Megalopolitan Life

It’s like a Disneyland of debauchery here: Not only does Gene’s serve up some mighty tasty hickory-smoked barbecue, but it shares space with a topless bar, a flea market and a psychic. This gleaming white trailer sits in the parking lot of the Candy Store exotic dance club, an ambitious piece of asphalt that’s also home to Paradise Valley Swap Meet. But not only is this a bargain mecca, it’s run by folks who happily read our palms while we take a break from shopping. Oh, and if we’ve got an important document to be notarized, they do that, too.

Gene makes his ‘cue from scratch, smoking tender brisket, beef, pork, pork ribs and chicken (breast, of course) for 10 hours. The thick, sweet sauce is Gene’s own creation, too. He says the recipe is a secret, but we’ve been thinking we might be able to work out a deal with the on-site psychic.

After more than a decade in its Antoine Predock building, this museum is showing the Valley what a broad, inclusive phrase “contemporary art” can be. Despite a thin bottom line, ASU’s art museum has assembled stellar exhibitions of crafts alongside intriguing shows by the likes of Shirin Neshat, Lucio Muniain and Andreas Gursky. These names aren’t likely to bring in the Arizona crowds, but they’re ones worth knowing. Their appearance proves that budgets don’t define an institution’s mission — vision does.

Maybe it’s all the couples who seem to glide by, holding hands, chatting effortlessly, on their way from one fancy store to the next. Or perhaps it’s the large fountain, surrounded by bright flowers. Take a first date to this little wine-and-cheese shop at Biltmore Fashion Park (the salads ain’t bad, either), and you won’t have to worry about using your best lines. Sit beneath the misters outside, sip a glass of red wine, and pucker up.

There’s a place in the West Valley where Will and Susan Hoskyns turn frowns upside down.

Not only does the dentist offer a “comprehensive cosmetic practice,” which whitens smiles with veneers and fixes the mouths of people who grind their teeth, he offers an entire office full of precious art that makes people feel like they’ve stepped into Europe during centuries past.

Hoskyns bought a practice in Litchfield Park, then went to work on new offices featuring masterpiece artworks, including an early 1700s Italian copy of a painting called The Entombment; a fireplace from the Directoire period that was found in the province of Poitou-Charentes and shipped to this country in 16 pieces; and a pair of French doors that survived the Paris flood.

The dentist specializes in high-profile and celebrity clients who can secretly slip into the West Valley and stay at the five-star Wigwam Resort while he gives them million-dollar smiles.

Here you will find an elegant Chinese dog from 206 B.C., created during the Han dynasty and collected from an antiquities dealer in Salisbury, England. And a piece on the fireplace is Spanish, a statue of Christ sitting on the Bible, done in the 1600s.

In the past 12 months, the sky has fallen on many of Phoenix’s sports superstars. Jason Kidd, Aeneas Williams, Keith Tkachuk and Jeremy Roenick have all been sent down the road. The only local sports team not in a total rebuilding mode is the Arizona Diamondbacks. Pitchers Randy Johnson and Curt Schilling have had their usual superb seasons, and free-agent acquisition Mark Grace has been nothing short of stellar. But one player looms larger than the rest: Luis Gonzalez. The trade that brought Gonzo to Arizona from Detroit for Karim Garcia in 1999 didn’t get as much press as the Randy Johnson signing or the Curt Schilling trade, but it may have been the deal that put the Diamondbacks over the top. Not only has Gonzalez’s batting average hovered around the .340 mark this season, but he had 51 home runs at press time. He was voted to the starting lineup for the National League in the All-Star Game (and won the Home Run Derby over Barry Bonds and Sammy Sosa, to boot), and was named NL Player of the Month in April and June.

All this, and he’s the father of 3-year-old triplets, too. Anyone who can handle the pressures of the media spotlight and the home front has to be a star in our book.

When it comes to baseball, you can sit with the roof closed, far, far away from the field. Or you can wait for the weather to cool and sit front-row center, close enough to hear catchers mutter to umps, “How many fingers you see me holding up?” We’ve never been able to figure why this extraordinary peek at baseball’s future gamers doesn’t draw larger crowds. But those with baseball savvy know this league for its one-day Hall of Famers — Derek Jeter and Nomar Garciaparra are two — who’ve knocked its chunky red dirt from their shimmering cleats. The league’s six teams, comprising farm and first-year talents from major league clubs, play at five Cactus League stadiums from October through the second week in November. It’s baseball the way it should be, played on green grass in bright sunlight.

