It's our annual fave, and the other local comics shops should not take offense; when you've experienced the prosecutorial hell Keith's Comics has been through of late ("Comic Appeal," August 14), you deserve at least honorable mention and then some. But Jeremy Shorr's place on Bachman Lake, twixt a dollar store and a karate classroom, rings up this annual accolade because it's a pure comics shop--back issues that go way back to the Golden Age take up most of the space, ringed by walls of new stuff from the majors (DC and Marvel) and the minors and dang near every indie this side of Hoboken. Shorr, aided by a knowledgeable and friendly staff, has also taken to carrying an estimable library of comic-book histories, in addition to boxes full of old mags about comics; it's a history lesson in here, as well as a sneak peek at the bright future of a once-accursed medium that now provides the movies with endless source material.

Addison? Theater mecca? Whodathunk that a few years ago? Then along came an Alabama grad named Terry Martin, determined to turn a small but well-loved community theater company into a major force in Dallas-area arts. He's done that by consistently raising the bar in the choices of plays, casting the best-trained professional actors and overseeing the redesign of the interior of the WaterTower space in a compelling way for every new production. As a director, Martin, 45, recently reinterpreted Cat on a Hot Tin Roof as a battle royal between nouveau riche Southern social climbers, with the usually cantankerous Big Daddy (perfectly cast with actor R Bruce Elliott) almost welcoming the "outing" of gay son Brick as a way of reclaiming their relationship. Martin has spent 10 years at WaterTower. Only problem with all the directing is it leaves him little time to get onstage himself. His performance in Neil LaBute's Bash during the WaterTower's spring "Out of the Loop" festival was one of the best by an actor on any Dallas stage this year.

Since 9-11, most right-thinking Amurkins have had lumps in their throats when it comes to the sacrifices made by dutiful police and firefighters. But the throat bone doesn't connect to the wallet bone, and sentimentality will only get you so far (not very) when you ask Dallas taxpayers for a 17 percent raise, especially when times are hard for everyone's budget, particularly the city's. What were Dallas' police and firefighters thinking, putting this issue on the ballot now? Oh, that's right; they thought all that "honoring our heroes in blue" stuff was sincere. Suckers.

How does this college theater do it? Using student actors and non-pros cast from open auditions, Quad C consistently offers professional-level productions that outshine Equity-heavy downtown stages. In three acting spaces, including the 350-seat John Anthony Theatre, Quad C produces enormous, spectacularly designed shows. Last fall's elegant and disturbing A Clockwork Orange featured a huge cast of promising young actors, particularly Plano native Brian J. Smith, now off to complete his acting studies at Juilliard. Quad C's dynamic artistic director, Brad Baker, has earned a national rep as a teacher, director and writer (he penned the Clockwork script). For the donation of a new stuffed animal (gathered at the box office for a local charity), tickets to most Quad C shows are free. Quad C's new season starts out with a bang October 2 with Assassins, the controversial Stephen Sondheim musical. Also on the season lineup are a trilogy of Horton Foote plays and a production of Neil Labute's latest, The Shape of Things.@choice:Contemporary Theatre of Dallas - 5601 Sears St. 214-828-0094

Barnett graces After Dark on Cedar Springs with her vocal gifts and presence on Saturday and Sunday nights. Her loyal fans are much happier for it. This powerhouse knows when to belt out a song and when to keep her voice soft and whispery. She's at her best when warbling jazzy, upbeat tunes. Somehow you can't help but feel lighter on this planet when you listen to her sing. Check out her happy, breezy version of "Pennies from Heaven" to see what we mean.

Look at the wildly diverse work versatile director Rene Moreno has helmed for local theaters recently: the romantic two-character musical The Last Five Years at Plano Rep, the raucous comedy Buford Gomez: Tales of a Rightwing Border Patrol Officer for Martice Productions in the basement of the Majestic, Michael Frayn's difficult drama Copenhagen at Theatre Three, the abstract Crave for the Festival of Independent Theaters and the warm Southern comedy The Exact Center of the Universe at Fort Worth's Circle Theatre. He also managed to fit in some acting with an intense performance in Harold Pinter's Old Times at the Bath House Cultural Center. This SMU MFA grad also directs for Milwaukee Rep, and he's worked at the Guthrie Lab in Minneapolis and the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. Actors say they trust Moreno's directing because he casts his plays wisely and doesn't mess around with a good script. Directors too often get the blame when a production is panned and don't snag much credit when it's a hit. Moreno is the secret behind much of Dallas' best theater. Up next for Moreno: Love's Fire at SMU's Margo Jones Theatre scheduled for October 23 through November 2.

