We love hanging out in nice places with our friends. The trouble is, nice places usually don't want us.
Dick's Hideaway has become our personal haunt when we've got a group of up to 25 party pals. There's a $500 minimum to use the room, but divided among our cohorts, that comes to only $20 each, and the money is applied to food and drink (the contract lets us know the fee can be used to cover damage to the room, too, but we've never tested it).
The place is just too cool, hidden behind a door set invisibly into the paneled wood wall of the tiny bar called Dick's Hideaway. Signs? Doorknobs? Not here. Inside, it's startlingly opulent, centered by a copper-topped table and comfy booth tables lining the wine-rack-lined walls. There's a loft above one of the booths, too, in case we feel like taking a nap.
Dishes are the best of next door's Richardson's, lauded for its creative New Mexican fare like surf and turf (tenderloin with jumbo chipotle pecan grilled shrimp, enchiladas, green chile potato and fried egg), or blue corn smoked turkey enchiladas with grilled portobello mushroom.
At Dick's, we can get as raucous as we want, and no one will shush us. That alone is worth the price of admission.
BEST PROFESSIONAL ATHLETE
Randy Johnson
BEST TOURIST TRAP
Rawhide Wild West Town
23023 North Scottsdale Road, Scottsdale
480-502-1880
BEST POLITICIAN
John McCain
BEST USE OF TAXPAYER MONEY
Freeways
BEST TV NEWSCASTER
Brad Perry
BEST NEWS STATION
KPNX Channel 12
BEST ART GALLERY
Phoenix Art Museum
1625 North Central
602-257-1222
BEST THEATER TROUPE
Phoenix Theatre's Little Theatre
BEST PLACE TO ACT LIKE A NATIVE PHOENICIAN
Bank One Ballpark
401 East Jefferson
602-462-6000
BEST LOCAL HERO
Azpunk.com
How could one guy hurt so many people and maintain the highest approval rating of any elected official in the county? We've gotta hand it to you, Sheriff Joe: You are one fine politician. We'd like to bottle the sheriff's elixir and sell it for those interested in doing good, rather than evil, but for now we'll applaud Arpaio for making the decision not to run for governor this fall. The mark of a good politician is not just knowing when to run, it's knowing when not to run -- and somewhere beneath all that hair grease, Arpaio must have had some self-awareness (or some political consultant) telling him his record in office just wouldn't have held up in the shadow of the governor's race.
Joe Arpaio's not going to win any awards for promoting human rights, and like others we've elected, he's dangerous. But as a politician, he's got all the rest of you losers beat.
Really, we're not making this one up. Court Rich is a first-year associate at Nearhood Law Offices in Scottsdale, and a recent graduate of Arizona State University's law school. Since he'll be specializing in business litigation, he may even see the inside of a courtroom -- a rarity for a lawyer these days. But will he be rich? Remains to be seen, although he does have a head start in the public relations department. Turns out Court Rich is the brother of Jordan, who's married to Jason Rose, who runs a PR firm in Scottsdale. And Rose can already see the ad on the back of the phone book: "Need to go to court? Want to get rich? Call Court Rich. 1-800-COURT-RICH."
So often, people in our (un)fair city use their power for evil. We're happy to celebrate a couple of powerful Phoenicians who, as far as we can tell, do nothing but good.
Instead of building skyscrapers, Cindy Dach and Greg Esser are busy constructing culture. Dach is director of events for Changing Hands Bookstore in Tempe. Esser runs the public art program for the City of Phoenix. Thank Dach for bringing Amy Tan, David Sedaris, T.C. Boyle and Dr. Andrew Weil to town for readings. Expect Garrison Keillor this fall. Esser gets credit for that cool mountain-like bridge over the 51 and the public art coin project along Central Avenue.
On the side, Dach writes fiction and Esser paints. In their spare time this year, they created two of the city's most vibrant art spaces.
Dismayed by the lack of artist-run galleries in the Valley, earlier this year Dach and Esser opened eye lounge, in a building they bought and refurbished. The space -- at 419 East Roosevelt, next to Modified Arts and across from the Paisley Violin -- quickly became a favorite stop on First Fridays, and, in September, Esser opened 515, a spin-off gallery just a few doors down from eye lounge.
