Cars? No Thanks, I’d Rather Walk
You pay for interest, gas, oil, repairs, and insurance. I pay for shoe leather.
You pay for interest, gas, oil, repairs, and insurance. I pay for shoe leather.
It’s this simple: people’s teeth should not chatter in the summer.
A kindergarten teacher tells what she learned in school.
Outside of town, in the Big Thicket, lived Texas’ most exotic wildlife—and most of it was human.
The Air Force takes over Big Bend; NCNB takes over First Republic; Dukakis takes over Bentsen; and who wil take an empty Senate seat?
Getting more bang for the buck; remembering a muddy, moody river; banking on Texas; sharing a Texas tradition.
Channel 5 in Fort Worth hits forty; Elvis fever hits Waco; a would-be DA hits a snag in Raymondville; and Hangs Book is a hit with fishermen.
Willie Nelson’s Fourth of July Picnic at Carl’s Corner was the picnic to end all picnics. It did just that.
The portraits of a long-forgotten studio photographer yield images of dignity in a small Texas town.
They don’t use air conditioning, they don’t drive cars, they don’t watch football—yet they dare to call themselves Texans.
In the town George Parr once dominated, a nineteen-year-old mother was gang-raped by her neighbors. In the aftermath of the crime, the old horrors of San Diego have surfaced anew.
At the opera house back on Earth, music sometimes overwhelms sense. But out on Planet 8 you couldn’t hear the music for the words.
Messin’ with Texas.
Let there be light, but leave us in the dark. Long before Ozona knew about ozone, Texans were inventing scads of ways to hide from rays.
Get hip to zydeco, the born-on-the-bayou sound with the accordion accent. Ready for it red hot? Check out a Saturday-night church dance in Houston.
Heat + pressure + yttrium + a politically savvy University of Houston physicist = a formula to change the world.
The congressional investigation that is focusing on Speaker Jim Wright’s ethics is missing the real problem —his judgment.
Fire ants are on a relentless march across Texas, maiming, devouring, and stinging the living daylights out of everything in their path. We’ve tried to stop them, and it has only made them stronger.
Don’t say this word aloud in polite company if you want to stay on the author’s good side.
Where the heck is Salado, and why are world-famous intellectuals flocking there?
Looking for gas in all the wrong places; a casualty report from the Texas drought; an early look at redistricting.
Lonesome Dove on film; Lance Lalor on tape, an optimist on Mexico; West Texas State alumni on mediocrity.
The case of the purloined painting; how to tell the Surf Club from the Yacht Club; cream of the ice-cream crop; people who live in pink houses.
Look out, Texas! If drought comes, can tons of blowing dirt be far behind?
You see them on TV, adorable youngsters asking to be adopted. But the dreadful odyssey of the Wednesday’s Child rarely has a made-for-television happy ending.
Fun voting no.
Kinky Friedman dropped out for a while, but it sure beat dropping dead. Now the warped warbler is back with a play, a movie deal, and murder mystery number three.
Seven Central Texas caves put on the summer’s best rock show.
With these lively Mexican skirts, what goes around comes around.
Yes, it’s muddy, it’s treacherous, and it smells bad enough to gag a skunk; but it’s also the only thing between us and Oklahoma.
A tiger, a zoo, a terrifying death.
Attention, tightwads! Act now! Suits to nuts—the big bang for the little buck! Check out our supersavin’, dollar-bustin’ bible of buys! Everything must go! (Offer available in Texas only.)
The only way to see Big Bend’s canyons is from the river, but that doesn’t mean you have to get wet, eat trail mix, or give up Bach.
Go to junior college and see the world; the U.S. Supreme Court looks askance on Texas’ legal bills; a Hispanic political institution at the crossroads; does George Bush have coattails?
The gift of life; first impressions; a favorite centenarian.
A spree décor: a buying guide to the new Dallas shopping trip
Move over, Trivial Pursuit. Out of the way, Pictionary. Texas’ very own domino game is making a comeback at the age of 101.
A battle over a vacant state Senate seat reveals that the scars from years of Democratic party infighting haven’t healed yet.
Deadlines came and deadlines went, and Bob Abboud still could not seal the deal to bail out First City. But with his ego and $1 billion plus on the line, he’d be damned if he’d back down first.
Prom night.
Dealing drugs along the border is a risky, illegal business—unless you happen to be one of the nine Texans licensed to sell peyote.
On the eve of the Mexican elections, the country’s dwindling middle class prefers fatalism to Fabianism.
A salute to Texas athletes trying young: seven hearts set on the Summer Olympics.
Why Continental isn’t in Love (Field); Clinton Manges takes the horns by the Bullock; tort reform and the good bidness climate; logic in advertising.
Ten years old and burning out; totally nice competition; a trip work taking—once.
The bash of the century in Austin; new heights for an Alamo author; slouching toward Jerusalem, Texas; plus designer tomatoes, East Texas ingenuity, and Amazing Car #8.
It began in 1865 as a joyous celebration of emancipation. Today young black Texans find the holiday overshadowed by more immediate concerns.
Marine scientists have struggled for ten years to establish a new colony of ridley sea turtles on South Padre Islands. All their efforts may have been in vain.
Houston’s city controller prided himself on being the most scrupulously honest politician in town. So why did he sign his name to someone else credit card?
In which the author becomes a star—for three seconds.