something. Keep driving and you'll come across Dallas Baptist University, a brightly lit congregation of buildings that resembles that giant FLDS temple outside Eldorado, Texas—you know, the one that was all over Dr. Phil last year. Then, take a left and you'll find the Potter's House and the under-construction utopia of Capella Park. Or take a right and cross Dallas' only toll bridge into Grand Prairie. Either way, it will be interesting...and creepy.

This spot, located only eight minutes from downtown, used to be an illegal dump. The construction debris and rotting garbage caught fire and burned for a month in 1997. But millions of dollars and many years later, the city has turned the 120-acre site into a home for hundreds of bird species and critters. Spend a Saturday morning exploring the two and a half miles of trails through three different ecosystems—forest, grassland and wetland. Look out from a perch over a bend of the Trinity River. Or just relax and explore the site's $14 million green building with insulation made from recycled blue jeans. The building has been deemed the city's official gateway to the great Trinity River Forest, which at 6,000 acres is the largest urban hardwood forest in the United States. See how much you've learned already?

City Tavern is the Cheers of downtown. Everybody knows your name. That's because most patrons are downtown residents, especially on any given weekday. As the downtown population has grown from 200 to 6,000 residents in the last 15 years, the Tavern has been transformed by demand into the downtown community center. In May, a group of downtown residents threw their favorite barfly, a decades-long resident of the Manor building, a fund-raiser to help pay for her life-saving surgery. The next week she was back on her favored bar stool sipping a white Zinfandel. The heyday of the historic building housing the two-story bar was some 50 years ago, but the bar keeps that old-timey feel, with its high-backed booths, grainy mirrors and hardwood floors.

Don't book a hotel or buy airfare. Why waste money? Come spring, Dallas becomes another place entirely. For more than a week, you can escape, in your own city, into chilly theaters with tickets and badges as your boarding passes to a fantasy land, a nightmare, a place for romance, a realistic place in someone else's life—you call the shots. Thanks to Leiner Temerlin (founder, chairman emeritus) and Michael Cain (CEO, artistic director), for three years we Dallas film fanatics got to know the AFI Dallas International Film Festival and the joy of navigating a massive film schedule (attempting from one to seven screenings in a day), meeting high-profile celebrities (and likewise geeking out on character actors) and asking filmmakers direct questions about their creative process. It's been exhausting and exhilarating. Henceforth, Dallas will celebrate film with the Dallas International Film Festival as AFI Dallas is no longer, but this is exciting. As Cain told the Dallas Observer after the news broke in June, "This allows us to reinvest in Dallas...Each year we brought fewer and fewer people from out of state to work the festival, and we programmed 95 percent of the festival on our own. AFI gave us an amazing base of knowledge to lift ourselves up, [but] we're confident we can continue on our own."

So, you've finally given in. Maybe the peer pressure finally got to you. Or maybe you've resolved your issues with Mother and are looking to devote a patch of skin to honor her (or maybe you have really big mommy issues, so you're ready to have a death's head inked into your flesh). Now comes the hard part: finding an artist who can best translate your complicated emotional state into a long-lasting statement. Oliver Peck and his fellow inkers at Deep Ellum's Elm Street Tattoo are guaranteed to have just the image for you, whether your feelings for Mom are of the traditional red-heart variety or something darker. (Peck's winged hand-grenade design would work perfectly for us, but that's between us and our therapist.) From simpler ankle and forearm designs to elaborate shirt-sleeve and torso murals, Elm Street's artists will turn your skin into a window into what lies beneath. It's cheaper than therapy. Trust us.

Big things are happening this season for Uptown Players, the gay-centric company known for edgy musicals, body-baring dramas and drag comedies. For two shows in 2010—the drama Equus and the raucous musical Dirty Rotten Scoundrels—Uptown will take over the stage at the Kalita Humphreys Theater on Turtle Creek. This is an important step in the evolution of Uptown, which now boasts more than 12,000 patrons per season. Founders Jeff Rane and Craig Lynch have improved Uptown Players year after year, hiring better directors, designers and actors. The move to the main stage at the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed theater will make new demands on the troupe, but will also introduce Dallas' most ambitious company of artists to a wider audience.

Every spring brings another three-week onslaught of new plays, one-person shows, music, dance and other entertainments to the theater complex under the water tower in Addison. Performers fill the three acting spaces and sometimes spill out into the lobby for bursts of song and comedy. This year's biggest draw was the One Man Star Wars—all the movies, all the characters in just more than an hour—performed to sell-out family crowds by Canadian actor Charlie Ross. Unusual acts like that make Out of the Loop a fresh, fun celebration of non-traditional stage performances.