We can't wait to see what Dach and Esser do next. We're exhausted just thinking about it.
A few blocks north of Phoenix's business district sits Trinity Cathedral, the 82-year-old Episcopalian church that houses the perfect getaway for those looking for some artistic time off. Between the cathedral itself (surprisingly modern and warm inside) and Bishop Atwood Hall you'll find the Cathedral Center for the Arts show space, a light, narrow gallery that makes for the perfect aesthetic refuge. CCA hangs art there regularly, oftentimes the work of lesser-known artists, and the quality of the shows is consistent.
But it also offers a kind of cathedral-like quiet that many downtowners seem to crave; the gallery's guest book is salted with thanks from midday visitors for providing an oasis where they can sit, look and ponder. Now the secret's out.
And another tip: The brickwork labyrinth in the courtyard -- modeled after one at the medieval Chartres Cathedral -- makes for another neat diversion, especially for the kids.
The Sunnyslope Rock Garden is actually the yard of a private home in a modest neighborhood in north Phoenix. But what a yard. Grover Cleveland Thompson began constructing the odd assortment of windmills, concrete figures and fountains in 1952. Current owner Marion Blake purchased the property in 1979, and vowed to keep the odd sculptures intact, which she has, for curious onlookers to enjoy. The concrete monuments, such as a 12-foot-tall replica of Seattle's Space Needle, are embedded with shards of colorful ceramics, and pieces of animal and human figurines (Blake says Thompson favored Fiestaware for its low price and radioactive qualities). You can enjoy the spectacle for yourself the first Sunday of every month, when the garden is open to the public.
You'll never guess who we ran into the other night. Donna Summer! Yes! But that's not all! We also met Michael Jackson, Tina Turner, Gloria Estefan, the Four Tops and Elvis. It was so cool.
It was also so fake. The artists -- impersonators, of course -- are part of the Showstoppers Live performance at Casino Arizona. They play Sundays and Tuesdays at 7:30 p.m., and Wednesdays through Saturdays at 7:30 and 9:30 p.m.
Okay, so we didn't exactly collect autographs. But with just 250 seats in the cabaret, we felt almost like family.
One day we wandered into the Phoenix Police Museum, and we were charmed by the experience. It's like a little Disneyland for cops, complete with faux streetscapes. Artifacts date from the late 1800s, when officers patrolled the 3.1-square-mile city on foot, and the patrol wagon was pulled by a horse named Old Nelly. We can climb in and around a patrol car and a police motorcycle. We can try on uniforms, including a flak jacket and gun belt. We can stick our heads through a cutout full-size police officer for a photo.
Yet the most touching thing is the room dedicated to officers killed in action. And now, there's another monument -- a wall of fame for service dogs killed in action. After the events of last year, it makes for an especially poignant moment.
Until NASA perfects time travel, we'll travel to this 17-acre park to get a glimpse of the good ol' days. This home, home on the range, where the peacocks and bunnies do play, ranks among the West Valley's prettiest places. The ranch's original buildings, open for tours, are oldies but goodies -- the Main House Museum dates back to 1895, the fruit-packing shed to 1891. Outside, visitors can wander the rose garden, historic orchard, vineyard and barnyard.
A year-round schedule of old-time events keeps the ranch a-rockin'. Next up: Sahuaro Ranch Days, November 9-10, followed by Christmas at the Ranch and the "Great Quilts of the West" exhibition opening in January. In February, the Antique Tractor and Engine Show rolls in, and spring brings May's Grand Canyon Sweet Onion Festival. Whether you come to admire the doilies or the antique tractors, fun doesn't get more down-home than this.
We long for our days spent wandering deep into New York's and San Francisco's Chinatowns, always surprised by the constant discovery of new sights, smells and sounds. But let's face it -- Phoenix can't compete. Instead, we'll just be happy that we have COFCO, the only place in town where we can gorge ourselves with Chinese culture.
Granted, it's still got that inescapable strip mall setup, although the best one in town -- with sloped, tiled roofs, a moon-reflecting pond and giant lion-dog statues out front. At the center of it all is 99 Ranch Market, a sprawling supermarket where exotic Asian vegetables, boxes of salted duck eggs and bags of dried squid share shelf space with grocery basics like tea and cereal.
