Question: If Dallasites were forced to move to another big city out of state (due to the zombie apocalypse, the End of Times, or more reasonably, a job change), what major city would they want to move to? What other major city is most like Dallas? — Ashley M.Full Story
I’ll be honest; I’m hosting a raging New Year’s shindig this eve, and thus I haven’t time to offer my usual dose of wit and wisdom atop this column. Instead, without further ado, another of your requests, submitted via [email protected].
Question: Why does it seem that all drivers in and around Dallas feel they can text and drive 80 miles an hour in the rain? — Suzanne L.
I gather from the impertinent tone of your query that you don’t consider yourself a Dallasite, that you hold yourself both separate from and superior to the other people of this city. Whether that’s because you didn’t yourself have the privilege of originating from here or merely because you foster disdain for the town, I do not know. Nor do I care.Full Story
Likely you will not be surprised that I’ve yet to hear a response from any of the lily-livered members of the Dallas City Council whom I so forcefully challenged last week. Doubtless they were each too intimidated by the thought of having to match up against me to dare to accept. Even though their continued silence is a clear violation of protocol of the code duello, I feel sorry for them — for the many remaining years they shall have to live with their own cowardice, waking up each day to look at themselves in the mirror in the full knowledge that they weren’t man or woman enough to take me on.
In the meanwhile, I’ve returned to address your needs. Keep your requests for information, advice, adjudication, or discussion of teleological ethics coming to [email protected].Full Story
I trust you are all sufficiently recovered from last week’s federally-mandated feasting to pay heed to what I am about to say because I am going to say this but once: D Magazine’s 10 Most Eligible Men in Dallas list is a joke. This ordinarily upstanding periodical purports to present a collection of gentlemen who exemplify the finest specimens of masculinity in our corner of northern Texas, and yet there’s not a single farmer or rancher among them? The only manual laborer in the bunch is a damn Canuck paid to play-act at some form of figure-skating combat. And what the hell is an “events and cultural coordinator?” I’ll bet not a one of these fellows has so much as wrestled a bear in his life. It’s no wonder no women have been willing to have any of this lot for husbands.
I’ve already volunteered to take charge of next year’s search, so as to spare the careless editors at D further opprobrium. I was known as quite the man’s man in my day.
Now, to address your needs, as filed at [email protected].Full Story
I am of two minds about the forthcoming holiday. On the one hand, it was that lousy crook Abe Lincoln — father of the federal income tax, a progressive income tax — who instituted the Day of Thanks Giving as a late November national mandate instead of letting each state handle its own business like the Good Lord and the Founders intended. Maybe Texans don’t like being limited to a single Thanksgiving each year. Maybe we’d rather not do it in the fall. Maybe we’d prefer it on some Sunday morning in May when we might celebrate with a light brunch. The federal jackboots force turkey and gravy and stuffing and cranberry sauce down our gullets and call it freedom? No sir. Not on my watch. Not until I’ve at least been given the option of a mimosa with a small plate of cantaloupe on the side.
On the other hand: pumpkin pie. It’s what the Creator himself eats for dessert.
Now to the business at hand.Full Story
We come to the end of our 40 Greatest Stories series with Nancy Nichols’ tribute to her mother — a tribute that unexpectedly became a farewell. Just read it, and don’t be surprised if you find yourself giving your own mom a call immediately after.
I asked Nancy to share a few thoughts about the piece now that two years have passed since it was published:
When I wrote this story about my mother, she and I were living an active life. I sat down to my computer one night and wrote the piece as more of a diary log. The words just rolled off my fingers. It might have taken me 45 minutes.
I came across it one day and emailed it to my editor, Tim Rogers, with a note that said “just in case we need a short feature.” Tim scheduled for publication.
Between the time I sent the story in and publication, my mother’s pulmonary fibrosis flared up and she died within six weeks. I did manage to get a proof of the words in layout and show it to her several days before she left.Full Story
When reading John Bloom’s July 1987 story, “Misty Crest: On the Frontier of the New American Dream,” what struck me was how strange it was to have a neighborhood in southwest Arlington written up as a hot new development. A-Town seems like an aging former starlet past her prime, while everybody now goes gaga for her much-younger counterparts in Collin County.
Bloom pokes fun at the absurdity of navigating among subdivisions with “Glades” and “Glens,” “Villages” and “Creeks” in their names — regardless whether there are any actual glades or glens or villages or multiple creeks in the vicinity. At the time, one of the homes he ventured out to look at had an asking price of $96,850, about the median for Dallas-Fort Worth at the time. Twenty-seven years later, houses in the same neighborhood are going for somewhat more, but generally sticking pretty close to today’s median.