Metro Network traffic stud Gregg Paul is pissed off. After serving in Desert Storm during the first Bush administration, he returned to Arizona and scored a five-minute commentary spot on KZON’s afternoon show, where he tells it like he sees it — always in an honest and unforgiving tone. The son of a West Valley blue-collar father, Paul’s Everyman rants are often justified and always legitimate. His ongoing, on-air temper tantrums cover politics, race and general social injustice and are delivered uninterrupted and with no indication that he didn’t mean every syllable he just wailed. Paul doesn’t report the news, he reacts to it — whether we like it or not. As Paul himself would say, “That’s the fact, Jack!”

What passes for “live” TV news these days too often consists of shots of a place where something exciting happened hours ago, and the only thing close to “live” is the reporter in front of the camera. But when it comes to delivering real breaking news, reporting without a script from the scenes of fires, explosions, shootings or whatever, Meeks is head and shoulders above his mere hairdo competitors. He is adept at speaking extemporaneously into the camera, giving all the salient facts in clear, grammatical sentences without stumbling over words or hemming and hawing. No looking like he’s about to cry at tragic scenes, no acting all hyped up by the excitement of it all, no appearing more concerned about his hairstyle or clothing than delivering information. Just journalism, thank you very much.

When Channel 10 announced it was beginning a one-hour newscast at 9 p.m., we expected lots of slow talking, meaningless stories and chitter-chatter just to fill the time. But this show is none of that, thanks to John Hook. A former Valley TV reporter, Hook knows what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t come off as too serious or self-absorbed. He can even deliver the goofy stories and mandatory Fox show promotions with the right amount of sarcasm and amusement, sans annoying giggles. Hook manages to tell us the news — lots of it — in a believable (and, yes, sometimes entertaining) way. And that’s all we ask for in a newscaster.

All it takes is one scroll through the baby animal pictures on this nonprofit sanctuary’s Web site, and we’re head over heels in love. The photos are just a few examples of the injured or orphaned wildlife rescued and rehabilitated by Southwest Wildlife, including gray foxes, coyotes, raccoons, wolves, bobcats, mountain lions, deer, javelina and black bears. Since 1994, Southwest Wildlife has successfully released 70 percent of the thousands of wild animals cared for at its 10-acre desert habitat. Volunteering takes dedication, consistency and a minimum of six hours a week, helping as animal keeper, clinic assistant, educational speaker, groundskeeper, office assistant or rescuer. Hard work, yes, but worth it when a baby bear can be returned happy and healthy to its forest. And since it’s illegal to have wild animals as pets, volunteers get a rare chance to get to know these creatures in a helpful way.

Elvis has not left the building. The entertainer extraordinaire is alive and in full, glittery color at Casino Arizona. You can see the mighty pelvis-twister in all his glory at shows — 7:30 and 9:30 p.m. Wednesdays through Sundays — in the cushy lounge. And the price is very good: free. Sometimes, we even get an extra glimpse, as the King sweeps through the gaming rooms and bars to promote his shows, trailed by a bevy of gold-lamé-bedecked beauties.

Thank you, Casino Arizona. Thank you very much.

Yummy and cheap. Those two factors give the nod to Harkins. While not quite at the haute-cuisine level of the trendiest California movie concessions stands, Harkins does offer a nice specialty-coffee selection, hot dogs, nachos and plenty o’ candies. But the deals on basics are steals: Buy a large drink for $3.50 and get $1 refills the rest of the year when you bring back your souvenir cup. Buy a large bag of popcorn for $4.25 and get one free refill. And if you don’t mind being a Harkins geek, wear your $20 Harkins tee shirt for free popcorn all year round. Given that the price of good eats at most theaters can easily exceed the price of admission, the deals are enough to hearken to Harkins.

Although usually associated with funky retro furniture for budget-minded urbanites, Z Gallerie’s separate roomful of framed paintings, drawings and photographs is a gold mine for wanna-be art aficionados. Sift through a stack of prints by anyone from Ansel Adams to Kandinsky to van Gogh or pull a framed reproduction from the wall for less than what you paid for air conditioning last month. And suddenly the wall over your couch has a whole new classic vibe. Unlike most home-decor stores where the art is scattered in bland places across the showroom or clustered with empty wedding frames, Z Gallerie’s art room looks more like a casual, pseudo-museum with a constantly changing selection. All prints come framed, although Z Gallerie can send yours out for a new mat-and-frame job, if you like.

