The Best Strikes Back
Four years ago we brought you the Best of Texas. Now we do it again— only better.
Four years ago we brought you the Best of Texas. Now we do it again— only better.
When black militant Lee Otis Johnson got out of prison his old friends welcomed him with open arms. Later, some of them wished they hadn’t.
Where else but the Galleria could you find a lavender lace Western dress, a Persian turquoise necklace, and Texas’ most expensive potato chips?
Reading Big Oil’s annual reports for the truth about profits is a little like drilling for oil in the Baltimore Canyon: you know it’s there, but how deep will you have to go to find it?
They’re delightful, they’re delovely, they’re delicious.
Have you ever wondered what Houston and Dallas look like to tourists? A Gray Line Bus is the perfect way to find out.
Houston could forfeit the world’s largest convention; Mutscher loses—again; real estate empires totter; the growing ambitions of Bob Bullock.
Skyscrapers and front porches, sex on the border and at the table, animals assailed and saved.
Weathering a year-long drouth in South Texas; Harlingen’s cute little, uh, body builder; adversaries in the bilingual education battle don’t speak the same language; Bastards from Hell terrorize Houston.
The rebus factor.
He came to Austin, Texas, with a guitar on his knee.
The Guadalupe River is beautiful, inviting, and treacherous.
Too many chefs.
Urban Cowboy falls off its horse; The Shining is Stanley Kubrick’s horror odyssey; The Empire Strikes Back, but it’s no coup; Alfred Hitchcock takes the fortieth step.
Texas’ most glamorous mall has all the comforts of home and then some. So why not move in?
Move over, Jett Rink. The West Texas wildcatter may give way to a new breed: the West Texas vintner.
Two guest conductors in Texas are wizards at their work; three Houston Grand Opera productions are enchanting.
Jehovah’s Witnesses in Dallas have their Kingdom on earth; Presbyterians in Midland have taken root on the dusty plain.
Once again our presidential candidates are promising to get the government under control. Here’s why they won’t.
Dallas’s David McManaway is an artist of many charms.
The biggest landholders in the state, acre by acre.
There’s more for the traveler in San Antonio than meets the Alamo.
If throwing a spitball is an art, Gaylord Perry is Michelangelo.
Here’s how to achieve inner peace, perfect serenity, spiritual calm, and a nice, neat lawn.
When NBC televised The Oldest Living Graduate, it broadcast the flaws of live TV drama. Theatre Three’s Second Stage Festival deserved a larger viewing audience.
Not even a freak April snow could keep the glittering multitude from the Y.O. Ranch’s one-hundredth birthday party.
A controversial nuclear plant moves to Texas; Clements costs us $11 million; making census out of Houston; the Senate moves toward the center.
Light at the end of the tunnel, frost on the top of the mountain, brass knucks in the lunchbox.
Exploding the myth of the long-haul trucker; half a million Texas students get snookered; beating the IRS - maybe; praise the Lord and pass the ballot.
Fowl language.
The beat goes on in Texas music - from Christopher Cross’s pop ‘n’ roll to the ever-rich rhythm and blues of the Fabulous Thunderbirds.
A lot of farmers and gardeners think Congressman Kika de la Garza is a pest.
Party hearty.
What’s up, documentaries?
You can find the spice of your life at Uncle Tai’s in Houston; you don’t have a choice at Joe T. Garcia’s in Fort Worth - except good, reliable Tex-Mex.
As more and more city dwellers tread on the landscape, farmers and ranchers are less inclined to forgive those who trespass against them.
The Texas Little Symphony’s April concert was no whistle-stop - it was Carnegie Hall. Two chamber groups, Voices of Change and Syzygy, take the Twentieth Century Limited.
On Palm Sunday Episcopalians at St. David’s in Austin rekindled their faith in the life and teachings of Jesus. At nearby Greater Mt. Zion on Easter, Baptists relived the miracles of His resurrection.
None of the old clichés about voluntarism are true except this one: it works.
Nuevo Laredo’s Boys’ Town, where lost innocence meets failed dreams.
You can still find it in these great small towns.
The intrigue behind the building of Houston’s Texas Commerce Tower was almost as monumental as the 75-story structure itself.
Comin’ in on a wing and a mare.
The Alley mourns the passing of Nina Vance; outlanders rustle a Texas-trained playwright; in Houston, Stages spends a Night on Bare Mountain and Hank Williams appears at the Tower.
Bringing the world’s most controversial feminist sculpture to Texas turned out to be no picnic - but a rare feast for connoisseurs of the outrageous.
Plaguing the Panhandle; rebuking the Washington Post; slaughtering the Beeferendum; lusting after the Speakership.
Barrio blues, cable cares, coddied eggs.
Fighting over a black neighborhood in Austin; corralling the irascible Bull of the Brazos; fussing and feuding with the DAR; monkeying around with the San Antonio Zoo.
This is the question: is it a crime to be politically inept?
Restless, rustless.