If you see some windows being blown out today across Commerce from the Municipal Courts Building, it’s not terrorists. It’s The Good Guys filming. There may even be some propane flares involved in the activity scheduled until 3 p.m.
Later tonight they’ll be moving up Commerce to St. Pete’s Dancing Marlin for filming and “no pyro will be used at this location.”
Readers, I ask you: what have you done to celebrate Idea Week? If the answer is “nothing,” you and I both know you should be deeply ashamed. Thank goodness you have a chance to redeem yourselves tonight with a lecture about the state of the arts in Dallas, led by KERA’s Jeff Whittington and public-art expert Anne Pasternak.
Alternatively, you could drop off your adolescent sons and daughters at the Dallas Contemporary for Teen Night and then support the culinary arts by attending this lovely-sounding wine dinner at Parigi. But if you want to know my top pick for this evening, you’ll jump to the next page.
A walking FrontBurnervian tells us what happened last night at Primo’s:
Derek Holland walked in. We didn’t recognize him. Inside the window, a girl and guy (in a Vlad Guerrero t-shirt) started getting their picture taken with him. Our waitress came out to deliver our drinks and we asked, “Who is that guy?” She said, “Oh, that’s Derek Holland. He just ordered a bottle of champagne for every table.” The rest of my table missed that part somehow, and I kept mum until they started trotting out bottles of Moet two by two and dropping them off at each table, saying, “Courtesy of Derek Holland of the Texas Rangers.” That was pretty much that. No muss, no fuss. Just drinks for strangers.
How cool is that?
Last night, I was lucky enough to be in attendance at the fourth installment of Pecha Kucha Night. At least the fourth here in Dallas. The idea started in Tokyo and similar events happen all over the world. I happen to have some thoughts, so let’s go ahead and jump in case it gets long and I forget to click the button that makes a click-thru and everyone gets mad at me for dominating the page. And jump over here to FrontRow, where Peter Simek has some thoughts, too.
As you are no doubt aware, this Friday is homecoming at my alma mater, the Cistercian School for Wayward Boys. Gimme an H! Gimme an O! Gimme an X! What’s that spell?! (Trust me. It was hysterical back in 1988.) Anyway, in conjunction with the homecoming game, which will pit the Hawks of Cistercian against, um, another team of football players (I follow Cistercian’s athletic endeavors religiously), the school will hold a silent auction. As a distinguished alumnus, I was asked to donate an item on which the faithful might bid. Here’s the official description of the “item” I came up with:
“A year’s subscription to D Magazine — hand delivered to your house by Tim Rogers, the editor of the magazine. Tim will make arrangements to meet you at your door at a time of your and his convenience, whereupon he will give you a quick behind-the-scenes tour of that issue, perhaps explaining how the cover was shot, etc. Caveat: the winner must live within the 635 loop (because Tim ain’t making 12 trips to Prosper in a year’s time). If the subscriber lives farther afield, the subscription will be hand-mailed by the editor, accompanied each month by a personal note written lovingly to the subscriber on a manual Royal Arrow typewriter, just like the one Hemingway once used.”
Now then. When several of my co-workers learned about this, they mocked me. “You’re losing your hair!” they said. “And, besides, no one is going to bid on that stupid item. No one likes you.” It’s a supportive work environment up here at D Magazine. So I set an over-under on the dollar amount that my auction item will sell for. They all took the under. Wagers were waged.
Here’s where you come in. I’m not asking you to bid on the hand-delivered subscription because you like you and want to meet me. Quite the contrary. We all know you hate me as much as my co-workers do. And as much as you don’t want to see me win this bet, you know it’ll be a total pain my ass to drive over a magazine to your house every month for a year. So stick it to me.
Not going to the game? I’m sure they’d accept a bid by phone or e-mail. The school: 469-499-5400. And Robin Springer (RSpringer_at_sagiss.com) is the auction chair.
On Saturday, October 23, the Woodall Rodgers Park people are putting on a pretty cool free event. The first enormous deck park support beam will be installed, so they’re throwing a free picnic, with BBQ from Sammy’s and a bounce house and the whole deal. You’ll even get a chance to sign the beam before it’s dropped into place. After the jump, details on the picnic and what you’ll see when they lower the beam.
1. There was a yellow, sticky substance left all over Azle ISD’s locker room. Some think it was urine. But that’s not confirmed. I bet it was just lemonade. Or mango smoothie. Either one.