It’s easy to scoff at the thought of staring up at the sky through a hole in a building not much bigger than an outhouse. But this best new view — named after the museum’s former director, Robert Knight, and created by artist James Turrell and architect William Bruder — reveals the delicious spins that great artists can put on the commonplace. The elliptical room is a wide telescope that beams the eye far beyond the curved seats and walls. We recommend viewing this wonderful work at sunset. As day fades, the hole jumps to life as a medallion of changing, vivid colors. Your eyes adjust, and you find yourself staring at a deep, surprising glow of night.

Have you had it up to your disposable camera with Western-themed tourist traps featuring fake cowboy shoot-outs and chuck-wagon dinners served in mining pans?

Then dare to look beyond the obvious at Somewhere Over the Rainbow, a three-acre oasis of oddities near Cave Creek and Sweetwater roads, assembled by 77-year-old retiree Gus Brethauer. He has spent the past 25 years turning his property into a glorious pack rat paradise, and these days, he gladly gives tours in return for a voluntary donation.

The kids will enjoy highlights like a UFO landing pad, a prehistoric Temple of Doom, a grove of artificial Christmas trees (complete with plastic forest denizens), a “haunted” bungalow, and a mirror maze fashioned from discarded reflective surfaces. Older visitors will get a kick out of old Phoenix rubble — decorative plastic “WP” trim from West Plaza Shopping Center and a stone gargoyle from the old Fox Theatre. Come prepared to walk (tours through the desert terrain take about two hours), and leave your disbelief at home.

Several months after 14-year-old Sean Botkin was arrested for holding a classroom full of Glendale elementary school students hostage at gunpoint, the boy’s mother talked to reporters about his upcoming trial. An optimistic Cary Botkin said Sean’s lawyer hoped to persuade the court to try her son as a juvenile, rather than as an adult, because that strategy represented “our best shot.”

Later in the same broadcast, Lin Sue Cooney offered an update on an effort to remove Tempe Mayor Neil Giuliano from office: Among other charges, the openly gay politico was under fire for pulling city employees’ support of the United Way, which funds the anti-gay Boy Scouts of America. Commenting on Giuliano’s reaction to the recall movement, Cooney told viewers that the mayor “will not go down without a fight.”

We’re trusting you not to spoil this, to tell only whom you must: The recently constructed SR 153 takes you from University Drive at Priest, past Sky Harbor Airport, and over to Washington Street at 44th Street in less than two minutes with zero traffic. That’s it. We sometimes weave from one side of this three-lane highway to the other, just because we can. Its traffic sign announces “Sky Harbor Airport,” throwing off commuters who are unaware of the pot-o’-downtown-access gold awaiting them on this road less traveled. Beware — there’s a decoy that still tricks us during some bleary-eyed mornings: Just one block east of University’s 153 entrance, there’s a ramp to the 143 — a potentially fatal error that launches you straight into the road-rage hell of Interstate 10.

On Seinfeld, Elaine was so smitten by the Soup Nazi’s offerings that she withstood his abuse and capricious behavioral requirements. We won’t go so far as to imply a Scone Nazi exists in the Valley, but let’s just say you do what you have to do to get what you need at Kohnie’s. Kohnie’s scones are so good — they’re usually gone by 8 a.m. — that they tend to inspire irrational loyalty and perseverance in customers. Kohnie, the proprietor, is gleefully unapologetic when he runs out of scones or whatever else you’re craving. A “regular” who walks in after you will get served first — you got a problem with that? And then there’s the matter of the no-man’s-land time between breakfast and lunch when you can’t have either. Just a bowl of granola, please? I can see it from here, sitting in that jar, no cooking needed, you plead. Nope, breakfast is over, Kohnie grunts. Okay, what about a sandwich? No can do, says Kohnie triumphantly; lunch doesn’t start for 20 more minutes. Defeated, you walk away. You’d better learn the rules if you want to eat here. (But once you do, it’s worth it.)

Looking for a god? Any god? For just $2, you can have your own Buddha — or choose from a plethora of other gods immortalized in wood, plastic, porcelain and brass at the Oriental Factory Direct. Among the weird statuettes are pudgy, baby-faced kung-fu fighters donning sunglasses and cute little deadly weapons. For quiet but constant affirmation, try one of the “bobble-head” dolls in traditional Chinese costume. Their big heads are on springs, so the slightest breeze sends them nodding every which way. Quirky items are side by side with beautiful silk dresses and intricate jewelry. The outlet also has a robust collection of Asian books, videos, DVDs and music. Whether you’re looking for a path to enlightenment or just a cool frock to wear next Saturday night, you’ll find it here.

