Piece by Piece
Out of Texas’ ragbag history came the patchwork quilt, the product of cold winters, isolated homesteads, empty pocketbooks, and fertile minds.
Out of Texas’ ragbag history came the patchwork quilt, the product of cold winters, isolated homesteads, empty pocketbooks, and fertile minds.
Soon there won’t be anyone left who wants to be a cop.
The board of the Dallas Theater Center is fighting with its stuck-in-a-rut staff to pull the company out of its decade of doldrums.
Brown & Root looks for a way out; Mark White looks for a way in; who’s number one at UT; the Court of Criminal Appeals blows another one.
Pickens, pesos, and notes from the fringe.
Sundown’s up and Morton’s down: Dallas is Texas’ most mental city; the Spurs are Texas’ most schizophrenic team; the Aggies are ushering in brave new world; Fort Worth is fixing to challenge Detroit.
The life and times of the cowboy-millionaire hero of a thousand postcards.
Life is false fronts and fantasies to the women who flock to a dusty Texas town in Robert Altman’s Com Back to the 5 & Dime Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean. The Missionary won’t convert you. Still of the Night is still, all right.
String the lights, hang the tinsel and the expense. It’s Christmas and the decorated homes of Texans are second to none.
Does Texas’ greatest college coach miss football? Nope.
In Corpus Christi’s schools, testing kids is as important as teaching them—which has greatly improved test scores but not the quality of public education.
On Christmas Day, people all across the country can tune in to PBS to hear the Concert Chorale of Houston sing the Messiah. That’s reason to rejoice.
Ten thousand doors.
Reading aloud at Christmas charms the wiggliest kids and takes the humbug out of anyone.
A new book on the Amon Carter Museum’s photography collection chronicles one and a half colorful centuries of America in haunting black and white.
Was the partridge in a pear tree you gave last Christmas not fully appreciated? Our sensational gift ideas will save you this year.
Remodeling is hell.
Making a mountain out of a Greenhill; Dallas versus Houston in the governor’s race; Post time at the Chronicle; the Yankees are after our oil money again.
Standard bearers, sentence parers, blue wayfarers.
Texas’ greatest rural sheriff, oddest permutation of democracy, unlikeliest punk heroes, and hottest airline dogfight.
Sunny in the morning, sunny in the evening, freezing by suppertime.
Laughter, nostalgia, and a delightful performance by Peter O’Toole are brought to you by My Favorite Year, a tribute to the heyday of TV. Lookin’ to Get Out will have you doing the same. Yes, Giorgio is so-so. Texas has its moments.
When you’re an Air Force brat, parting is part of growing up.
Houston’s black elite have come a very long way to live in MacGregor Way, the swankiest black neighborhood in Texas, but they still don’t feel safe.
His first spacecraft blew up on the pad and his primary investor died, but the first free enterprise rocket finally flew from Matagorda.
The bright-eyed, pink-cheeked cream of Texas youth aren’t scrambling on the football field. They’re playing in the high school band.
Side by side near a Texas river are dinosaur tracks and what appear to be the marks of a human foot—proof, in the creationist mind, that evolution is bunk.
Textbook watchdogs Mel and Norma Gabler are good, sincere, dedicated people, who just may be destroying your child’s education.
Four Saints isn’t a solemn Gregorian chant but a lovable American opera. New LPs of Brahms, Shostakovich, and Bach are worth a second listen.
Mind over manners.
Roy Fridge’s curious assemblages reflect the cryptic world he created to replace the one he left behind.
The inside story of Boone Pickens’ adventures in the Wall Street merger game, featuring action, suspense, drama, a few laughs, and a special guest appearance by President Ronald Reagan.
Roy Kendall, self-taught lepidopterist, would want you to add this to the list of reasons for living in Texas: nowhere else in the U.S. are there so many beautiful and unusual butterflies.
Jim Collins is running for the Senate on the claim that it’s better to be right (wing) than to pass bills. If he wins, it will change Texas politics.
West Texas' Indian motels; dueling fundraisers; a not-so-sweet deal; adventures in the legal trade.
Sticks and bones.
The harsh truth about Mexican corruption; the twilight zone of Houston journalism; the instant $82 million oil bust; the tastemakers of art-to-eat.
Plant it, sit in its shade, but most of all, feast on its fruit.
Johnny Copeland had to abandon his Gulf Coast home and head for New York City before he could make hi mark with the blues.
He has no manners, polish, or panache. He has stubble, a low brow, and a violent temper. Thanks to filmakers from down under, he's the new Austrailian male.
To join the toot set at Dallas' flashiest clubs, you need voguish looks, a sturdy constitution, and a fat pocketbook.
Memories are made of this, pal.
The footloose scout in Larry McMurtry's Cadillac Jack travels on and off the beaten track in omnivorous pursuit of women and objects d'art. In The Shadow Line, New-Yorker-turned-Texan Laura Furman captures the atmosphere of Inner Loop Houston.
Who’s who, and who’s doing what to whom: a brief guide.
What you won’t see from Dallas designers is lots of froufrou. What you will see is a look tailored for the working woman.
The end of the Chagra family’s drug empire, a few words on murderer-for-hire Charles Harrelson, and the most incriminating tapes since Watergate.
The university at one hundred; how good is it, really?
Between watching girls and getting a great tan, lifeguards occasionally have to save lives.
In the past two years Kjehl Rasmussen has opened two acclaimed Dallas theaters and directed a hit musical. And that’s just for starters.
Taller-than-thou in Houston; Bullock and his feelings; the fate of the Boll Weevils; yellow journalism in Dallas.