The Santa Clarita Valley Signal ran this illustration, which I doubt the Plano Chamber of Commerce will want to borrow for its promotional materials.

Santa Clarita, California, has in recent years been having trouble with heroin use among its young people. So the community’s newspaper, the Santa Clarita Valley Signal, turned to leaders in Plano to seek advice on how they beat their own well-documented teen heroin epidemic in the 1990s.

Plano Police Chief Gregory A. Rushin says it’s a never-ending fight:

“We haven’t scaled back at all,” Rushin said, adding every officer brought in and assigned to fight heroin remains committed to that fight 15 years later.

“We added numbers to that (heroin) unit, and we have not reduced any of those numbers,” he said.

“In this battle, we’ve seen no end in sight.”

Plano’s efforts were known as the awesomely named “Operation Rockfest,” because (one assumes) when you’re trying to connect with the kids to get them to stop doing illegal drugs you’ve got to talk to them on their level and some cops had heard that the rock music was popular with the kids.

N.B: The current issue of D Magazine also has an article worth reading about the ways in which Dallas ISD’s Thomas Jefferson High School has been combatting the widespread use of “cheese” heroin. Along with employing stricter enforcement of the law, they recruited a “street team” of students who helped administrators understand the scope of the problem. Unfortunately they may have blown the whole enterprise by not dubbing the group “The Rock Squad.”

However, she sent me a note this morning from her first day. It amused me, and I thought it might amuse you as well.

Please allow me to introduce myself.  My name is Michelle Saunders and I am one of the new spring 2012 interns here at D.  Just how new, you ask?  Keep reading and you’ll understand.Yesterday was my first day and it started off without a hitch, er with relative hitches, well…define hitch (oh wait, that’s my job!).  I left my house in plenty of time and despite typical Dallas traffic, made it to the parking garage a couple of blocks from the office in just enough time to walk there.  Although I’m growing increasingly nervous, I set off with a jaunty step, ready to edit, highlight, slash, and verify.

I call my mom to let her know I’m about to start and I talk to her as I walk…until I trip and eat pavement just one short block from the office. Did I mention I’m on Ross Avenue? In the heart of Downtown? During morning rush hour? Yes, Dallas, that was me, Michelle, who accidentally flashed you as I scrambled to retrieve the contents of my bag, my laptop, phone, and dignity (in that order). Luckily the light changed quickly so I couldn’t see your faces as you sped by me, smirking behind your tinted windows.

I grab my phone and my mother, bless her, is still on the line.

“Where did you go? “ she queries. “Are you in the building now?”

“No mom, I just tripped and fell on my face for all of Dallas to see, but I’m alright. Wish me luck. I’ll call you later.”

I hang up abruptly and hurry as quickly as my bruised knees and wounded pride will let me and arrive five minutes late, thanks to my little accident, and just a little bit (read: a lot) flustered.

Luckily, my editor sets me to work instantly and I begin my task, working happily until I hear brisk footsteps approaching my desk and look up to see Wick Allison, The Wick Allison rapidly approaching my desk.

My heart starts racing and I’m sure my fellow intern and master of ekphrasis, James, can hear it.

I quickly remember the two pieces of advice given us interns regarding Wick at orientation.

1. When Wick asks you to do something for him, you do it.  Instantly.
2. Don’t look him in the eyes. Ever.

Wick introduces himself and I glance briefly into his eyes. He seems nice enough, friendly, even. I don’t want to take any chances though so I quickly lower my gaze to somewhere between his knees and shoes.

Offering me a small slip of paper, he asks me if I know how to create a PDF, a simple enough task.

He reads my frozen face and says “No?” But I remember the first piece of advice about him (see above) and hear myself saying too loudly, “Yes, of course I know how to do that!” Besides, I have made a PDF before…once…a couple of years ago…just not at D…I don’t even know where the scanner is yet…but I’ll figure it out…

“Great!” He says optimistically, leaving me to contemplate the consequences of stretching the Ninth Commandment and wondering if I’ll get fired for asking how and where to make this PDF that I just said I knew how to make.

Luckily, my manager appears like my editorial fairy godmother and guides me to the scanner and shows me the process while counseling me to “Just ask if you don’t know how to do something.” Solid advice. Duly noted.

