Storm damage from Alicia may include the public's right to use the beach; Texas pecan growers go nuts over the feds; Mexico's ruling party turns up the heat on the opposition; why there may be an NCAA football play-off sooner than you think.
A better Dallas, a wider conspiracy, a madder Wichita Falls.
Damming the Rio Grande; cruising the streets of Houston; building the nation's biggest organ; remembering the Alamo.
Box score.
In the sixties a small company in Medina produced a wooden box decorated with rhinestones. It became a Texas tradition.
Al Pacino carries on the gangster tradition in Scarface; the mystery in Gorky Park is not whodunit but who'll survive the investigation; Tentl is a Barbra Streisand tour de force.
You may not have heard saxman Ben Webster when he was around, but his recordings with Duke Ellington, Benny Carter, and Gerry Mulligan are a treasure trove not to be missed.
Presenting Carolyn Farb, worthy to Dolph Briscoe, Farrah Fawcett, J. R. Ewing, Mike Martin, and Jackie Sherrill as Bum Steer of the Year—and 107 other fascinating foibles.
“Light this candle.”
The greening (and redding, and yellowing, and blueing) of the prefabricated warehouse.
In death as in life, the Mexican revolutionary is still causing trouble. This time the border skirmish is over his death mask.
The halls are alive with the sound of music.
More trouble ahead for Jim Mattox; oil pipeline for sale—cheap; the EPA gets dumped over toxic dumping; raindrops on GTE’s head at Braniff Place.
Listen up, you Monday morning quarterbacks. How much do you really know about the classic triple option?
Banks play domino, Presidio plays it cool, Beaumont plays to win.
Masons in trouble; Wally in wonderland; vice in Amarillo; vitamins in Mount Pleasant; Czechs in print.
Perforations.
Yes, Virginia Sue, Texas really does have its own holiday traditions.
Terms of Endearment features a Houston setting but also drab cinematography and cramped direction. The sickening Star 80 goes too far; the impressionistic Rumble Fish reaches too high.
Fabled Texas pianist Peck Kelley appears, at last, on a gold mine of an album. There’s lodes more with Red Garland, Pete Petersen, and other jazz whizzes.
December 1941 in Clarksville was a time to celebrate peace on earth amid the rumblings of war.
Fie on the cilantro fad, greaseless barbecue, and indiscriminate mesquite-grilling. Let’s hear it for Frito pie, catfish plates, and other gems of Texas’ true cuisine
These days the Houston Symphony Orchestra isn’t playing the same old thing. Conductor Sergiu Comissiona battles boredom by playing brand-new works and little-heard older ones.
Houston’s First Baptist Church wants to be number one in Texas, and an eye-popping Christmas spectacle is one way it beckons the faithful.
Dropping the aristocratic burden.
The last book by native Texan William Goyen, Arcadio is a weird and wonderful fable about a search for self-acceptance and peace.
They are the quirky enterprises that offer two things under one roof—like shrimp and guns, steaks and loans, or eggrolls and gasoline.
It’s a high-rise developer’s dream. Houston’s old guard wants to turn 34 acres of downtown warehouses into an island of classy shops and pricey condos. They thought they had it wired, until Kathy Whitmire was elected mayor.
Quick! Get out your furs before it gets hot again.
With The Palace of Amateurs, the Plaza Theatre brought a sparkling Mariel Hemingway to Dallas and a lofty new theatrical standard to Texas.
Here’s to the unsung heroes of Eastland: my grandfather and his V.C. menu.
The Supreme Court scores one for Texas against the Yankees; blame the recession on InterFirst; why Phil Gramm makes a great Republican; an oil squabble matches the greedy little independents against poor, starving Big Oil.
A new era for Texas prisons; a new view of Wichita Falls; a new look, alas, for a Dallas street; a new metropolis in East Texas; a new generation of frat rats.
Crosbytown and Texas Tech wanted to harvest a major local resource: the sun. But then the feds stepped in, and the issue switched from energy to power.
Nick Nolte is a journalist dodging bullets and political involvement in Under Fire. The Right Stuff is about Americans, space, and manifest destiny. The Big Chill is a warm look at the cooling of sixties idealism.
Great moments in the conspiracy time line.
After twenty years these are the assassination theories that still survive.
Assassination buffs come in all shapes and convictions—archivists, technologists, mob-hit theorists, and more—but they are all obsessed with Lee Harvey Oswald, and his crime is the focus of their lives.
A great man was dead and an outraged world desperately wanted someplace to lay blame. It chose Dallas and changed the city forever.
Twenty years ago he thrust himself into our lives; he is there yet.
Houston likes to think it discovered Erie Mills, but it’s willing to share the winning young star with the rest of the opera world.
Dueling cornucopias.
In The Desert Rose Larry McMurtry’s heroines never blossom into believable women. The Franchise is a tough tale about graft and the gridiron.
Robert Frank took casual but expressive snapshots that captured dramas of American life and altered the course of modern photography.
Texans are sometimes driven to drink.
To become more than a perpetual boom town, Dallas needs a foresighted leader and astute politician. Is Starke Taylor the man?
It’s a bank-eat-bank world out there.