Ancient Chinese secret, huh? Last year, the Southwest Institute of Healing Arts became an officially accredited college, offering diplomas in Therapeutic Massage, Western Herbalism and — our favorite — Oriental Bodywork. In the Institute’s hallowed halls of healing, you can enroll in classes such as “Chinese Face Reading” and the always popular “Chi Gung for the Spine: Bend the Bow and Shoot the Arrow.” Tuition ranges from $800 for a hypnotherapy degree to $8,000 to become a Master Massage Practitioner. Which beats heck — but only barely — out of Arizona State University’s liberal arts program.

Best Movie Theater Snacks
Harkins Theatres

Best News Station
KTVK-TV Channel 3

Best Politician
John McCain

Best Professional Athlete
Luis Gonzalez

Best Pro Sports Team
Arizona Diamondbacks

Best Radio Personality
Krazy Kid and Ruben S.
KISS-FM 104.7

Best Spanish Language TV Station
Telemundo

Best Tourist Trap
Rawhide Western Town and Steakhouse
23023 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale
480-502-1880

Best TV Newscaster
Brad Perry

In his native Kazakhstan, International Boxing Federation cruiserweight champion Vassily Jirov learned to develop his boxing footwork by being forced to outrace angry police dogs down a narrow hallway. By comparison, facing a 190-pound pugilist in the boxing ring has to seem like a snap. Sure enough, the self-proclaimed Russian Tiger — who moved to Scottsdale in 1996 after winning a gold medal at the Atlanta Olympics — has cruised through his unheralded weight division like it’s just a preliminary to some anticipated main event. That main event would be either a heavyweight title shot or a step down to take on light-heavyweight king Roy Jones Jr. But, with his unmatched knockout percentage and relentless body-attacking style, Jirov might continue to be a victim of his own success, scaring away opponents unwilling to tangle with a tiger.

It feels almost traitorous not to bestow this award on Harkins’ Camelview 5 in Scottsdale, which has pretty much single-handedly maintained what little independent and foreign film fare the Valley has to offer. But Dan Harkins has outdone himself with the Valley Art, a beautiful, modernized renovation of the spot where he claims to have been conceived when his parents lived and worked there, operating the Mill Avenue theater before it fell into disrepair. The Valley Art’s stadium seating rises gently, offering both good viewing and the feel of a traditional movie theater, and, while the screen isn’t giant, it is set in perfect relationship to the seats. Now if Harkins will just upgrade Camelview to the same level of cleanliness and comfort, indie film could be treated with the respect it deserves.

There’s a rare spiritual resonance about this work, created by artist James Carpenter in collaboration with the Richard Meier Architectural Firm. It can be found inside the cylindrical glass-and-steel courtroom at the west end of the atrium at the Sandra Day O’Connor Federal Courthouse. The parabolic glass ceiling hangs like the lens of a clear-seeing eye on a spider web of metal cables and connectors. The beauty of it is in the subtle way its craftsmanship and precision rise above the merely practical. They make poetry of what law books lay out in dull prose and the courts themselves sometimes ignore: that the illuminating search for truth and justice should focus the mind on every fact, large and small — dimpled chad or not.

Our earliest memories of late ’60s/early ’70s life in the Valley are not of tubing the Salt River or visiting the Phoenix Zoo, but — well, okay, we admit it — shopping. The best excursions were to the elegant Biltmore Fashion Park, where we recall peeking in the windows at Rosenzweig’s Jewelers and Mills Touche, and wondering what that Red Door at Elizabeth Arden’s could possibly mean.

But we most fondly remember Saks Fifth Avenue, the highest-end store in the city, a sensory whirl of perfume in the air, pristine jewelry on display, and customers who looked like they could afford it. The more subdued exterior was a treat, too: a desert-tan backdrop with sandstone mosaics designed in 1963 by artist John Smith.

Several years ago, Saks relocated elsewhere in the mall, and we were dismayed to see the mosaics come down. But some nostalgic soul salvaged some of the work, and turned it into a garden installation that you can visit just east of the original Saks — a priceless bit of Phoenix at a cost everyone can enjoy.