When people come to Dallas, they usually go to a strip club, see where JFK was shot, eat atop Reunion Tower or visit a sports venue (two of which are 20 miles away in Arlington). Some choose more than one, and others may add Deep Ellum or White Rock Lake to their lists, but those leaving town without a stay in the Arts District are missing the best of what the city has to offer. With the Dallas Museum of Art, the Nasher Sculpture Center, the Trammell and Margaret Crow Collection of Asian Art, the Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center, the Dallas Center for the Performing Arts opening October 12 and the Woodall Rodgers Park on its way, Dallas has quickly established itself among the art hotspots in the county, and it's also making noise worldwide.

She sure doesn't look like a dean, but with Tracy Rowlett now out of the local television news business, Clarice Tinsley, who started at Channel 4 in 1978, is now the longest-running news anchor in the market. She was 24 years old when she took the job. During her tenure Tinsley has done lots of solid journalistic work, including a series she co-wrote with investigative reporter Fred Mays in 1984 called, "A Call for Help." Larry Boff, a Dallas man, had called 911 three times begging for help for his dying stepmother. Twice 911 personnel argued with him and hung up. When an ambulance finally got there, his mother was dead. By the time Tinsley and Mays were done with the story, people were fired and major reforms instituted. The series won a Peabody Award. Tinsley's solid reporting experience and familiarity with the city are all there when she reports the news every afternoon at 5 p.m. and evening at 10 p.m. It doesn't get any better than Clarice.

On the one hand, maybe it's not fair to pit Good Day against the full-bore 5 and 10 p.m. newscasts. On the other hand, half the world thinks Jon Stewart's Daily Show is a newscast, so what are the rules anymore anyway? Good Day is a blend of local street reporting, weather, headlines and talk, delivered in a zeitgeist somewhere between morning drive, Letterman and AC 360. The departure last winter of co-host Megan Henderson, who was witty and easy on the eyes, hurt us a bit, but the real backbone continues to be host Tim Ryan. Perhaps the best description of Ryan is in the station's promo piece: "He's had the same coffee mug for 12 years...doesn't Twitter...his MySpace is wherever he's standing. He's the crankiest anchor on TV, and more North Texans wake up to him than anyone else." Good Day's ratings regularly beat the national morning shows it's up against. It survives by telling an audience of people who have to get up at 5 in the morning what they need to know for the day and then getting them to laugh on their way out the door. No easy trick.

It's tough to say who's behind this Twitter account that hates on all things little d, calling out people by name and doing so without remorse. And, actually, it can get pretty harsh at times. Like when a certain musician got called out for looking like "one of Prince's illegitimate children" and for having a questionable fashion sense. Or when another musician got called out as being ugly. Or when DJs get called out for not being able to mix well, despite computers. Or when the account called out the people who run a house venue in the college town, calling them "dumb bitches." OK, so WhyDentonSucks is pretty harsh all the time. But it's also a pretty fascinating look at the at-times petty inner workings of a close-knit musical hotbed, serving as proof that, despite all the praise the town earns in even the national media, it's just as insecure and fucked up as the rest of us. Oh, and, well, the rest of us aren't exactly out of range either. In only the seventh tweet ever sent by the account, WhyDentonSucks took aim at Dallas, proclaiming that the reason Denton sucks is "because Dallas is only 38 miles away." Thank goodness for the rest of us, then, that it feels so much farther than that.

Art shouldn't be scary. Even if a person hasn't been creative since preschool finger-painting, making art (granted, not necessarily good art) can be as easy as making a beautiful piece of paper or printing a simple design. The owners and proprietors of The Center for Art Conservation, Shannon Driscoll Phillips and Tish Brewer, want to share the joy of creation, one fun workshop at a time. Through their Paper Works by Paper Nerds series, the paper conservators and paper artists aim to "promote the exploration of paper art and craft" through hands-on lessons on cyanotypes, fold books, long-stitch binding, collage, paper ornaments, paste paper and marbling, silk-screen printing and more. Prices range from $30 to $95 for a four-hour class, and the proof that anyone can be an artist is in the pretty paper.

