Fortune’s Smile
Tevin Campbell, the thirteen-year-old soul sensation, is Texas’ answer to Michael Jackson.
Former senior editor Joe Nick Patoski has been writing about Texas and Texans for five decades. He is the author and coauthor of biographies of Willie Nelson, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Selena, and the Dallas Cowboys, and he wrote the texts for various coffee-table books on the Texas mountains, the Texas coast, and Big Bend National Park.
One of his more recent titles is Austin to ATX: The Hippies, Pickers, Slackers, and Geeks Who Transformed the Capital of Texas, published in 2019. His 2020 book, The Ballad of Robert Ealey and His Five Careless Lovers, is an oral history of the seminal blues band Patoski grew up with in Fort Worth in the early 1970s. He has also written Generations on the Land, published by Texas A&M University Press, and Texas High School Football: More Than the Game, a catalog of an exhibit he curated for the Bob Bullock Texas State History Museum in 2011, and has contributed essays to the books Homegrown, Conjunto, and My Soul Looks Back in Wonder.
A staff writer for Texas Monthly for eighteen years and a onetime reporter for the Austin American-Statesman, Patoski currently serves as a writer-at-large for Texas Highways and hosts The Texas Music Hour of Power on Marfa Public Radio and Wimberley Valley Radio.
He directed the documentary film Sir Doug and the Genuine Texas Cosmic Groove about the musician Doug Sahm in 2015.
He lives in the Texas Hill Country near Wimberley.
Tevin Campbell, the thirteen-year-old soul sensation, is Texas’ answer to Michael Jackson.
The Tetons are grander and Santa Fe is tonier, but no place is more apropos than Ruidoso.
Three masters show why conjunto, the accordion music of the Tex-Mex border, is hotter thatn Lajitas in August.
Robert Bass must sometimes wish he had coveted an easier takeover target than the Flordia company that owns the St. Petersburg Times.
Friendly Cowboy Jim gives San Antonio tourists what they want.
Kicking the habit in Randall County Jail.
Padre’s spring breakers just want to have fun.
A $10 million sweepstakes winner wants to run Denton.
Entertainer John Armstrong applies the scientific method to children’s birthday parties.
The bands play on and on and on in Austin.
Stubb’s barbecue, with a side order of blues, hits the road again. Destination: Lower Greenville.
An Alpine weekly digs up all the news that’s fit to print—and then some.
Tim Johnson came out smelling like a rose when San Franciscans detected broken gas lines.
An airport spat rekindles the Dallas-Fort Worth feud; South Plains farmers cotton to a colorful high-fiber crop; Houston artists collaborate to wish everyone Feliz Navidad.
Baby boomers get their acts together.
Conquest Airlines flies where few have gone before.
A coach and student rap it up in Brazosport.
The Animal Liberation Front terrorizes Texas Tech: RVs lumber through the Big Bend drug net; eclectic eats served to a boogie beat in the Hill Country.
Three cheers for Lawrence Herkimer and his leap to fame.
Dallas’ grandstanding irks Arlington; writers jockey for position in the Matamoros book derby; A&M’s bluebonnets show their not-so-true colors; San Antonio goes loco over Lico Lico.
The Starck Club, R.I.P.
How did shy, sweet Edie Brickell become America’s hottest new performer? By sticking to her vision —and doing what the record company told her.
Interesting things can happen when a man with an unusual vision also has an unusual amount of money.
Austin’s homeless find a home sweet home on the lake; Fort Worth’s impresario of white gospel puts on a no-sweat show; Dallas’ Comet crashes; and Houston’s Orange Show marks a decade of—well, orange.
It took a bit of coaxing, but when R. T. Williams finally sat down at the piano again, the Grey Ghost came back to life.
A new gambling-cruise-ship enterprise out of Port Isabel makes it possible to spend an evening in a casino while going nowhere in the Gulf.
It’s cold and rainy; your stress level has reached an all-time high; your roof has sprung a leak. But you don’t have to sit still for this. Escape to the Bay Islands of Honduras.
The Permian Panthers provide the best entertainment between Dallas and El Paso, and nobody enjoys the show more than Jerry Swindall.
As Nashville pandered to the lowest common denominator, Texans found a new audience hungry for old traditions.
Not your run-of-the-mill pickers and singers, these performers are determined to carve out new territory.
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.
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.
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.
Experts predict the first swarms could cross the border next year. What happens then to Texas’ multimillion-dollar honey industry is anybody’s guess.
If the brand-spanking new Mexican beach resort of Huatulco is what you’ve been waiting for, then keep waiting.
Time-honored Texas rituals.
Time-honored Texas rituals.
Willie Nelson’s true love may have a body that’s worse for the wear, but woe to the man who tries to pick it up.
Time-honored Texas rituals.
Jan Reid was a senior editor at Texas Monthly and also contributed to Esquire, GQ, Slate, Men’s Journal, Men’s Health, and the New York Times.
Never say Kant, Socrates it to ’em, and other collected wisdom from Texas’ Friday-night philosophers.
We have seen the future of Dallas nightlife, and it is called Dallas Alley.
What sport requires cunning, stamina, skill, and a fondess for sloshing aroound in the muck? Why, fishing for reds off the coast of Texas, of course.
Three shark attacks on the Texas coast this summer are making swimmers edgy and chambers of commerce ask one question: what’s going on out there?
These tall office towers, observatories, and revolving restaurants offer inspiring vies of Texas’ cityscapes.
Not in the mood for a plush vacation resort or the rigors of backpacking? Instead, try solitude and starry nights at one of these ten park hideaways.
In a land of contrasts, a few hours can mean the difference between drought and deluge.
A new breed of home-delivery specialists will bring everything from dinner for eight to a masseur to a dog trainer to your door. Here are more than a hundred to try.
A group of dancers from Garland, aged 57 to 90, would rather rock on than rock in a chair.
The world’s hottest restaurant chain turns into Texas’ hottest restaurant feud.