After nearly a decade as the state’s attorney general and a couple of stints on talk radio, smarmy Grant Woods — unofficial leader of the Mod Squad of left-leaning Arizona Republicans — has stepped back into the shadows.

Or has he?

Is the incredibly ambitious, relatively young, spotlight-addicted Woods content to sit on his duff and fatten his coffers by acting as spokesman for folks like hockey magnate Steve Ellman, the Bidwill Boys and, on occasion, actually practicing law?

Nah.

Earlier this year, the Republican announced emphatically that he won’t run for governor in 2002. But don’t count him out. This guy’s a master at sticking his finger in the wind and figuring out which way to blow — promises to the likes of his good friend Matt Salmon be damned. Come early 2002, if it looks like Grant can win, count on Grant to jump in the race.

And if not? He’s still the best politician in the land, by our estimation. If you don’t believe us, just look at the list of local perennial loser candidates choking the ballots: Paul Johnson, Terry Goddard, Steve Owens — must we go on?

Knowin’ when to fold ’em is the mark of a true political talent. No one’s going to call Grant Woods a has-been. At least, not for a while.

Considering the more-than-affordable treasures we’ve dragged home from this delightful vintage furniture shop, we’re feeling very forgiving about the gigantic typo emblazoned across its tidy storefront. There, in huge plastic letters, we’re promised “ANTIQUE’S,” a possessive inaccuracy that would normally have us phoning the Grammar Patrol with angry complaints. But we’re smiling, instead, because this cozy cache of cool old junk marks the return of shabby chic kingpin Michael Robertson, who blew town last year to open an antique shop in San Diego. Now that Robertson’s California store is thriving, he’s revisiting the Valley with his special brand of bohemian bourgeoisie furnishings. Just last week, after trolling Michael Todd’s 2,500 square feet, we ran off with a deco waterfall bureau, an ancient iron bed (with side rails!), and an old oil painting of somebody’s grandmother, all for less than a hundred bucks. What do you want — good grammar or good deals?

In some ways, 2001 has been a bumpy year for the D-Backs. Consistently disappointing fan turnout has confirmed that the honeymoon days of 1998-’99 have faded. And the team’s well-chronicled money problems have called into question its long-term viability as a major league baseball franchise. But in an era when player salaries and team budgets are dinner-table topics, it’s easy to forget that the measuring stick that really counts is on-field performance. And the D-Backs have definitely delivered on the field, expertly mixing the overpowering pitching of Randy Johnson and Curt Schilling with the astounding power hitting of Luis Gonzalez, and getting just enough help from a solid, journeyman cast. Along the way, they’ve given the Valley its most serious title contender since Sir Charles and his Phoenix Suns gave the Bulls a scare in ’93.

In the ongoing war for sports-radio Arbitron numbers, the most obvious route to success is to be louder, ruder and more obnoxious than the competition. KDUS afternoon host Evan Andeen, known to his listeners as “E-Dog,” doesn’t fall into this trap. Sure, he’s caustic and frequently indignant, but you sense that Andeen’s anger comes from an honest disgust with the idiocies that go hand-in-glove with the world of jocks. Whether dissecting the D-Backs’ wrongheaded aggressiveness on the base paths, or mocking the hypocrisy of the WNBA over Lisa Harrison’s offer to pose in Playboy, Andeen — with sidekick Moose Meyer — is a rare voice of reason and intelligence in a genre overrun with macho bluster.

Everyone should have a cause. For KTAR afternoon host Tony Femino, the crusade of 2001 has been the brutal Valley heat (and the accompanying electricity costs). So, a few months ago, Femino launched a one-man campaign to get Avondale to give city employees the day off whenever thermostats exceed 115 degrees. If the plan has little chance of actually being enacted, you can’t blame Femino for trying. An L.A. native with a history in sports talk, Femino brings much of that genre’s game-face attitude to his shows, which are informative but irreverent, newsy but willing to venture into pop-culture silliness. It’s to Femino’s credit that he can dissect a presidential-election controversy or chat up Loni Anderson with equal enthusiasm.

“When I was injured in an accident . . .” With those familiar words, we bet you can already hear the creepy client endorsements from the Goldberg & Osborne commercials, featuring everybody’s favorite shell-shocked accident victims, filmed from the waist up and speaking in a sort of Percocet-induced Night of the Living Dead monotone. Countless times per week, G&O airs the same hypnotic pitch: how the Valley-based attorney chain came to the rescue of a wrongfully injured zombie by obtaining a million-dollar McSettlement. Yet, because of the ad’s Stanley Kubrick feel, you can’t resist watching, can you? You can’t look away. It’s sort of like seeing . . . a car accident.