In Second Thought Theatre's Lobby Hero, his second professional Dallas theater role, Drew Wall, 24, wowed audiences and critics as a slouchy doorman. With a thick Irish brogue, he was disturbingly twitchy in A Skull in Connemara. Then he turned in a fine performance as a sweet, confused rich kid in Upstart Productions' staging of Kenneth Lonergan's This Is Our Youth. Now one of the second generation of producers of Second Thought, Wall, a Baylor grad who grew up in The Colony, is maturing into a more interesting actor in every role he plays. "I play angry young men a lot," he says, "guys that are down on their luck but still kind of charming." Never so charming as Drew Wall.

This graduate of Wylie High School and UT-Arlington ('08) burst onto the Dallas theater scene this year in Echo Theatre's remarkable production of The Nibroc Trilogy. Justiss starred opposite Ian Sinclair in the three plays: Last Train to Nibroc, See Rock City and Gulf View Drive. "When I was cast, I knew we were going to do all three plays, but I didn't realize that we were going to do them all within three weeks," the red-haired actress says. "Then I calmed down and said to myself, 'OK, this is good, get yourself pumped.'" She followed up with a turn as a waitress near the gas pumps of Ellsworth Schave's new play, Under a Texaco Canopy, at the Festival of Independent Theatres. We look forward to more shows that stretch this tall actress' talent in new directions.

Web extra: Founder and producer Tim Shane leads a video tour of the no-frills Dallas Hub Theater.

Dallas Theater Center can spend $400,000 to mount a single production. Contemporary Theatre of Dallas spends up to $40,000.

Budget for a really big show at Dallas Hub Theater? $40.

"In most cases, we're actually at zero for the budget," Hub founder and producer Tim Shane says. "New directors will come here and say, 'We need this kind of paint,' and I'll go, 'Do we really need to spend that 15 dollars?'"

The Hub, a two-stage, 100-seat space on Canton Street in Deep Ellum, puts on 25 productions a year and rents its stages for 25 other low-budget shows by fledgling companies such as Level Ground Arts or Upstart Productions. Most major Dallas theaters schedule only six to 10 productions a season. The Hub keeps humming nearly year-round with main-stage shows, late-night comedies, dinner theater parties and the annual Dallas Fringe Festival. Shane recently launched Cyber Fest, an online new play showcase that had playwrights around the globe beaming in readings of their scripts via Skype.

Almost everything the Hub does, it does on the fly. Shane doesn't sell season tickets because he's never sure month to month what shows he'll be able to afford to produce. He routinely recycles scenery and has no shame about begging Theatre Three or the SMU drama department to loan out or donate used costumes. The Hub's actors, some of them high school and college students, work for a small cut of the box office take, typically topping out at about $75 apiece for an entire three-week run. And unlike other theaters, The Hub doesn't allow actors to comp in friends and family for performances. Everybody buys a ticket. This is a no-frills, low-thrills theater that recently turned to Shakespeare (in abbreviated versions) because the scripts come royalty-free and bookings by school groups help fill the coffers.

"We're using the same set for Romeo and Juliet and Othello," Shane says. "Whenever we build something, we try to think of two or three more shows we can use it for."

A Chicago-born former academic, Shane recently took a corporate day job but he spends every night and weekend at his theater. He earns no salary from The Hub, which he opened in 2005 after producin

g low-budget shows in other spaces. "From a business point of view, The Hub doesn't make any sense," he says. "It is a money pit. But I always wanted to be an artistic director, to have full creative control of a theater. I feel like I'm building toward something."

Shane says his inspiration for The Hub came from the book Sam Mendes at the Donmar: Stepping Into Freedom, which chronicles director Mendes' creation of London's now-legendary Donmar Warehouse. Mendes, best known as a filmmaker (American Beauty) and as husband of actress Kate Winslet, walked by a boarded-up building in 1990 and decided it would make a great venue for independent, experimental theater productions. Mendes ran it as artistic director for 10 years, launching new works by Tom Stoppard and other major playwrights and sending numerous shows, including Frost/Nixon and an acclaimed revival of Guys and Dolls, to award-winning runs in London's West End and on Broadway.

So far, The Hub can claim only modest success as an incubator of new talent, mostly by helping to boost other theaters' interest in exciting young Dallas actors. Jeff Swearingen has played a variety of roles in Hub shows, including the lead in Hamlet and the part of Maverick in Top Gun: The Musical. This summer Swearingen starred at the New York International Fringe Fest in The Boxer, a show that started in Dallas, though not at The Hub.

"I do hope The Hub has its day in the sun someday," Swearingen says. "The place has courage and spunk to be holding on this long. If someone truly cares about the Dallas theater scene, institutions like this can't be left to die. I have a lot of admiration for all of the artists who experienced growing pains with The Hub."

