Texas Monthly Reporter
The unhealthy politics of emergency medicine; according an accordionist his due; sucking it up for Lite beer; the condo boom that went bust.
The unhealthy politics of emergency medicine; according an accordionist his due; sucking it up for Lite beer; the condo boom that went bust.
Paper tigers.
The Fabulous Thunderbirds storm away on a new album that shows why they’re Texas’ hardiest rhythm and blues band. Eight more releases capture everything from mandolin picking to Balinese monkey chants.
Gandhi presents its title character as all but a god and India as all but a paradise. Starstruck is a lark; Sophie’s Choice is a letdown.
They’re where you went to get your hair cut or to see a picture show or to watch the squirrels on the courthouse lawn.
Charlie Brooks was the first man to die by lethal injection, but everyone wondered whether he or his partner was the real murderer. In his last days, Brooks answered that, and other questions.
And I’m telling you, if you can’t batter it, fry it, spike it with chiles, or bathe it in buttermilk, it’s not worth your time.
Texas opera lovers would have ended the season happily just having seen a lively Rosenkavalier, a magical Rheingold, and a fiery Wozzeck. But then the Houston Grand Opera’s Pagliacci came along and took their breath away.
Dale Steffes can predict the future of the oil business. So why do the majors turn a deaf ear? Because, says Steffes, the news is all bad.
What’s next?
Texas women write about crop dusters and frozen custard and the Dallas-Forth Worth International Airport in the encouraging new anthology Her Work. Life Sentences, though, is a flimsy feminist exercise.
Twelve ran, Mike Andrews won. A saga of ambition, money, power, courage, and the nature of urban politics in Texas.
Every year communities scattered across Texas hold wet-dry elections. Each one pits the forces of fundamentalism against the forces of realism. This is the story of one such election.
Animal magnetism.
One giant step for wives; one small step for John Glenn; why oilmen will never rule the world; why the new Texas congressmen won’t either.
Banned in the schools, school kids in the band.
Two newspapers in search of nothing in particular; a fish story with a happy ending; an eleven-letter word for “crossword puzzle whiz”; the cutting edge of Corpus Christi’s minority politics.
A slice of life.
The sweetheart of the Apparel Mart: where she came from and where she’s going.
Paul Newman stars as an existential ambulance chaser in The Verdict, a dismal study of law and disorder. Best Friends will alienate you; Heartaches will make you feel good. 48 Hrs. is dirty talk and deja vu.
Thanks to indulgent parents, many of today’s wealthy kids are disdaining dorms for UT-area condos - and forfeiting what may be the best part of a college education.
Presenting blazing barbecue, bumbling Bush, blaspheming Baptists, and 118 more of the best of the worst of Texas.
Negative utopias.
In The Path to Power Robert Caro brings the Texas of the twenties and thirties to hot, scrubby life, but tries to fit the young Lyndon Johnson into a prefabricated and constricting mold.
A spectacular show at the Dallas Museum of Fine Arts reexamines the genius of El Greco.
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.