We like to grab a boba tea -- cold, sweet tea served Taiwanese style, with a generous helping of tapioca balls at the bottom -- at the in-store lunch counter, then stroll the aisles to load up on goodies. Neighboring businesses include a couple of great Chinese restaurants, an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet, and a gift store offering glorious kitsch, from kung fu shoes and tiny resin Buddha statues to calligraphy sets and paper lanterns.
Every year, volunteers at the Desert Botanical Garden add to the glow of this favorite holiday event with more luminarias (brown paper bags filled with sand and a lighted candle) and more musical acts. The foliage is barely visible as you wander the brick paths through the garden, guided by the light of hundreds of luminarias, but there's more to look at than just cactus. Along the pathway you'll happen upon bell ringers, opera singers and people playing all manner of stringed instruments. Top it off with a cool, starry night and a cup of warm apple cider and a cookie, and this is our favorite way to begin the holiday season in the desert. This year, it'll be held December 6 and 7; tickets are on sale now. Be forewarned: Others like it, too. Tickets sell out early.
We love Postino for the $5 glass of Merlot at lunch and the comfy couches at happy hour, but we never expected to find inspiration at a trendy wine bar -- let alone in the ladies' room. But there we sat, in a beautiful rest room big enough for a table of six, admiring the candles and the deeply hued artwork, when we happened to notice a word -- just about our height at the time, if you get our delicate drift -- stenciled on the door: CREATE. Indeed we did, and headed back to the Merlot with a chuckle.
A month later, over another lunch, we sat again, and this time noticed a new message: BE UNIQUE. That may be a bit tougher, Postino, but we'll give it a shot. And we can't wait to see what the next message will be.
Heading west from Phoenix, there's not much between Luke Air Force Base and the state line. But we were delighted to find a funky oasis full of creatures you'd never expect to see in these parts. The Wildlife World Zoo has the requisite lions and tigers and giraffes (we didn't see any bears), but we were surprised to see a penguin house. On a mid-May visit, the tuxedoed crew looked sweaty -- even in their air-conditioned suite -- but the peacocks (labeled "peafowl") roaming the grounds looked quite content. One got up close and fanned its feathers wide -- stunning even the grouchiest of zoogoers.
Phoenix is lousy with little theaters, and most of them are a revolving door for would-be thespians who aspire to community productions of Neil Simon comedies. These petite playhouses cater to theatergoers who'd just as soon rent videos and don't want to be troubled with shows they haven't already seen. Then there's teeny Is What It Is Theater, a group of Camelback High School alumni who for the past five seasons have pushed the arts envelope with quirky and rarely produced shows that we'd never see otherwise. Last year the kids at Is brought us the seldom-seen Gingerbread Lady; a tidy take on What I Did Last Summer; and a risky adaptation of Orson Welles' radio drama The War of the Worlds. While not every one of this tiny troupe's productions is a winner -- its production of hoary old The Curious Savage was a reminder of why no one mounts this show anymore -- it's set a standard for alternative but still commercial theater. More impressive is the fact that the troupe has done it all on a shoestring.
Some ideas need a long time to gestate, and maybe the idea of spending your lunch hour watching live drama was just one of them. But this year did mark the return of Lunch Time Theater, an elegant little plan to coax office-workers into a theater with the promise of short, entertaining plays and cheap, crunchy lunches. Actors Theatre of Phoenix first trundled out the concept in the late '80s -- known then as Brown Bag Theater -- and it worked for a few years before going on a decadelong, er, hiatus. But in its new incarnation in the Herberger Theater Center, it seems to have found its niche -- presenting one-act plays by up-and-coming companies, while audience members chew on turkey sandwiches, diced fruit and little bags of chips. It's win-win-win. Actors get to hone their chops, troupes get to test out new scripts, and stultified office drones get some really cheap entertainment: $5 for admission and $5 for lunch, catered by Teeter House. And its year-round schedule has helped put the lie to the notion that, during the summer, the Valley's theater scene is pitch black.