Shane says his dream is for his theater to evolve into the Second City of the Southwest. Second City is the Chicago proving ground for comic actors and comedy writers. Among its hundreds of successful showbiz alumni are Tina Fey, Steve Carell and Stephen Colbert.

"Dallas needs a place for artists to develop their craft before they're discovered," Shane says. "That happens in fringe spaces like ours."

First-time playwrights are welcomed at The Hub as long as they're willing to forgo royalties to get scripts on their feet. Writer Charlotte Miller premiered her drama Traumnovela there and then took it to New York and Barcelona."

We can take risks on new shows that theaters that have large budgets can't," Shane says. "We can try and fail miserably and be able to bounce back. The inverse of that is if too many things are failing at the same time here, we're in trouble."

Over the summer, Shane battled a balky air-conditioning system (he finally got one donated). There have been plumbing problems, and during the production of Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune, the building reeked. The source of the odor turned out to be a plate of barbecue someone had wrapped in a towel and left to molder in the hot prop room for a couple of months. "We now have rules in our contracts about cleaning up backstage," Shane says.

Aesthetics are never a high priority at The Hub, whose dreary ambience local critics have compared to an abandoned coal mine and a serial killer's crawlspace. Shane doesn't take offense. "Everything in this theater is a piece of another theater that they were throwing out," he says. The larger stage is from Pocket Sandwich Theatre. There are bits of the defunct Pegasus Theatre in The Hub. The seats came from an old vaudeville house in Virginia, whose owner offered them to Shane for free. Shane made the drive with a rickety trailer, unbolted each seat himself and drove them back to Dallas through blizzard conditions.

The Hub keeps expenses low because its overhead is high: $12,000 a month rent on the 11,000-square-foot building. That's a good deal as Deep Ellum real estate goes, but a lot for a theater getting by on $15 and $20 tickets. "Month by month it's a miracle that we make it," Shane says. "I'm always a nervous wreck, but something always happens to get us where we need to be."

On his wish list: insulation, more a/c and stage lights that don't suck so much power. "On certain light cues, we have to turn the air-conditioning off," he says.

He may be the Rodney Dangerfield of Dallas theater producers, but Tim Shane is determined to make The Hub a theater worthy of respect. Right now, though, he's got roof leaks to patch and rat traps to check. "I always said I wanted to be an artistic director," he says with a heavy sigh. "But now I'm a plumber and a maintenance man most of the time. You can't have an ego at all in this place. I like to say I'm the chief executive artistic producer- abbreviated, that spells out CHEAP." Elaine Liner

Web extra: Video of DJ Drop at a Definition DJs meet-up.

Before a team on MTV's America's Best Dance Crew tackled B-Hamp's "Do the Ricky Bobby," before Shaq and Lebron performed their best takes on the GS Boyz' "Stanky Legg" at the 2009 NBA All-Star Game, and even before The New York Times reviewed the debut release from Dorrough and announced that the national hip-hop party has "landed in Dallas," there was a meeting.

And it was at such a meeting—or rather at a series of such meetings—where DJ Drop, along with the 30 other DJs who work for his Dallas-based Definition DJs collective, essentially launched the craze for what would eventually become the defining national hip-hop trend of 2009: This, you see, was the year that Dallas finally made good on its potential to become the next big hip-hop hub of the South.

And Dallas did so, well, because of Drop, to a degree. And because, oh yeah, of those meetings.

See, it's at these meeting where Drop and his fellow DJs, with their nightly bird's-eye-view of area dance floors, discuss the trends they see, the changes in tastes that they're noticing among the crowds, comparing notes on crowd reactions and sharing observations on the latest up-and-coming dance moves. It's at these meetings where the Definition DJs carefully listen to and dissect as many new artists' songs as they can. 'Cause here's the thing: It's at these meetings—little-known outside the innermost circles of the hip-hop community till, well, right now—where DJ Drop, weeks in advance, starts putting into motion the process that, weeks later, finds Dallas-area talents popping up on the national radar, looking like fresh-faced overnight success stories.

It's a more dedicated—and complicated—process than the cause would seem to merit. But, of course, there's a reason for all this rhyming.

"We talked about the 'Stanky Legg,'" Drop says while readying his staff for yet another one of these meetings, held somewhat inconspicuously at the Ice Barr on Commerce Street downtown. "Before it blew up, we were speaking on that record. Two weeks later, it was on the radio."