We'll admit it: We wish we had that damned story, not Wick Allison's Park Cities Greensheet. So, when D ran that cover with Hicks, or a Photoshopped Tommy, flashing empty pockets, we pretended it was so much tabloid hogwash, Allison's way of proving to his moneyed pals he couldn't be bought by this town's richest fellers. Turns out that story was dead on the money, no matter how hard Hicks tries to deny it; after all, if he really wanted to stick with a winner, he would have held onto his Dallas Stars, our most recent champs in any major sporting league. Instead, he's selling off his NHL team (worth about $200 mil) and his stake in the American Airlines Center (estimated value: $400 mil). Why he's dumping the AAC is beyond us; yeah, we hate the place, but it's gotta be the rich man's ATM, unlike the Arlington-owned Ballpark, which will soon enough start to look like it smells. (Ya know, now that we think about it, that place always was a hokey hodgepodge.) Maybe Hicks just couldn't get over his man crush on Mike Modano, who's gone from underrated to overrated in three seasons' time; maybe he just likes the drive to Arlington. Or maybe he's got a thing for guys in tight pants who grab their crotches and spit. Dunno. All we know is this Texas Ex is dumping the one team he owns that's respectable in order to keep the one that's reprehensible. Does that make any damned sense, or cents, to you?

Playing a charming psychopath, a frat boy, a wild-haired anarchist or a suave sophisticate, Regan Adair, 29, manages to bring to every role he plays a relaxed authenticity that makes his performances fascinating to watch. Trained as a fashion designer, Adair turned to acting four years ago and over the past few months has popped up in productions at half a dozen area theaters. He's onstage now at Dallas Theater Center playing Rosencrantz in Hamlet, one of the few local actors director Richard Hamburger personally has recruited for a role (DTC casts mostly out of NYC). It was Adair's riveting performance in Crave at the recent Festival of Independent Theaters that caught Hamburger's (and the critics') attention. One local director describes Adair as "a character actor trapped in an ingenue body." That's a nice way of saying he's immensely talented and really cute.

Judging by how often he's cast in local productions, Bill Jenkins appears to be a director's darling. In the three leading roles he's had at three theaters here this year, he's proven versatile, likable and dependable as a performer, expertly tackling a wide range of accents and acting styles. For Addison's WaterTower Theatre, he roared as the ghost of John Barrymore in the high-spirited I Hate Hamlet. At Theatre Three (where he was voted "Patrons' Favorite") he raised the roof as an ambitious young Baptist minister in God's Man in Texas. For Theatre Britain at the Trinity River Arts Center, he oozed cockney charm as The Mysterious Mr. Love. He's also performed major comedic and dramatic roles at Kitchen Dog, Stage West, Casa Mañana and Circle Theatre. Watching Jenkins onstage is a lesson in acting technique. His diction is crisp, his physicality well-tuned. His handsome face, with its deeply dimpled smile, can shift from utterly beguiling one moment to dangerously brooding the next. There's something old-fashioned about Jenkins' approach to stage work. He doesn't just say the words and strike the poses; he inhabits the characters and disappears into the roles. When his name is in the program, you know you're in for something good. Applause, applause.

Blessed with a singing voice so powerful it shows up on Doppler radar, Denise Lee, 43, proved this year that she's also one of the area's best serious dramatic actresses. In WaterTower Theatre's production of The Old Settler, John Henry Redwood's lovely play about spinster sisters in 1940s Harlem, Lee didn't sing a note. Instead, she wore dowdy dresses and no makeup and gave a quietly moving performance highlighted by some white-hot chemistry with handsome co-star Kes Kehmnu. Lee also was a knockout in Uptown Players' musical The Last Session. Known for her showstopping way with musical comedy (she's a repeat star of WaterTower's annual Rockin' Christmas Party), Lee does her cabaret thing most Friday nights at Bill's Hideaway (4144 Buena Vista). And if there's a production of Once on This Island in the works, she's probably in the cast. "I love that show," says Lee, "but it would be nice to be called in more often for roles that aren't designated 'minority.'" Look for Lee this fall on television in the role of captured American soldier Shoshanna Johnson in the NBC teleflick Saving Jessica Lynch.