That learning can be fun is a good idea in theory, but it doesn't hold up when juxtaposed against a compulsory public school education. And there is something about the concept of an educational toy that seems less playful than a toy ought to be. But Learning Express does its best to dispel these notions, offering a wide array of toys that promote knowledge and still offer kids a rollicking good time. Whether it's the Math Shark or the Geosafari Laptop or a Wrist Rox Bracelet Kit, there is something for every age, gender and interest at Learning Express. Friendly, knowledgeable service cuts against its chain-store origins and that overwhelming feeling you get from a Toys R Us. If you are late for a birthday party and need something fast, not only can you find it here, but Learning Express will gift wrap it as well. That's why the place is a boon to those of us who are poorly organized and might not have been, if we would have only played with more educational toys in the first place.

Howard Garrett, the plain-talking organic-gardening "Dirt Doctor" of North Texas, is going to tell you something about the nature of this sun-blistered, snake-bit, bad-dirt region that you're just not going to believe. You might be a damn hippie liberal communist or a knuckle-dragging throwback right-wing nutcase: You're still not going to get your mind around Garrett's message when he tells you Dallas is the biggest organic-gardening retail market in America.

"There's about 700 retail stores in this area that sell a full line of organic products for gardeners," Garrett says. Of those, he says, "at least 10 percent are 100 percent organic," meaning they sell no non-organic products.

"That's huge, because you cannot go to California or Colorado or Vermont and find a single one that's totally organic, that sells a full line of organic products and promotes its use.

"It surprises people that that's the case."

Yeah, it does. A lot. And, of course, we have to factor Garrett himself into this formula: A tireless promoter of organics, not to mention himself, an author, newspaper columnist, radio and TV personality, Garrett also mentions himself as a big reason the organic thing has happened here on such a large scale. He says his show, The Dirt Doctor, on WBAP-820 AM has been a major factor in spreading the word.

"I went on air in 1989, and I said Neil Sperry doesn't know what he's talking about, and I'm going to teach you a whole new way to live," Garrett says modestly. "I took the message to people."

The reference is to Neil Sperry of KRLD Radio, whose Texas Gardening Show has been a mainstay of KRLD Radio 1080 for decades. Every installment of Sperry's show is the aural equivalent of a major chemical spill, urging people to do everything short of spoon Diazinon on their Wheaties in the morning--exactly the kind of pro-hydrocarbon 'tude most of us would expect to find here in the heart of Bush/Cheney.

Garrett's claims for this region as the buckle on the Organic Bible Belt are a little hard to pin down, because the numbers on organic-gardening retail commerce are not readily available from the government agencies one might think responsible. But he makes a useful challenge: "Go to Google and start looking up organic-gardening retail centers under different cities," he says.

Hmm. After way too much time noodling Google for this data, one must conclude that Garrett has his hands on at least a piece of something very interesting. Even if his thesis can't be proved conclusively, the Google test does provide an intriguing and very counterintuitive window on this region: Dallas is one heck of an organic-gardening market. Dallas does seem to outstrip all of the other cities and regions a not hugely sophisticated researcher was able to think of before getting bored.

So if this comes as counterintuitive news for Dallas, what would be intuitive? How would one assume most Dallasites would approach husbandry of the soil? Well, first, obviously, you hire an illegal immigrant. You give him a shovel, some instructions in Spanglish and a great big old squirt jug of Roundup. You get yourself well inside the picture window where you can watch him with the AC cranked up, a Cowboys game on television and a six-pack of cold ones in a Styrofoam cooler on the coffee table. You get your loved one in there with you on the sofa. And you sit back and enjoy nature.

Garrett doesn't exactly argue with any of that. He says organic gardening works here because it's compatible with the culture instead of requiring a religious conversion. If anything, his explanation for the popularity of organics here is that he himself has promoted it entirely apart from and without reference to its hippie-dippie ex-post-'60s roots.

Garrett says the best examples of the kind of organic approach people go for here are found not in your typical East Dallas herb garden but at the big corporate campuses in Plano, Southlake and environs of Fort Worth. Garrett, who is also a landscape contractor, manages several corporate headquarters in this area on totally organic regimens--no chemicals, not no-how, not never.

"Frito-Lay has been 100 percent organic under my program for 15 years. That's a big deal. It's a national headquarters of 300 acres. They know in relative terms that economically it's working for them and that if they went back to chemicals, it would cost them at least as much and probably more."