That's not just a coincidence either, ensures the 33-year-old Drop, born Charles Robinson. It's all part of what's become the pretty standard practice for aspiring hip-hop artists in the region: Cut a record, then go get feedback from Drop and his Definition crew. If they like it, they'll try it out in the nightclubs (the smaller ones first) and see how the crowds respond. If the crowds respond well, the tracks get placed into rotation at the bigger clubs. And, if the bigger clubs respond well, that's when radio comes knocking.

Translation: If you wanna be the next Dorrough—who, for better or worse, with his smash hit "Ice Cream Paint Job," has become the face of the Dallas hip-hop scene—you wanna be in with Drop.

It's simple: "If we [approve of] a record," Drop says, "we put it into power-drive."Putting a song into "power-drive," is simple enough too: If a song's got the potential to be a smash, Drop's DJs—the entire collective—will relentlessly play a record that gets a good club reaction. Radio jocks then, picking up on those trends and wanting to keep up with the songs the audiences are eating up on area dance floors, start to do the same over the airwaves.

"Dallas DJs are just standing up for Dallas music," Drop says, matter of factly. "The songs can be popular, but if we don't co-sign it, it won't blow up."

If Drop's boast sounds a little conceited, well, maybe it is. But KBFB-97.9 FM The Beat program director John Candelaria puts it all in perspective: When his station runs its weekly tests on its listener demographics, results show local artists scoring as highly as national mainstays like Kanye West and Jay-Z. And the radio jocks and fans alike are first learning about these artists and their new songs in the same fashion—through the clubs.

And there have been plenty of new artists popping up in the past calendar year: Aside from mainstays such as Tum Tum, Big Tuck and Play-N-Skillz, we have recently seen the rise of newer artists such as Lil Wil, Fat Pimp, Fat B, Trai D, Big Hoodboss, Paper Chaserz—and plenty more.

"With all those guys," Drop says, "we were a major part of breaking those artists."Given the process behind breaking them, it's easy to see why. Kind of turns the whole thing into a science, really.

"It's been great," Drop says. "Dallas is getting its due, but there's a lot more to come. The only thing people have seen is the dance and club music. Thing is, we're still in the first phase of it all. Wait till people hear everything else that's about to come out. This is just the start.

"If anyone would know for sure, it's him. Y'know, 'cause of the process.And those darn meetings.

Once again, Mama's Party gets the big ovation as the most consistently entertaining musical theater showcase. The spotlight here is on the big belters, singers who not only hit the back row with a note but send it soaring out the back door and into the next county. Now in a new venue, the big stage at Contemporary Theatre of Dallas, the weekly talent show hosted by "Mama" Amy Stevenson (a fine belter herself) or one of her buddies invites local cabaret singers, musical theater performers and others to shout-sing show tunes for a couple of hours. Over the summer, the stars of Broadway touring companies of A Chorus Line, Legally Blonde The Musical and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang dropped by to show off their belting abilities. Most nights, the take at the door (there's a $5 cover) goes to a charity such as Broadway Cares/Equity Fights AIDS. Contemporary's full bar adds to the speakeasy atmosphere. And if it's too crowded to get in? Stand on the sidewalk. You'll hear every voice.

You can't help falling in love with Domingo "The Best Voice of Elvis." He's alarmingly captivating. He's incredibly friendly (he wants to be your Facebook friend). He's an accomplished Elvis impersonator. Honestly, that term seems derogatory—Domingo may perform the works of Elvis in the style of Elvis, but he is his own man, after all. Domingo has claimed rank in the top five world finalists in Tupelo, Mississippi's Best of Elvis Competition. He performs at least four nights a week in various local restaurants, but his La Parillada performances are close to legendary, and it's not the chips and salsa talking. Scarf a-flutter and hand gripping microphone, Domingo will serenade your soul. And because he is the best Latino Elvis we know, who loves his fans of all ages, we'll keep fingers crossed he avoids a toilet-related fatality, though the hope for a duet with an Ann-Margret impersonator remains strong.

This exquisite collection of modern and ancient paintings, carvings and artifacts from China, Japan, India and Southeast Asia is the perfect weekday or weekend activity. The two-story gallery is free to enter and loaded with ways to occupy your time. A recent exhibition of Japanese snuff bottles from the late 19th century captivated us while we examined each bottle's intricate handwork. The space is small but nonetheless carefully organized and packed with treasures and is always a relaxing experience.

