Aren’t public spaces fun? Finally, Dallas builds a worthwhile one, one that actually gets the people of this city to use it and spend time in it, and what happens? Our prissy side comes out. The side of Dallas that says, “Sweep it up, and keep it clean.”  The side of Dallas that buries pedestrian ways and tries to segregate foot and vehicular traffic. The side of Dallas that reminds us that, at heart, Dallas is a valet town.
Let’s put it this way. Remember when you were about 7 or 8 years old, and your mom or dad’s old friend from college — let’s call him Burt — well, Burt came to visit? And your mom or dad said, “Hey, this is ‘Uncle Burt.’” And you thought, “Burt is not my uncle.” And Burt smelled, and Burt had real weird teeth, and he drank too much, and he laughed from his diaphragm and kept asking you to sit on his lap? Remember how afraid you were of Burt? Then what happened?
Well, for one. Burt went away because he was only visiting. And then, what happened when he came the next time? Well, Burt wasn’t as scary because you remembered him. Burt still wasn’t fun to be around, but you could handle him a little better. You went to your room after dinner. You knew how to half smile and how to take a step away from him so he wouldn’t get too friendly. You pretended you were a little more shy than you actually were. And then Burt, who really just wanted to drink with your dad and talk about the good old days, left you alone. And you, well, you just walked away. And then, when you grew up, you found out Burt had studied all sorts of crazy things — like mirco-ecologies of algae in the Great Barrier Reef — and you found out that Burt was kind of cool in his own odd way.
Well, you see, the homeless guys at Main Street Garden — they’re Burt. Your big papa, Dallas, has been friends with them for a long, long time. I know, it’s the first time you’ve had to actually spend some time in the living room with all these Burts, but don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. You’ll learn how to brush him off, or engage in brief, polite chatter. Maybe he’ll make you laugh because, you know, he’s actually kind of funny. Maybe someday you’ll find out what Burt likes to eat or dreams about while sleeping on that park bench. Or maybe you’ll just get by by figuring out how to give Burt the polite cold shoulder. Either way, it’s going to be okay. You’ll get it. I know. It takes time.
Now jump to watch the first 10 minutes of the documentary Dark Dayz, which you all must now rent. Don’t worry, Premiere Video has it. That’s in a strip center. There’s usually ample parking.
The strangest thing about this story isn’t that Cowboys wide receive Roy Williams has filed suit to get back the engagement ring he gave to his former live-in, Brooke Daniels. It’s that he sent the ring and his marriage proposal to her in the mail. I thought proposing on the Jumbotron at a game was bad. Who proposes via mail? I mean, like, besides lovestruck G.I. fighting overseas in World War II?
Maybe it was the scorching, high-90s heat. Or the four bicycle cops jawboning on the sidewalk outside the Lily Pad Cafe. But, for whatever reason, the homeless people at downtown’s Main Street Garden at noon today were in no mood to discuss Angela Hunt’s “anti-bums-in-the-park” tweets.
One of them, a middle-aged woman on a shaded bench, said she’d already talked to a reporter, yesterday. Another, a young guy sitting under a tree, said as long as there are no walls or fences around Main Street Garden, it wouldn’t be fair–or legal–to keep anyone out. “Who is the owner of the park?” he asked indignantly, adding that he didn’t want to give his name. “If it’s the city or the United States of America, everyone has the right.”
Actually, the city does own the $17.5 million park. Businessman Mark Noble, who co-chaired Main Street’s founding committee, said problems like the one Hunt referenced should ease over time as the park–the first of several planned by the city–matures and attracts more activity. Main Street Garden is “really the first rattle out of the bag,” said Noble, who’s no longer associated with the park.
This week, thanks to Hunt, the rattle was making a pretty loud racket.
It was the book that thrust Larry McMurtry, the dean of Texas literature, into the American mainstream. And it was the movie that, in 1971, garnered eight Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Adapted Screenplay. And now McMurtry says it was a “spiteful” book that took just three weeks to write and was intended to “lance some of the poisons of small-town life,” and that Cybill Shepherd, the young (in 1971) chest-bearing star of the film, “couldn’t act a lick.” He did note, however, that she was “real pretty.” More, including video of McMurtry talking before a recent screening of the film in Archer City, here.
I have to admit, when I read the first graph of this story, my first thought was, “Man, that’s a lot of drawers.” I mean, $2,500 worth of britches and bras is a lot, right? And then I read the breakdown of what Audrey Edwards allegedly took and how much it cost, and I realized I buy my lingerie at Target, where $2,500 would probably empty the shelves.