I asked Bloom what spurred him to write this piece, which we are honoring as one of the 40 greatest stories ever published in D Magazine. He responded:Full Story
Yesterday afternoon, the majority of the D Magazine editorial staff — Tim Rogers, Brad Pearson, Liz Johnstone, Michael “2 Chainz” Mooney, and myself — took a trip to the State Fair of Texas. During a stop to exchange coupons for beers, a young woman, judged by the group to be in the neighborhood of 14 years of age, came up to one member of our party, poked said staffer in the shoulder area, and said, “You’re cute,” before walking out of our lives again, forever. After much gentle ribbing, the staffer in question said, “You would literally be surprised at how often that happens.”
So — who was the author of that incredibly cocky statement?Full Story
By now you’ve met and read about the Dallas 40, members of this community who we believe represent some aspect of what the city has become and how it has transformed during the past four decades. These people represent the face of Dallas today.
But do you? Take this wholly certified, validated, and 100%-money-back-guaranteed quiz to find out.Full Story
Don’t know about you, but one of my regular stops every day is the blog for the Architect’s Newspaper. Yesterday they posted an item about how Mark Lamster is winning hearts and minds in Dallas. They wrote:
Since arriving in North Texas to take up the job of Dallas Morning News architecture critic, Mark Lamster has been under a trial by fire, suffering scrutiny and criticism for everything from his Yankee origin to his unsympathetic take on the city’s built environment. Well, local opinions seem to be warming a bit to the sharp-tongued scribe. In a recent piece in the Dallas Observer, Charles Schultz went so far as to praise how quickly Lamster has come to understand Big D’s development landscape and the insider track around its so-called zoning regulations. Schultz even showed a little contrition for a previous quip: “I apologize for calling him ‘Mark Lamster, New York Pinhead’ when he first showed up.”
Two things about that. 1) Guests who join us tonight at the Rustic for our Best of Big D party will get an early look at our August issue, in which we name Lamster the city’s best critic. So the editors at the Architect’s Newspaper are quite right. And 2) please, everyone, let us forevermore refer to the Observer’s bearded, laconic gadfly as Charles Schultz.Full Story
Look at this smug jerk. Who is typing this sentence and has had about enough of him? Me, that’s who. I’m sure you agree. So many reasons. Here are just a few.
1) He dresses like this every single day. Sunglasses, too. Even if he wasn’t wearing them, he refuses to look anyone in the eye.
2) He’s too good to actually read our blog. Pretty proud of it, really.
3) I can put it in no plainer terms: Tim Rogers of D Magazine hates our troops.
So, when is someone going to come along and put him in his place? I’m sorry I had to air our private business on the blog, but he forced my hand.Full Story
Question: Where does “Love” in Love Field come from? — George L.
Sir, I am tremendously pleased to have received your query, as it affords the opportunity to hold forth upon another of the great injustices and absurdities of Dallas history.Full Story
Question: As the oldest known resident of our little village, and witness to over a century and a half of history, can you offer any explanation for the earthquakes at what we know as the old Texas Stadium plot? Can you clarify the rumor that an old Indian burial ground has been disturbed? What the hell happened there? And why now are the spirits angry? Or is there another explanation for the earth rattling that we might understand with your ancient wisdom? — John B.Full Story
Lee Kleinman is the most courageous member of the Dallas City Council. I am pleased to announce that he is the first — thus far the only — member of that quasi-august body to accept my challenge. He has agreed to face off against me, mano e mano, over heaping bowls of dal makhani at Mughlai. I’ve asked my people to reach out to his people to work out the details. I shall keep you informed as to the progress of this endeavor.
Now, to today’s business.Full Story
I take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, sent to me via [email protected], expressing at the same time my great gratification that its author is numbered among the friends of FrontBurner:
Question: I am 8 years old. Some of my little friends say there is no way an eight-lane toll road can be built inside a levee flood zone. But the bullies say “sure it will fit, now shut up and don’t ask so many questions.” Papa says, “If you see it in D Magazine, and it is written by the ghost of the long-dead city founder, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there going to be an eight-lane toll road inside the majestic Trinity? —VirginiaFull Story
Friends, I must report that my editor and I nearly came to blows this week over the contents of today’s column, which I am officially filing under protest. I badly wished to give his proboscis a good wringing after he required that I supplant the golden prose I had spun for both your entertainment and edification with a tepid pool of my second-best work.