The aptly named Upstart Productions debuted last season with a blazing staging of Suzan-Lori Parks' Topdog/Underdog and followed with a gripping look at post-adolescent angst with Kenneth Lonergan's This Is Our Youth. This season, producer Josh Glover and crew will dedicate themselves to the plays of Eric Bogosian. First, Talk Radio (October 28-November 22), directed by Regan Adair. Then they'll recreate a 7-Eleven inside the Green Zone theater for subUrbia, Bogosian's gritty take on aimless youth. Upstart's mission is "to usher in the next generation of theater artists." After an impressive first year on the Dallas scene, they seem well on their way.

Om...Om...Om...Cosmic Cafe has successfully created a spiritually inspired oasis in a land of concrete and strip malls. From the moment you turn off Oak Lawn and into the driveway of the restaurant, you notice your surroundings have changed. Everywhere you look you see relics of Eastern spirituality: Hindu gods; Buddhas; fountains; and vivid colors of blue, pink and yellow. The music is subtle with the sounds of distant chants and chimes moving through each tune. After enjoying a vegetarian lunch from the chakra-inspired menu, sneak upstairs to one of the three meditation rooms. Catch the sound of the wind chimes and drift off for a few minutes before heading back to the office. You will feel recharged.

What formerly felt like a tomb—Theater Too! beneath the venerable Theatre Three—has lately become Dallas' best underground (literally) theater. Last season, audiences filled the tiny space for the two-man musical The Big Bang and Bruce R. Coleman's new play, Look What's Happened to Pixie DeCosta. Year after year, tickets fly for the return of I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change, which this year had its best cast ever. At $20,000 over last year's box office take for Theatre Too!, the uptick in ticket sales is continuing with the season opener of Six Dance Lessons in Six Weeks, followed by the intimate musical Another Night Before Christmas, then the drama Bill W. and Dr. Bob about the founding of Alcoholics Anonymous. Director-producer Terry Dobson has done a bang-up job overseeing the makeover of Theatre Too!, which finally deserves that exclamation point.

This is one of the few places in town that's so naughtily diverse. There's always a decent array of fauna, but between the hours of midnight and 5 a.m. it runs the gamut from strippers unwinding after a shift and pimps with hookers in tow to hot cops, students in the midst of finals, megageeks glued to their computers, Harley dudes on a road trip and punks rocking Mohawks and ominous tattoos. A bit like the bar in Star Wars, all of these wildly different animals seem to co-exist in relative harmony except for the occasional explosive conflict. But if things do get dicey late-night, by 6 a.m. calm returns when the M-Street exercise crowd arrives in search of some java and post-workout breakfast.

Even if you've heard of monk parakeets—the accidentally introduced, bright green parrots known to nest in several American cities—it's still eye-opening when a flock of them flies clumsily over the jogging trail at White Rock Lake, loudly squawking all the way. The curious can find their giant communal nests hidden on the towers of a power station just across the road from the White Rock Pump Station. Watching them through a pair of binoculars as they comically cavort among the transformers and wires is one of the more surreal sights in Dallas, to say the least—it's a must-see for local nature lovers.

Just keeping kids alive until their 18th birthdays is expensive enough. You shouldn't have to break open their piggy banks to give them the occasional cultural experience. The Dallas Theater Center apparently understands this and offers Pay What You Can nights for select Sunday night preview shows. Drop a not-unreasonable $5 a head with a family of four and you'll get your entire clan in for less than a single ticket might otherwise cost. Or donate nothing, if your conscience lets you. With 2009-2010 productions including It's a Bird...It's a Plane...It's Superman, A Midsummer Night's Dream and, of course, the annual performance of A Christmas Carol (which will be presented for the final time in the Kalita Humphreys Theater), there are plenty of opportunities to get them away from the television and let you check out the innovative new Wyly Theatre.

They're gonna tear our playhouses down come late December, which still gives you plenty of time to see what they planted in the ground for Dallas Blooms back in March—16 architectural treats reflecting the wonder and wisdom contained in kiddie-book classics. Swings and slides are nice and all, but you're young'un hasn't lived (or learned) till he or she hops into the pages of The Lorax, James and the Giant Peach, Thumbelina, Peter Pan or the other classics on (enormous) display at the Arboretum, which actually lets the little ones run wild in the abodes designed by locals who clearly love these tomes as much as the children, who, in our experience, want nothing more than to rush home and read about the places they've just visited. One can only hope they fall into foreclosure and become available at the nice price; we've just the spot in the backyard...no, wait, front yard.