It's not easy getting an audience for Shakespeare in this town. And no one knows that better than Actors' Renaissance Theatre. This truly local troupe started (and still exists) on a shoestring but is held together by strong performances, well-planned seasons, and the passion of its founders, husband-and-wife team James and Ashley Barnard. ART offers up the classics of Austen, Wilde and Shakespeare, stages an annual Valley of the Sun Shakespeare Festival, and debuts original works, like its recent world première adaptation of Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibility. None of these things is exactly known for selling hordes of tickets, but ART still manages to put on good, affordable theater without going under, and without the help of underwriting or grants. In our book, that deserves recognition.
After several consecutive seasons of mostly ill-conceived dreck, the Valley's oldest theater company rebounded with what was arguably the best show of the year. Phoenix Theatre's production of Sophisticated Ladies was so letter-perfect in performance and execution, it was nearly enough to make us forget the same company's laughably awful take on A Streetcar Named Desire of two seasons ago. Everything about Ladies was right: The dancing and singing were superb; the choreography fresh; the set and costume design outstanding. Every word, note and gesture jibed with our memory of Duke Ellington, whose music was celebrated in this tough-to-stage musical revue. Here's to hoping that Phoenix Theatre's upcoming season will repeat the stunning success of its Sophisticated Ladies.
With a single exception, the acting in Nearly Naked Theater's The King of Infinite Space was unexceptional. But Michael Sherwin's performance in the title role of Andrew Ordover's obscure morality play was so dazzling, it appeared to belong to another production. Red-faced and shrieking one moment, eerily calm the next, Sherwin delivered Ordover's lines with a riveting blend of chutzpah and megalomania. His performance -- which culminated in a final scene of glassy-eyed, catatonic madness -- rescued an otherwise dreary production from failure.
There are only a handful of theaters in the Valley of the Sun that were originally meant to be theaters, and even some of those have the acoustics of a dank cave. But the historic Orpheum Theatre, with its majestic proscenium, cloud-painted ceiling and rich red velvet seats, puts everything else in the state to shame. After a citizen-led battle to save it from demolition when it fell into shambles, 12 years of hard work, and $14 million, the Orpheum Theatre was reborn. The visible trappings were restored as much as possible, like the ornate carvings and stairwells, while retrofitting it as a modern theater capable of handling modern shows with all of their high-tech needs. And the round-light-trimmed marquee and side poster boxes at Second Avenue and Adams Street transport you to a time when having your name in lights really meant something.
In the past couple of years, Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art has hosted some impressive shows of cutting-edge stuff, like the mind- and space-bending work of James Turrell and the contemplative conceptual work of German artist Wolfgang Laib. Sure, we wouldn't mind seeing more work by local artists and fewer of those stitched-together theme shows, but by our reckoning, SMoCA is still the best bet for artgoers who are looking for a dose of timeliness, relevance and challenge to go with their wine and cheese.
At the city-supported Museo Chicano downtown, the gift shop is just about as big as the gallery space itself -- and for good reason. The wares on sale are oftentimes as gripping (sometimes more so, actually) as what's on display. Flashy fiesta flags hang overhead. Cigarette-chomping sugar skulls line the shelves. And dioramas of canny
calaveras are the order of the day -- scenes of savvy-looking skeletons shooting pool, drinking booze, giving birth, hanging out on street corners.
Of course, el Museo also offers the requisite coffee-table books, art prints and gear dedicated to the supposed George and Martha of Mexican art, Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. But in our opinion, it's the folk art that makes this place most firme.
Where else can you drive 35 miles on a four-lane, divided parkway in the middle of the afternoon and see only six other vehicles?
Long ago dubbed the "Road to Nowhere," the Sun Valley Parkway was built in the mid-1980s as the centerpiece of a real estate development project that collapsed in typical Arizona fashion. The only thing that has ever come true from all the real estate hype for the area now annexed by Buckeye is the parkway.
A sign stating "No Service Next 35 Miles" signals the start of the parkway that lies about 12 miles east of the Palo Verde Nuclear Generating Station, off Interstate 10. The sign also gives the green light to floor it, which we did. After a few minutes, the old truck wound up to 102 mph, not bad considering the 198,500 miles on the engine (1994 Dodge Dakota, V-6).