Granted, my second-best work is more satisfying to the mind and the soul than 99.9 percent of the pabulum churned out by other so-called “professional” scribes. That does not change the fact that I must live with the knowledge I have done you a disservice, dear readers. You’ll learn nothing of my extensive knowledge of weaponry or hand-to-hand combat, and all because some yellow-bellied stuffed-shirt down at the D Magazine offices is afraid the company might be charged with inciting a riot or threatening the lives of public officials if we’d run my original, superior text.
Oh, hang it all. Let’s get this nonsense disposed with.Full Story
That’s the claim that Mike Shropshire makes about America’s Team’s annual Turkey Day match, in a piece published today on Slate:
The football aspect has warped Thanksgiving in this region to the point that the success of the family interchange relies mostly on the outcome of the game. I assume that family counselors, emergency rooms, and divorce lawyers see business skyrocket when the Cowboys lose on Thanksgiving.
Sometimes even the most innocent remark can spoil the whole weekend. From past years, I hear the voice of a 7-year-old child. “Mom,” the voice says. “After the Cowboys lost, Dad was in the kitchen and he said the f-word and Grandma heard him.” Mom issues Dad a look of, to be charitable, profound dismay. Unkind remarks ensue, and by the conclusion of the evening, Dad could show Tiger Woods a thing or two about a hard luck Thanksgiving … all because Dallas chose to lose.
I am truly humbled — (Ed.: You mean “honored” (I damn well know what I mean — JNB)) — to see the response elicited by my first foray into the dispensing of well-earned opinions, advisories, and judgments onto the World Wide Web. Most of you magnificently performed your duty of piling missives into the inbox at [email protected], and I shall endeavor to address your queries with all the timeliness of a bow-legged bobcat returning to its native soil during the first moon after the spring equinox to suffer the slow death it deserves for being such an abomination before God.
Some of you, I’m sorry to say, didn’t take my invitation seriously enough. “Boxers or briefs?” What sort of community icon, such that I am, would dare degrade himself by answering such impertinence? And what man in full possession of his faculties wears anything other than boxer-briefs these days?
Onward to more significant inquiries.Full Story
A hippie and the Skipper at City Hall.Full Story
I found myself yesterday in Klyde Warren Park around 6 o’clock with my daughter in tow. It was a lovely evening. Gorgeous weather. Yoga class twisting itself in knots on the lawn. Patio at Savor filled with folks. Dallas Symphony preparing to play on the stage. We were at the playground, where I was pushing my daughter on the merry-go-round. Another girl, looked to be about 10, walked up. I said, “Hop on!” She gave me a blank look. Her dad walked over and said with an accent, “We’re French. She doesn’t speak English.” We struck up a conversation.Full Story
Automated proofreader Grammarly recently held a contest seeking submissions of photos featuring the most egregious grammar mistakes on signs in the Dallas-Fort Worth area. Above you can see the winning entry, and right off the bat I have a complaint.
That sign is obviously filled with purposeful misspellings intended to attract customers’ attention and underline the folksiness of people selling the produce. I think it should have been disallowed rather than given the prize.
Below are the other top entries from North Texas.Full Story
A co-working FrontBurnervian passes along the above video of a cement truck, apparently unhappy about being cutoff in traffic on Interstate 35E in downtown Dallas. If you don’t understand what’s going on at first, stick with it.Full Story
A good time was had by all, I believe, at last night’s Best of Big D party at the Rustic. DJ Sober and Sam Lao were great. The drinks flowed freely. Much food went into many mouths. And so on and so forth. But I will tell you this: before the front moved through, it was a little steamy. The meteorological conditions occasioned my favorite moment of the night:Full Story
You might also consider this post an early plug for our 10 Most Eligible Men in Dallas contest, which will begin in the middle of next month. Sarah Hepola’s funny, thoughtful piece about her adventures in dating men she met online appeared in the February 2013 issue of D Magazine, and it is one of the 40 greatest stories we’ve ever published.
Spoiler Alert: Sarah hasn’t found her Mr. Right by the end of the article, so I asked her how things have been going in that realm since. She replied:Full Story
Job: Real estate. Maybe marketing.
Drives: A massive SUV her dad bought for her.
Wears: Kendra Scott jewelry, Tori Burch accessories, 7 For All Mankind or Citizens of Humanity jeans. A statement necklace if it’s a special occasion.
Listens to: 106.1 KISS FM.
Spends her summers: Being a bridesmaid. She has been a bridesmaid like 15 times.
Celebrity aspiration: Jessica Simpson.
Do you agree? If you don’t, you’re probably basic. Just kidding. Kind of. No, really. Maybe.Full Story