Young Fife: The Lost First Decade

“I used to look at him and say to myself, ‘Now, that’s what I call a white boy!'” wheezes Marcus Hesby, dissolving into a laugh that starts with sheee and ends about 30 seconds later and an octave lower with it. Hesby is an old man now, a retired hod…

Another Story About a Stripper

A lot of people swear they are going to do a lot of things when each new year rolls around. Promises of drastic life changes are ritually made and ritually broken: Money will be saved, bad habits will be curtailed, more attention will be paid, etc. Miss Candy Cantaloupes has…

He Rights the Wrongs

It all started five years ago. This guy, whom we shall call Bob, took a job that entailed sitting in a small cubicle with a computer and a telephone in a large office building in downtown Phoenix. About 40 times a day, that phone would ring and on the other…

Death of a Circle K

I suppose you would have to be on foot, or very bored, or have a sense of observation verging on desperate to notice it. It is another hunk of American refuse–a great, big, ugly, dead thing sitting there at 12th Street and McDowell, as relevant and as fascinating as a…

Mill Rats

If you’ve walked down the ever-expanding boulevard of bland that is Mill Avenue in Tempe, you’ve probably seen them. They stand out in sharp contrast to the tourists, retirees and well-groomed, jolly ASU students; they don’t blend in with the giggling packs of teens or white-coated security forces. Their look…

Blond Ambition

I’m not quite sure of the proper name for what Katherine “Kat” Gallant is wearing. It’s not a teddy, not a bustier exactly; it appears to be made from vinyl, is skin-tight and seems as revealing as a bloody fingerprint. Then there is the garter belt, and the black stockings…

And the Angels Sing?

I always wanted one. A little guy on my shoulder with the wings and sheet outfit, whispering in my ear, giving me tips on positive options, pointing out the stupid moves, keeping the devil and his seductive bag o’ tricks at bay. Heavyweight brainiacs through the ages–Goethe, Milton, Dante and…

Melatonin for Your Sins

God knows, I like to take a handful of pills as much as the next man, especially when they can do really fabulous things. What exactly do I mean by fabulous? Try reversing the aging process, boosting sex drive and inducing sleep. That’s right, I’m talking about what everybody else…

Dr. Crime Lab Returns

You don’t need a doctor to get melatonin. But, for the latest tips on crime prevention, you do need the advice of Dr. Crime Lab. Now, from his spartan cell at the Madison Street Jail, the Doctor fields a few questions from concerned readers. Remember, he’s got decades of criminal…

We’re Number Two!

There is one line that Bob Dylan left out of his immortal ballad “Blowin’ in the Wind”: How many fecal violations does it take/ For a sewage treatment plant to qualify as having the second-best operations in the land? The answer, my friend, is one. And the plant at 91st…

Interview With a Vampire. Sort Of.

This can’t be the place. Even in the darkness of 8 p.m., this is obviously a lovely two-story condo in Mesa, light blue with white trim, all the mod cons. This can’t be the dwelling of a vampire, the home of one of the undead, the digs of a child…

Planet Waves

Alleged backstabbing! Weeping editors! Miffed staff members! Financial strife! Confused readers! Unemployment lines! It’s all part of the topsy-turvy world of publishing, as the folks at Planet magazine have recently discovered. The tabloid is going through changes in both its editorial staff and its content, but just how drastic those…

GUN HO

I’ve never liked guns. Not based on any bleeding-heart-liberal point of view, but simply because they always seemed to be more or less evil. They’re designed to kill things, and though I’ve certainly enjoyed indulging a variety of destructive urges over the years, killing was never high on my list…

GIVE A HOOT. OR TWO.

Hey, I’ve always said that good things come in pairs, right? So I was wrong. I went to the recent grand opening (oy–finally!) of the Valley’s third Hooters restaurant. Or is it a sports bar? Or maybe just a place where a man can relax with his buddies, down a…

WISHING YOU THE BEST

Everybody knows that Phoenix is, quite simply, the best place in the world to live. Whether you’re looking for great weather, a unique cultural spectrum, expressive architecture or just plain friendly folks, this year-round fun capital has it all! And while naysaying summer guests may moan that the Valley of…

DIGGING BURROS

There were 15 of them standing together in the sun. In the dust and dirt, penned up yet blas about the situation, nowhere to go. The flies were taking advantage of this, landing on their noses and clustering about their eyes. But those eyes–gleaming black eight balls of calm and…

ASK DR. CRIME LAB

Like Abigail Van Buren, Joyce Brothers and Xaviera Hollander, Dr. Crime Lab wants to help. He wants to utilize his expertise, his know-how in the world of wrongdoing and advise you, the law-abiding citizen, the potential victim. The only difference between Abby or Dr. Joyce and Dr. Crime Lab is…

STRIP SEARCH

How to describe such men as these? Men of vast and deliberate muscle. Men of spartan, militaristic coifs, men of rigidly cascading hair anointed with mousses of the highest caliber of holding capability. Men of rugged, insouciant, determined countenance. Men with devastating powers of erotic enchantment, capable of deploying a…

OF YUMAN BONDAGE

Imagine my shock when I found out last week that Money magazine had released its annual list of the top 300 U.S. cities to live in, and Phoenix had come in at the lowly 94 slot. Finished third in the entire state of Arizona. That’s third out of three, mind…

HOOKED ON PHOENIX

You can see something a million times before an epiphanous truth hits you, and this is what slammed into my consciousness as I switched on the TV the other day: Andy and Opie. You know what, and whom, I’m talking about. The theme, more familiar than “The Star-Spangled Banner,” and…

PRINGLES äBER ALLES

I came home one night last week and there were two German girls in my house. One was sleeping on the living-room couch. The other was in the backyard drinking one of my Rolling Rocks. And when I say German girls, I mean as in “from Germany.” Monika and Katrin,…

NIGHT IN A LOG CABIN

Say what you like about Van Buren, there’s no denying that a leisurely cruise down this crippled street is not without a certain horrific charm. Even beyond the dazzling side show of cheap whores, beyond the tanned, thin, tattooed, shirtless guys emerging from run-down courts and jaywalking into heavy traffic,…