I slink back to my desk and thankfully, the rest of the day goes off relatively smoothly except for when I accidentally dial the front desk (Hi, Chelsey!) while trying to call a source and struggle to access my work email. (Thanks, James!)

To my dismay, however, I realize that after my first 8 hours, I’ve only gotten 1/3 of my first assignment done and need to come in early the next day to finish it.

After leaving and slowly walking back to the parking garage (one bloody knee is enough for one day, thank you very much!), I proceed to wander around like a mouse in a maze because I can’t for the life of me remember what level I parked on (4g? 5f? 6d? 7z?).  I can only imagine what a kick the security guards are getting as they watch me wander around getting more and more lost, and I’ve almost resigned myself to either swallowing my now non-existent pride and asking for their help, or else spending my first night in a downtown parking garage. Luckily, at that exact moment I find my car, a mere 35 minutes later.

As I sink into the worn seat, I finally breathe a sigh of relief at having made it to the end of the day. Although at times it was trying, I did not have to get anyone coffee, clean any toilets, or comb the famed Michael J. Mooney’s supposedly luxurious locks. So, all things considered, I would say my first day was a success. Here’s to Day Two. —Michelle Saunders

Mom Will Give Son Kidney: When Jace Glenn was four weeks old, he had both his kidneys removed. He has been on dialysis ever since, awaiting an age when he would be old enough to undergo a kidney transplant operation. Now three, all he needs is a donor. He found one in his mom.

Police Officer Saves Women From Car Sinking In Lake: Saturday night, Ngac Do and Nhi Tran took a wrong turn on Dalrock Rd. off I-30 and drove their Honda Civic into Lake Ray Hubbard. A police dash cam caught the rescue.

(H/T Star-Telegram education blog)

The Booker T. orchestra has a chance to perform at Carnegie Hall in May, but the trip will cost about $70,000. The group already has more than $50,000 in the bank, and a good portion of that money came from the H.U.T. Fund. As a proud alum, I’d like to publicly thank Bergren for his generosity.

You can read more about the Booker T. orchestra in the current issues of Preston Hollow People and Oak Cliff People. And you can hear them perform — for free — at 7:30 tomorrow night at SMU’s Caruth Auditorium.

Several months, countless hours, and $1,200 later, Jeppson has 10,000 maps to hand out. He just dropped a few off by our office. I plan on using mine to get home tonight.

Jeppson has lived downtown for 6 years. He currently lives in the beautifully renovated 400 N. Ervay (which I immediately fell in love with and wrote about here). I told him my feelings about the tunnels, and he said he’s neutral. “They’re an asset that already exists, so why close them down?” he says. “Don’t expand them, but don’t close them down.” He’s on a task force that is evaluating the tunnels. He said the group is close to releasing some recommendations. I hope one of those recommendations is to open the tunnels around lunch on Saturdays. I know it won’t happen, but I would really love to be able to get a Salata salad or a Chick-fil-A sandwich without getting in my car.

If you want one of Jeppson’s maps, check out his site here or stop by our office. I’ll have a few at the front desk.

Our list of the most popular features on DMagazine.com in 2011 can’t help but make you hungry, as our dining coverage continued to be the best in the city.

See our top 10 most trafficked stories of the year right here.

Jones had been at SMU for four seasons and is credited with helping the football team to become somewhat respectable. Jean-Jacques Taylor of ESPN Dallas says “Jones’ decision to leave for Arizona State makes SMU a laughingstock. Again.”

Meanwhile, Bleacher Report speculates that SMU entering the Big East may have spurred Jones to move west, because of “quality of life” considerations:

The Big East is going to be a mess and will require a lot of traveling. SMU is in Texas and will be taking several trips to the East Coast to play football games in November and December.

I’m sure when Jones heard the words freezing and snow, he remembered his coaching days in Hawaii and found the first flight out. In fact, every place Jones has coached in for the most part has great weather, including San Diego when he was a quarterbacks coach for the Chargers.

And the Arizona Republic warns that the ASU gig isn’t exactly a football coach’s “dream job”:

ASU fans expect the unrealistic. Old-timers resist new logos and pine for the good old days under Frank Kush, forgetful that it was a different time and a different country back then. The younger generation is impatient and half-vested. A school official sagely says ASU leads the nation in fans who scream their dissatisfaction from the couch.