May 1994
Features
The end of the Southwest Conference was predictable, but for eighty years it gave Texas fans a brand of football that was anything but.
Around the state, a smorgasbord of stylish new restaurants defines the Texas bitegeist.
In the nineties, it’s hip to be square and cool to be clueless. Our guide to the new Texas man.
During the days of segregation, a young graduate of all-white Rice University managed to become a professor at all-black Texas Southern University.
In the campaign for governor, the Republican nominee is out to prove to voters—and himself—that he’s his own George Bush.
These days everybody wants a piece of the Alamo. Can the Daughters of the Republic of Texas hang on their sacred shrine?
Columns
Q: Who was so good at a computer network’s trivia game that he got kicked of the system? A: A Texan Bernie Schwal.
In Houston a handful of juke joints and beer bars offers blues the way they used to be—a soulful, gritty communal rite.
Bob Eckhardt left an indelible mark on Texas liberalism. At eighty, he looks back on his wins, losses, and wives.
With high-tech wiring, a Smart House can cook dinner, wash the dishes, and entertain guests. Are you smart enough to live in it.
Reporter
The family gift for gab radio is bringing El Paso’s Fred Imus fortune and fame.
H.E.B.’s research said Austinites would rush to a huge gourmet grocery. It was right.
In Midland a disputed bird and animal refuge has the mayor and others crying fowl.
With a song on a hit movie sound track, Dallasite Lisa Loeb is ready to make a deal.