Besides the obvious temptation to ramp up the RPMs, the road is a favorite for cyclists with its wide shoulders and paucity of traffic. The parkway bisects the Hassayampa Plain, offering vast expanses of relatively untouched Sonoran Desert landscape marred only by a jangle of crisscrossing, high-tension power lines.
Amid talk of strikes and steroids, there are still a few baseball players you can hold up as shining role models to your kids.
Craig Counsell is the shiniest role model of the lot.
Undersized and undertalented, Counsell seems to have nothing going for him except heart, an undying work ethic and an exceptional understanding of the subtleties of baseball.
There are a lot of guys in Double A with more natural talent. But because he's Craig Counsell, he's a consistent big-league batter capable of playing any spot in the infield on any day with Gold Glove acumen.
And like the superstars, he always seems to pull out a hit when the Diamondbacks most need one. Unfortunately for the D-Backs and their fans, Counsell suffered an injury in August and will be unavailable for the postseason. Still, if the Snakes repeat as world champions this year, Counsell will have been one of the biggest contributors to their success.
Despite all the complaining and groaning about Sun Devil Stadium generated primarily by the hapless Arizona Cardinals, the facility remains one of the finest football venues in the country.
Yes, the toilets are old and concessions stands are limited, but for pure football fans, the proximity to the field and clean site lines can't be beat.
When the fans are fired up, the stadium generates a roar that spills down Mill Avenue and blots out the jets flying into Sky Harbor Airport. The stadium was built during Arizona State University's golden era of football under the direction of former coach Frank Kush, after whom the field is named.
It's a beautiful football stadium, plain and simple.
Despite the Cardinals' derisive feelings about Sun Devil Stadium, the National Football League Players Association last year named the stadium the fifth best facility in the NFL. If the Cardinals simply played a few night games in September and October, there would be no need for a new facility.
The Fiesta Bowl, which will host the national championship game this year at Sun Devil Stadium, will look back on its days at Sun Devil Stadium and realize those were the best of times.
"Walshie," as former Phoenix Coyotes captain Keith Tkachuk used to call him, has a sports nut's dream job: He gets to wander around America West Arena and Bank One Ballpark during professional hockey and baseball games, eyeing the action while hunting for the odd and colorful situation and character in the crowd on which to report. Immediately after the games (and between periods at the hockey rink), Walsh tosses a few quick questions at the athletes themselves, often with more than a hint of irreverence. That's the beauty of Walsh -- he obviously loves sports and knows baseball and hockey inside and out, but he refuses to take the games, or himself, too seriously.
Walsh's résumé has some noteworthy quirks: While attending the University of Arizona, he was team manager for the fabled 1988 basketball team that went to the Final Four. Then, in the early 1990s, his gutless bosses at KTAR radio fired him after he criticized the pathetic Arizona Cardinals from his vantage point as roving reporter. His public axing from the Evil Land of Bidwill turned out to be fortuitous, for Walsh and Valley sports fans alike.
Okay, so it's in Chandler. But Madstone Theaters -- a national chain of 20 cinemas that play predominantly independent and foreign films -- is a godsend in any neighborhood. Until last month, the Valley had gotten by with precious few full-fledged art movie houses, and if it weren't for Harkins Valley Art or Camelview, we'd never see a foreign or indie film at all. But Madstone is here to change all that. The company recently bought an abandoned AMC multiplex and transformed it into this six-screen, upscale cinema that showcases art house and foreign films, as well as documentaries and classic movies. Plush interiors and comfy seating may be a given, but when was the last time you went to a movie house with a concierge, or an art gallery, or a full-service cafe that serves sandwiches, coffee drinks, baked goods, and beer and wine? Madstone features revivals of recent hit indie films, as well as a digital movie screen that will bring live and interactive programming to the Valley.
As if that weren't enough, the company has launched Madstone Films, a new-style studio that funds new works by up-and-coming young filmmakers. Movie fans will want one of Madstone's annual membership kits, which offers discounted tickets and invitations to special screenings and receptions. Let's go to the movies!