She also took some sweatshirts and pants. But what disappoints me is that she made no cool move toward subterfuge. She just draped the purloined panties and other goods over her arm and walked out of the store.
You disappoint me, Audrey. Allegedly.
If you ever wonder why many people across the country hate the Dallas Cowboys, then have a look at this. An alert FrontBurnervian points us to the news that the team has licensed the image of Captain America and other Marvel superheroes in order to make the ugliest t-shirts ever. Years from now there will be a tsunami somewhere on the planet, and thousands of people will be left homeless. Expect to see those poor souls wearing these t-shirts.
Is anyone else feeling the post-holiday lull here? Just me? Wonderful, moving right along.
I swear, I’m not just talking about this because I’m lazy and I could potentially walk to this place from my apartment. Sangria Tapas y Bar is celebrating the first day of the festival of San FermÃn (you know, the thing with all the bulls that happens in The Sun Also Rises) with fifty cent sangria all evening long. Really. I’m excited, because I have dragged almost everyone I know, including my cousin who normally resides in San Antonio, to a somewhat awful restaurant in New York called Empanada Mama just for their sangria. I love this stuff. And it’s fifty cents. The bar’s regular flamenco guitarist Josh Goode will perform, and if we’re all lucky someone will think to bring castanets.
Meanwhile in Oak Cliff, there’s Oil and Cotton’s weekly Wednesday drawing class for us adults whose stick figures need serious help. Dallas artist Rebecca Carter, who exhibits frequently at 500x Gallery, is teaching the class, and all you have to do is choose an object you’d like to work with and drop in. I’m also going to go ahead and suggest that a trip to Lockhart Smokehouse is in order, if you haven’t made it that way already. Daniel Vaughn reviewed the Bishop Arts barbecue joint for our June issue, but I say, go for the Kreuz sausage.
For more things to do tonight, go here.
As Tim said, Twitter is pretty powerful. Take, for example, Angela Hunt’s weekend tweets about the “bums” in Main Street Garden. Based on what she had to say, it looks like some changes may be coming to Main Street Garden. But I do take issue with some of what’s being said about the homeless in the park.
I use the park every day. It’s where I met most of my friends. It’s where I take the dog for exercise. And, yeah, it’s where I run into some homeless. But I rarely find them aggressive. Most of the time, they’ll make a comment about the dog, and that’s it. Sometimes, I’ll engage them in conversation. (Some of the best conversations I’ve had occurred out there with homeless people.) And sometimes, but rarely, they ask me for money. But if I say I don’t have cash, they leave it at that. The only real problem that comes from them hanging out there is that they’ll leave chicken bones behind, which is really dangerous for the dogs. But I don’t avoid the park because of the homeless population.
This Friday is a special day at D Magazine because of something Wick said two years ago. The staff at the time was just really starting to embrace to Twitter, which Wick thought was a waste of time. He confidently proclaimed, “Twitter will be dead in two years.” This Friday marks two years since that proclamation. I will make a bold prediction of my own: Twitter will not die between now and Friday. I base my prediction in part on this Wall Street Journal story that says Twitter is worth $7 billion.
P.S.: Follow me @timmytyper. Gotta stay ahead of Zac.
P.P.S.: Krista will be along in a minute with a story about Councilwoman Angela Hunt and the power of Twitter.
Dallasite To Tweet Space Shuttle Launch. Jason Major, who lives in Uptown, was randomly selected to Tweet Friday’s space shuttle launch. His reaction to being selected: “I couldn’t imagine that I was ever going to go to one of these things. This is going to be huge for me … to just bask in all of that awesome ‘spaceiness.’” Awesome spaceiness. Love it. Follow him at twitter.com/JPMajor.
People Shoot Fireworks at Police, Photojournalist. I’m impressed by News 8 photographer Robert Flagg’s tenacity. Even though people were shooting fireworks at him, he kept filming. Police waited for backup before they could address the situation. Unfortunately, the police weren’t able to catch anyone. So now they’re investigating to figure out who all was involved.
Craigslist Robbers Attack in Carrollton. Recently, at least four people who have tried buying something on Craigslist in Carrollton have been robbed. One man, a pre-med student at UTA, lost $1,200 which means he can’t buy his books for the semester. I recently told a friend to check Craigslist for an apartment. Haven’t heard from him in a couple days. I’m sure everything’s fine.