2. These twin brothers created a business fixing video games and selling them for cheap. They made $300,000 last year. They think they’ll make $500,000 this year. They live at their parents’ house. They don’t plan on leaving. I don’t get it.
3. There’s good news for young Jack Pittman-Heglund’s family. After falling into a coma last week, he woke up. He still has a long road to recovery, but this is a good start. And it’s obvious that he has strong community and family support.
Well, well. In tomorrow’s paper, you’ll find this endorsement of Danny Clancy by the Dallas Morning News editorial board. In making their decision, the paper says:
Despite a few early missteps, Watkins’ compelling work as a change agent convinced us to name him our 2008 Texan of the Year. The recognition, though, came with caveats: Watkins still must mature in this job and must guard against believing his own hype, we wrote at the time.
Unfortunately, the district attorney has failed on both counts.
While his good work overshadowed his sometimes poor judgment during the first half of his term, the reverse has been true during the last two years. Watkins, 42, has become too political, too vindictive and too stubborn to be effective.
His judgment and behavior have been in steady decline, as evidenced by unseemly and seemingly endless battles with commissioners over everything from the budget to a butterfly garden.
Yes, the paper goes on to mention some of Clancy’s strong points, but this endorsement is more a condemnation of Watkins than it is a recommendation of Clancy.
You think Eric Celeste made the right decision to quit the campaign? I do.
Unfortunately, I can’t tell you how I accomplished that. I mean, I can, but I’m not going to. I will tell you it involves a temple in an underground pyramid, a murderous cult long thought wiped off the face of the earth, and my boarding school roommate. Or maybe I just described some of the plot elements of Young Sherlock Holmes. You’ll never know.
Cafe Racer, anyone? No? It’s on Discovery HD. Anyway, tonight they’re showing footage of the Rockers vs. Mods event that happened here back in March. Here is a tease of said footage.
Remember back in 2008 when Dubai International Capital offered to buy Liverpool for £500 million? I bet he wishes now that he’d taken the deal. Because it looks like he might be forced to sell for $476 million. Going back and figuring out what the pound-to-dollar conversion rate was in 2008 so that an apples-to-apples comparison can be made is above my pay grade. But suffice to say that he left some quid on the table.
Comes news that Twin Peaks‘ provocatively clad waitresses won’t be setting up shop in the conservative, affluent suburb. Instead owner Randy DeWitt has invented a new concept — a family-friendly sports bar called Red Dog Right.
Meanwhile, Texas Agriculture Commissioner Todd Staples has declared October “Hog Out Month: Get The Hog Outta Texas!” because of the wild creatures eating the lush lawns of Southlake’s rich Republicans.
An alert FBvian points us to this George Will story in Newsweek about ExxonMobil head honcho Rex Tillerson and his view on energy consumption. It begins:
Published at the apogee of Barack Obama’s apotheosis, the April 2009 issue of Condé Nast Portfolio, a business magazine, faulted ExxonMobil for not joining the green parade, for not investing more in alternative energies, and for not understanding oil’s eclipse as humanity emancipates itself from carbon-based energies. The magazine said “the company’s prospects for the next decade or two are starting to look shaky.”
Later that month, the magazine died. ExxonMobil lives.
[Hops in Prius, tries to peel off to show distaste for Big Oil, can't generate enough torque to squeal tires.]
Feel free to criticize them or add your own over here.
Morning, all. I’d like to direct your attention toward the Carrotmob Texas launch party tonight at La Grange. Let’s put aside A) Carrotmob’s social/environmental agenda and B) the fact that this event is part of Idea Week. I’d imagine some of you are tired of being preached at, yes? Broken down to its basic elements—live music, hot food (I’m looking at you, mushroom melt and sweet potato fries), a full bar, and free parking—this promises to be a great party. If I weren’t stuffed to the gills with cold medicine, I’d be right there with you. Alas, you must somehow make it through the evening without me. Please send photos.
Looking for something more refined? Then check out this clever little wine and cheese party at The House. The organizers pick an animal and a country, and you supply corresponding wine and cheeses. Good times.
Or, if you’re determined to learn, once and for all, how to apply makeup like a grown-up, you’ll want to be at L.Bartlett tonight (and snag a tip sheet for me while you’re at it, please).
Browse these other things to do in Dallas, and have a great night.