Let’s get this out of the way at the top: seeking to identify “the very first rock and roll record” is a fool’s errand, one which writer Nick Tosches likened to trying to “discern where blue becomes indigo in the spectrum.” And yet doing so has long been a favorite parlor game of rock scholars.
DALLAS — “Texans will smoke anything,” said Scott Moore Jr., a Tejas Chocolate co-founder, explaining why his Papua New Guinea bars are one of his top sellers, to a roomful of hopeful chocolate makers at the annual Dallas Chocolate Festival last month. Another maker had just razzed him for playing up the smoke in his bars, something chocolate connoisseurs consider a defect of the Papua New Guinea bean.
Last year, a contest to reimagine uses of the Astrodome contained several imaginative proposals. None of them were under any serious or official consideration, but all of them featured the unfettered imaginations of world-class architects at work. They included turning the 8th Wonder of the World into a giant parking garage, or into a monument to Billie Jean King.
The ongoing dilemma of what to do with the Astrodome has been one of the more amusing sideshows in Houston over the past couple of years. Suggestions have ranged from the brutally utilitarian (turning it into a massive parking garage) to the whimsical (transforming it into a monument to Billie Jean King, whose victory in the famous “Battle of the Sexes” match took place beneath the Dome).
When major advances in medical science are being tested, they frequently start on animals—specifically, apes that share the vast majority of their DNA with humans. So when the Houston Zoo’s 42-year-old orangutan, Cheyenne, fell ill, two doctors from the area stepped up to return the favor.