The magic of The Enchanted Garden is how low its prices are for charming ceramic cherubs, mansion-size birdhouses, flowery wind chimes and unusual blown-glass vases, cat-shaped pet bowls and wrought-iron clocks. It’s tucked into downtown Mesa’s Old Brick House, a furniture store that leases space on its different levels to anyone with a cool new line of tchotchkes to launch. Less a garden than a small boutique covered in unusual wall hangings, this booth sells ultra-feminine stuff that looks as good in the living room as it does on the patio.

If you’re after the perfect, fresh, affordable tree that will outlast your holiday spirit, give The Home Depot a try. Each year, this hardware retailer fills a chain-link pen with the widest selection of firs and spruces to be found in the Valley. Overlook the asphalt-covered surroundings and you’ll find all of the perks of a more traditional tree lot: helpful clerks, bright poinsettias, and a shocking number of tree stands. There’s even an outdoor decor department, where you can outfit your new blue spruce with twinkle lights and some cool new bulbs. This year, trim hours off your holiday rush with a hunk of forest from the parking lot of your favorite hardware store. Tell ’em Santa sent you.

This is the Valley’s most splendid tribute to the equipment that paved the Garden of Eden, courtesy of designer Bill Tonnesen. Even before you reach the renovated interior, the building’s exterior walls and courtyard are designed to praise the visual virtues of the company’s earthmoving tools — mostly Caterpillars. Just about every surface and nook celebrates the sculptural appeal of big loud things that dig, split, drill, scrape and core. At Empire, it’s all about blades, pistons and bits done up as pure decor. But be prepared: The weight and size of the details tend to leave first-time visitors gape-mouthed and asking, “What kind of rig did that come from?”

Phoenix is no Manhattan, but we’re inching our way toward the Big Apple’s $10 movie ticket prices. There are few alternatives for the financially deprived, except Tempe Cinemas. Miss a movie première? Wait a while and watch it here for less than half the price of a regular matinee. The ticket lines move quickly, and the box office is inside, so you don’t have to sweat it out behind a bunch of sluggish patrons. Expect plush seating and thunderous THX surround sound; there’s even an affordable, full-service snack bar, so you don’t have to smuggle in outside goodies. There is such a thing as a cheap date.

Talk about best-kept secrets: Most people don’t know that the popular college party bar Giligin’s has a second location — in Thailand. The Pattaya version has the same owners, the same name and the same tropical theme and Corona beer specials, but with one distinctive addition: whores! Plenty of young Thai prostitutes who, according to the Giligin’s Web site, www.giligins.com, will take care of “any, and I mean any, special or freaky needs” for less than $100 a day. The site features telling pics of the bar’s owners — all protruding tongues and backward baseball caps, clutching their “hand-picked” staff of 18-to-22-year-olds. (Sure.)

It’s the granddaddy of Phoenix tourist traps, but Rawhide is wearing its age well. We know it’s mostly fake and corny, but, shoot, it’s fun. In addition to its mainstay attractions like the cowboy-actor shoot-outs and covered-wagon rides, Rawhide has new features including a haunted hotel, a trampoline-style bungee jump, and an Old West climbing wall. If you feel like splurging, sign up for a Sundown Cookout. You’ll ride into the desert on mule-drawn hay wagons, then enjoy good grub and live country music, watch Indian dancing and toast marshmallows around a huge campfire.

Acquanetta!

During the 1950s and ’60s, the former B-movie queen was the most exotic thing Phoenix had to offer, a pre-Cher glamazon equally at home in the society pages or on local television, where she modeled wigs and read poetry during commercial breaks on the Late Late Show sponsored by her car dealer husband. And if you were lucky, you spotted her in the flesh, tooling around town in a pink Lincoln Continental.

Although the female star of Tarzan and the Leopard Woman has disappeared from the public eye in recent years, her legacy lives on in this fan site that includes her poetry, a photo gallery, a filmography and even a multiple-choice biography fashioned from the many conflicting stories of the “Venezuelan Volcano”‘s early years. (Was she an Arapaho Indian born Burnuacquanetta — or was she actually Mildred Davenport of Ozone, Wyoming? And did she really once attend West Virginia State College for Negroes?)

