Riding Coattails

Riding Coattails Friends of Bill take his case to the cineplex Usually, the films produced and released by Regent Entertainment go straight to cable, then to the video-store discount racks; such is the inevitable fate of fare starring Jack Wagner, Lorenzo Lamas, Adrienne Barbeau, Bruce Boxleitner and other Love Boat…

Oh, for Crape’s Sake

You think you have problems in your neighborhood? Crack houses? Rat-infested vacant lots? Listen, wuss, you don’t know how mean the mean streets of the city can get, and if you don’t want to find out, then don’t ever, ever touch one bloom on a crape myrtle. Someone should have…

Restart the Insanity

Restart the Insanity Remember Susan Powter–the brash, blond, buzz-cut Dallas soccer mom who was screaming “Stop the insanity!” on her weight-loss infomercials in the ’90s, like some sorta inverse Richard Simmons? Well, she lives in Seattle now, has grown her hair long, has converted to lesbianism and is making a…

Letters

Dastardly DART Officer unfriendly: I’m so glad that you have brought to the public’s attention DART’s “blind eye” attitude toward the public (“DART Guns,” by Jim Schutze, July 8). I’ve been riding DART off and on for about 15 years (depending on my car situation). Although my experiences were not…

The Beautiful Ones

The bass pulses in my bones, causing my hips to thrust involuntarily to the beat. Most nights, this is not a particularly rhythmic activity for me; it’s more of a seismic anomaly than a dance move. Tonight is different. I’m poured into my best Italian suit. I’m recording urbane observations…

Home Suh-weet Home

Home Suh-weet Home Preserve history, get a tax breakis that a bad deal? It’s a beautiful home the Pattersons have. Sits on nearly five acres of land just off a gravel path near Wendover Road in Lakewood. The home–with its six fireplaces, four bedrooms and bathrooms, and three porches, two…

Talk Back

Listen up, conservative people, could you please give the ol’ Buzzer a break and stop being so damned nice and reasonable when we call you? It would make our job–i.e., flinging stones at you–much easier if you would give us a little more rabidity and a little less rationality. What…

Letters

Temperature Rising Feel for the veterans: I happen to like Michael Moore’s work and have debated with many of my friends over the editing of his documentaries (“George of the Bungle,” by Gregory Weinkauf, June 24). There is one thing we do agree on and Mr. Moore himself has said,…

Dynamite Dave

When David Williams walks into a little pizza joint near SMU’s campus, it’s nearly two in the afternoon. He looks college-kid smooth–worn jeans and a comfortable shirt, pimp sunglasses hiding his eyes–and he has a beautiful woman on his arm. They move easily together, and people notice as they stroll…

The Enemy Within

The Enemy Within Buddhisms peaceful message draws Dallas young CHANGE YOUR MIND, change the world. This is the radical thought of Buddhism–regarded by some as a religion and by others as a philosophy–and the message is finding its way to a growing number of young adults in Dallas who are…

No Comparison

We all know that it’s illogical to compare apples and oranges. Anyone who would attempt to draw a comparison between two such dissimilar things is a fool. But that’s never stopped Buzz before, so here goes. See, we were talking on the phone Monday with Mario Hernandez, president of the…

Letters

Pissin’ on the Prez Well gollleee: When pissing on a flaming picture of the president won’t get you in the paper (Buzz, by Patrick Williams, June 17), the gun-toting Dallas Redneck Assholes (we all know who they are) will. So a bunch of hack, twentysomething, do-nothing-but-bitch “political rockers” (what the…

Up the Crick

Springtime in Deep Ellum, on a Friday night in 1998. An otherwise average night except for the noise coming from the street–a heavy machine-operated clamor that pounds its way into the loft above the art deco store at 2825 Commerce St. Justin Burgess is in that loft, waiting for sleep…

Can’t Go Home Again

Can’t Go Home Again The wandering Dallas Burn hopes its fans will follow Out comes the flag again. It’s maybe 40 feet long and 40 feet wide with a simple crimson and black blocked design. The guy running it up the steps of the Cotton Bowl, man, he’s a fan…

Love Shaq

Everyone in Dallas is salivating over the prospect of Shaquille O’Neal playing for the Mavericks next season. No one on the Mavs has been deemed untouchable by owner Mark Cuban when it comes to trade talks with the Los Angeles Lakers, even Dirk Nowitzki. That saddens us, sure, but with…

Miller on Miller

Editor’s note: In a D Magazine interview with Channel 11 anchorman Tracy Rowlett, Mayor Laura Miller says she’s matured since her days as a firebrand Dallas Observer columnist. She says she knows there is no longer a conspiracy at City Hall. Her ghost, which still haunts her old Observer office…

Rejected

We weren’t a confident bunch before Saturday’s game began. It was hot out, and the Dallas-Fort Worth sports media don’t usually do hot. We like climate-controlled arenas and soft chairs to cushion our ample backsides. Plus, we were set to play against the Mavericks coaches in the annual Hoop-it-Up clash…

Letters

When Perfect Isn’t Perfect enough: The unmentioned story behind the story (“Nice Kid, But…” by Zac Crain, June 17) is the uncomfortable likelihood that a true merit-based admissions policy would produce college classes overwhelmingly heavy in Indians (such as Mr. Biswas), Asians and homeschoolers to the detriment of minorities and…

Rockin’ Politics

It’s a tough life being in a rock-and-roll band. Endless days on the road, long nights in smoky clubs, the occasional beating by thugs who don’t like your politics. You’re probably wondering what we mean by that last one. Well, we’re talking about Lillian Berlin, singer for the band Living…

“Nice Kid, But…”

The kid calls it luck, says it with a little laugh and a small smile, as if he´s sharing a secret. Says it casually, his dark eyes flitting from side to side before they land in his lap. It´s the same self-effacing manner he adopts whenever the subject of Niket…

By the Book

My wife belongs to a book club, a monthly, no-men-allowed assembly at the home of one of her girlfriends where the gossip and red wine flow as freely as the discussion of that month’s book. It’s more of a social gathering than anything else, and the books under consideration are…

Dear Hunter

When the phone rang, it was early morning, and Pete Hunter didn’t react at first. The sun hadn’t come up, and the sleep crust hadn’t fully formed in the corner of his eyes. He rolled over, fighting through the heavy fog that lingers when you’re barely awake, and he wasn’t…