Now Hear This
The surprising sound of the Internet.
The surprising sound of the Internet.
Oak Cliff native Roy Hargrove may not have the depth and seasoning of Wynton Marsalis, but the 26-year-old prodigy could still be one of the great jazz trumpeters of our day.
For the Wilsons of Dallas, taking pictures was a family affair. Today the mother is a successful photographer and her boys are hot Hollywood commodities. Here’s a look at Laura Wilson’s personal album.
When he left the University of Texas at Austin in 1993 with a broken ankle, a backpack, and a one-way ticket to Los Angeles, Arlo Eisenberg had no intention of becoming a big wheel—he just wanted to skate. Yet within three months, the Dallas native was performing with Team Rollerblade,
After twenty years as the reigning queen of the soaps, the essential truth about Morgan Fairchild remains: She’s not a bitch, but she plays one on TV.
A new book about Lee Harvey Oswald reveals that conspiracy theorists are still straining to repackage old news into something new.
“Michael Jackson’s disease” sounds like a punch line, but the pigment-robbing skin disorder is no joke. Just ask Dallas County commissioner John Wiley Price.
You know the real reason Texas Stadium has no roof? So Jerry Jones can get his head inside. (Or, how the Cowboys owner’s ego makes it hard to root for America’s Team.)
Wacky White House wannabes.
Two grim incidents involving guns, three dead teenagers: Reflections on self-defense.
Kim Wozencraft meant to spend her life putting drug pushers behind bars—until she became an addict. Now, more than a decade later, she’s fighting against the justice system she once embraced.
You might say Tarek Souryal is the most important Dallas Maverick: He doesn’t score or rebound, but he reconstructs million-dollar ankles and knees, and that makes him a real team player.
There’s black gold in the South American rain forest—lots of it. Can the oil companies get it out without ruining the jungle and the way of life of the Indians who live there? The perils of drilling in the heart of darkness.
Mary Kay Ash and Jinger Heath have made fortunes getting women to buy and sell their beauty products. But no lipstick or powder can conceal the ugliness between these Dallas cosmetics queens.
Once an accomplished newscaster and reporter in Dallas, he’s still going strong—and now solo—on PBS.
No longer judged a lightweight.
Head of the class.
Preaching tolerance.
The people’s mayor.
The late folk artist Willard Watson was a funky fixture of Dallas’ art scene. Better known as the Texas Kid, he was famous or his courly manners, cockammy yard art in his Love Field-area home, and eye-popping, Longhourn-crowned luxury cars. Watson often collaborated with other artists; in 1976, for example,
After years of arguing that vigorous activity is a key to good health, Kenneth Cooper is exercising his right to change his mind.
When burglars targeted my Dallas business for repreated break-ins, I felt violated—and I fought back.
During the first week of April, as the Legislature considered the case for concealed weapons, Texas mourned the consequences of two gun-related tragedies in Corpus Christi: the murder of Tejano superstar Selena Quintanilla Perez and the shooting of five workers at a refinery inspection company by a disgruntled
Meet the hip young chefs at two Texas restaurants that everyone’s buzzing about.
Phil Gramm is a world-class fundraiser, but it will take more than money to carry him to the White House in 1996.
As a curator and in his own work as a painter, Jerry Bywaters left a lasting legacy of Texas art.
One night the pastor of Dallas’ all-powerful First Baptist Church mysteriously resigned. To this day, no one is sure why.
This creation mixes and matches ingredients from the countries of the Mediterranean: grilled portobello mushrooms from Italy, olive oil from France or Spain, hummus-tahini spread from the Middle East.“This sandwich was my wife’s idea,” says David Holben, the executive chef at Dallas’ Mediterraneo. “She’s a vegetarian and she asked me
Jerry Jones may have the biggest ego in football, but don’t bet against him. Even without Jimmy Johnson, he still has the best team.
Around the state, a smorgasbord of stylish new restaurants defines the Texas bitegeist.
She was the princess who wore Tiffany perfume. He was the middle-class guy who raced cars. But when they met on the cystic fibrosis wing of a Dallas hospital, romance bloomed.
My third year organizing the JFK assassination conference was one year too many.
In a chilling excerpt from his autobiography, the late John Connally offers his close-up account of the Kennedy assassination.
The latest culinary crazy, Cowboy Cuisine has put a new spin on traditional Texas cooking.
Dallas police say Charles Albright is the coldest, most depraved killer of women in the city’s history. To me, he seems like a perfect gentleman. Maybe too perfect.
From Kathleen’s Art Cafe, Dallas
“People will watch anything,” says B-film director Bret McCormick.
Bare and spare, J. Crew’s newest retail outlet pays homage to refined minimalism.
Three years after he replaced Tom Landry, Jimmy Johnson is giving Dallas Cowboys fans something to cheer about—and his critics are eating their words.
Haven’t heard of Geof Kern, Texas’ most famous photographer? You must live here.
The face of Dallas’ most eclectic neighborhood changes every day, but its appeal remains familiar—and it keeps getting stronger.
George H. W. Bush's commencement speech at Southern Methodist University was long on rhetoric and short on specifics.
A Dallas stylist’s patrons enjoy hair-raising experiences.
For six years, my landlord and his wife were the perfect neighbors. Then he was accused of murdering her—and suddenly I didn’t know what to believe.
Dallas sportswriter Skip Bayless takes his column high tech.
Today, TGI Friday’s is sedate, but twenty years ago this month, the place started the singles era in Dallas.
Dallas’ Bonehead Club revels in a well-deserved reputation for contrariness.
New guides to Houston and Metroplex eateries hash it out.
Sure, they were gangsters, but they were our gangsters.
Sifting through stored collections, the Dallas Museum of Art discovers a tradition of spiritual subtlety among Texas artists.