Operated by an admirer identified only as “Captive Wild Fan” — an allusion to the 1943 flick Captive Wild Women, wherein Acqua portrays a sex-crazed native who’d formerly been an orangutan — this is one site that will make any Acqua aficionado go ape.

This non-commercial station on the left end of the dial — KNAI, known as La Campesina — spent much of the ’90s with a virtual monopoly on the listening tastes of Spanish speakers in the Valley. In the last three years, an explosion of Spanish-language stations has cut into KNAI’s ratings, but it continues to be the Latino community’s most influential voice on the airwaves. Part of a farm workers’ radio network created by the late Cesar Chávez, KNAI offers a mix of news, talk shows and traditional conjunto music, and can be counted on to weigh in on the big issues affecting Valley Latinos. When protesters gathered outside the Capitol to advocate drivers’ licenses for undocumented immigrants, La Campesina was there, broadcasting live. And when Chandler police rounded up suspected illegals in 1997, KNAI made the controversial action the focus of its coverage. Even as local Hispanic media grow, La Campesina stubbornly remains their political conscience.

Wig-Wearing Lady, who’s been reading a Harlequin romance, just got up from her seat. Is she going to . . . ? She is! She’s sitting down next to Long-Haired Sleeping Man! Now she’s shaking him awake — what’s the deal? Does she know him? Or is this just another story unfolding in the cozy mystique of our favorite people-watching spot? Observing the many muted mini-dramas unfolding among the after-1 a.m. crowd in dimly lit Terminal Four is among our guiltiest pleasures. There might be only a handful of characters, but that’s all it takes. Last time we were there, we watched a sexy bearded guy make a paper pterodactyl for a zombie-like mother and her three noisy kids, witnessed a fight between two polyester-clad flight attendants, and looked on as a sour-faced septuagenarian couple preached the gospel to a panhandler. Settle yourself into a reasonably comfortable black leatherette seat and just ponder and observe. There’s a different cast and a different set of stories every night.

Do you know a woman who, with one phone call, will come over and rub your back, rearrange your furniture, make your place smell nice and pour hot wax in your ears? Yeah, we do, too. But Kish is a different kind of “professional.” For three years, she has promptly and faithfully served the Valley’s holistic needs with massaging hands that’ll make you whinny with pleasure. What’s more, her sixth-design-sense will help you and your home maintain an all-important harmonic balance. Get Kished and relaaaax . . .

The homely hyena is a misunderstood creature, Out of Africa Wildlife Park president Dean Harrison wants us to know. Rather than the vicious, bloodthirsty animals we’ve seen portrayed on TV, hyenas are loving, affectionate and playful, even with humans. It sure looks convincing, as Harrison wrestles with a huge hyena that chews gently on his arm, then follows him with a splash into a swimming pool during one of several rotating shows at the park. Out of Africa is not a zoo or a circus, but it combines the best of both to teach us about animals. Its garden setting puts us mere feet from tigers, lions, bears and wolves — the panther is so close we can smell its breath. Out of Africa — for us, and for the animals — is out of sight.

Want to watch a movie on a big screen, but you’d be pelted with popcorn if you took your squirming toddler? Hankering for a little hanky-panky to enhance the cinematic experience, but stadium seating and decorum just won’t allow it? At this 25-year-old Scottsdale drive-in, you can watch the movie — and do whatever — without leaving your car. And if the movie’s no good, the people-watching will be — entire families set up makeshift living rooms in flatbed trucks, complete with lawn furniture, blankets and beer. The double feature is always a bargain at $5.50 per person, and kids under 11 are free. If they get restless, send ’em to the on-site video arcade. Skip the standard concession fare and pack your own picnic to enjoy this uniquely American experience. But you’d better hurry. The Scottsdale Six is one of only two Valley drive-ins left. (The other is the Glendale Nine.)

Head south down Country Club Drive in Mesa toward Main Street and check out the businesses that line the streets. Don’t just glance at them, read their signs. You’ll find a haven for the creatively challenged business owner — the uninspired, the copycat, the redundant. Beer World is a few spots away from Birds of the World, and about a mile away from Pool World (as in pool tables). The Pawn Man and The Water Heater Man are right across the street from each other. And the Basic Food Market is not too far from the Community Family Restaurant. And lest you miss its point, near Country Club and Main is the Valley Eatery Diner Restaurant.