Based on that and other examples, Garrett preaches through his various media forums that organic gardening costs less or the same as chemical gardening and gets you a better garden. And there's no reason why you can't hire the illegal and get up on the sofa with the cold ones and the loved one, etc. Just, instead of Roundup, you give the guy outside a big old bottle of vinegar and tell him in Spanglish to pour it "on el weedos."

Who knew? We're a lot cooler here than people think.

If you're an organic gardener, Texas-style, a trip to Cedar Hill will be time well spent. Looking for that perfect Abelmoschus moschatus (silk flower) or Rudeckia Herbstsonne (with giant lush leaves like you won't believe)? This is the place. And, if it's a backyard water garden or pond you're wanting to fill with plants, the folks here will tell you whether their lilies or Horsetail or maybe even a little Cork Screw Rush is what you need. They've also got the basics, from cedar mulch to herbs and helpful landscape designing. Even gardening guru Howard Garrett sings this place's praises.

While the rest of the world seems to love soccer almost to the point of obsession, we doubt that many people in Dallas would be able to identify the name Pelé or tell you when to catch the next World Cup. (And if we valued our status as Texans, we wouldn't dare say that we stayed up till wee hours to watch World Cup games but fell asleep during the Super Bowl.) So, for all you soccer subversives out there, Soccer Corner is a "football" mecca. They have all sorts of equipment for actual players--balls, clothing, protective gear--plus T-shirts and hats for those of us who couldn't make a goal if our life depended on it. If nothing else, being a soccer fan will add a little European flair to your life--especially if you buy the "Soccer Players Do It For 90 Minutes" bumper sticker.

If you've got Scottish blood and find yourself in dire need of the lowland "tuxedo" of your native land, all you need to do is call Barbara and Charlene McGowan and schedule a visit to their in-home shop in Arlington. Their kilts, commissioned from a kilt-maker in Scotland, are the real deal and come with all the accessories--the sporran (leather purse) and the sgian dhu (the small dagger traditionally worn in the sock). The entire outfit can run as high as $1,000, but who's counting? In business since '91, the McGowans annually hold a July 1 bash to commemorate Scotland's repeal of the ban against kilts back in 1782, serving up food from the homeland and a contest to determine which kilt-wearer has shown up with the best knees.

Even the chain grocery stores are stocking Boca burgers, Gardenburgers and other fake meat now. But those who want the good stuff--the filet mignon and caviar of the vegetarian world, if you will--can find the largest selection at the Veggie Garden restaurant stacked in freezer cases at the back of the dining room by the buffet. There's Tuno (the fake tuna that tastes like the real deal when mixed with Veganaise, the fake mayo, for Tuno salad sandwiches) and little chicken wings made from soy, with small wooden rods serving as bones. Trust us; they taste much better than they sound. These same fake meats are used in Veggie Garden's all-vegan buffet and menu dishes. Its sister restaurant, Suma's Veggie Cafe, has a small grocery section in its dining room as well.

We troll all over town for steals and like this place best because of the high quality of the resale items. The staff is pleasant, un-pushy. The atmosphere is clean. The prices are reasonable. Make sure to negotiate at the front desk, because they'll usually knock off 10 percent just because you had the nerve to barter.

Of the five Dallas locations and three in Denton County, this Lower Greenville store is the flagship, offering the entire gamut of the hard stuff as well as 1,500 brands of wine, ranging from the best produced by Texas wineries to imports from all over the world. If it's beer you're stopping in for, reserve some time to look over the 100 or more brands, ranging from domestic to imported to microbrew labels. Bottom line is that wine is the specialty of the house, proven by the fact that Goody purchasing director Dick Rick Jr. annually travels throughout Europe, South America and Australia to buy the best of the best.

This category is about quantity. Of the rows of chocolate Super Target sells, which include your standard Halloween-sized bags of Almond Joys, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Snickers bars and the like, there is one deal that will make your eyes pop out: Super Target, the bigger and more upscale version of regular Target, sells a Toblerone bar the size of a fire log for next to nothing. We're talking 14.1 ounces of pure Swiss-made, almond nougat chocolate ecstasy for $4.99. If the triangular-shaped treat isn't your taste, 3.05-ounce Lindt bars can be found for $1.79, and bigger still Cadbury bars, weighing in at a belt-busting 4.05 ounces, go for just $1.29.

The Ole Moon has some of the most inspired hand-crafted jewelry you're likely to find anywhere. Constructed of silver, gold and semiprecious stones, this collection of bewitching baubles, bangles and chains is designed by skilled artisans with a sharply focused eye toward distinctive display.