As the Valley's arts organizations struggle for economic survival, we hold up associate conductor Robert Moody as a compelling reason to support the Phoenix Symphony. Were his orchestra reduced to a tin whistle and a secondhand set of bongos, we'd wager that Maestro Moody still could conjure an inspired performance to delight the most discerning listener. With eloquence and humor, he amiably explains the pieces he conducts, making classical music accessible -- and interesting -- even to symphonic novices.
And we can't help but notice how dapper he looks in his tuxedo (in fact, we're reasonably sure he never wears anything else). His credentials aren't bad, either: He's conducted at Carnegie Hall and lived in Austria, where he worked at the Landestheater Linz opera house. His current repertoire includes serving as chorus master for the Santa Fe Opera, conductor for the Oklahoma City Symphony's "Discovery" concert series and music director for the Phoenix Symphony Guild Youth Orchestra. Ah, a real Renaissance man.
Rock us, Amadeus.
DJ John Holmberg, along with his sidekicks, Brady Bogen and Beau Duran, have more or less saved KUPD from its longtime creep toward becoming WKRP.
Luckily for listeners, KUPD's management got bored with Dave Pratt too. In early September, they replaced him with the relatively young, inexperienced DJ from the floundering sort-of-alt-rock station The Zone.
The show started slowly thanks to 9/11 and KUPD's mistake of teaming Holmberg with a doormat of a Hooters girl for a sidekick. But as the new team jelled, and as laughing at edgy, dark, gloriously twisted jokes became okay again, the Morning Sickness took off.
Now Holmberg and crew are the second-highest-rated morning show in Phoenix behind Howard Stern. And their numbers have been just as good as, and sometimes better than, Pratt's, who had 20 years to build his audience.
Now Holmberg just needs to overcome Stern. It should happen. Day in, day out, Holmberg puts on a much better show.
Not every Valley municipal project is a boondoggle.
In its eight years in existence, the sprawling Peoria Sports Complex has become the northwest Valley's magnet for an incredible array of events. One weekend, you can see the Goo Goo Dolls, the next you can watch Japan's best professional baseball players duking it out on the Complex's numerous state-of-the-art baseball diamonds. Because of all the activity, the Complex, in the last three years, has become a draw for all sorts of hotels and restaurants.
You can watch Little Leaguers bashing it out most any weekend. Old guys can attend fantasy camps in which they get to play with their major league heroes. The facility even hosts an Easter egg hunt, besides numerous other community festivals. And it's home-team ground for the Seattle Mariners and San Diego Padres for Cactus League play.
More so than anywhere in the Valley, you can show up at the Peoria Sports Complex on any weekend and expect to be entertained.
It feels like everyone is cutting their vacation budget. If the kids are bummed because you aren't going to San Diego to escape the heat of summer, take heart. Try the Sonoran Splash plan at the
très luxe Scottsdale Princess. The promotion features Dive-In Movies on a 12-foot-by-16-foot screen mounted at the pool, which is filled with inner tubes for wet viewing. Although the movie lineup is aimed at kids of all ages (e.g.,
Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius,
Shrek,
Beethoven's 4th), cocktails are available for adults floating on inner tubes.
Scheduled from June 22 through September 9, 2003, the Sonoran Splash includes lots of extras for parents, such as yoga classes and tennis clinics, and even free breakfasts for kids under 12. And no one of any age should miss the two water slides. At 186 feet and 199 feet, respectively, they are the largest of any resort in the state. Room rates begin at $129, with kids staying free in the parents' accommodation.
For those of us forbidden to run through the sprinkler when we were children (for fear that -- heaven help us -- we'd smush up the lawn), this small playground on Scottsdale's greenbelt, just northwest of the Hayden-Roosevelt intersection, is the stuff of wet dreams.
Sundry streams shoot from the trunk of a plastic palm tree and from a fish tail sticking straight up into the sky. Kids small and tall can jump through two squirting hoops, dodge half a dozen geysers rising from the concrete and get face-to-face with a bulbous pirate's head, whose nostril nozzles are more than a little creepy.
One consideration: Before you turn your Sunday stroll into a Warrant video remake, please, think of the children. The park's only open during daylight hours, after all.
Sculling calls to mind images of dear old Oxford across the pond, or even rowing upon the Charles River in Boston. Now you can join the sport of English gentry and New England Brahmins right here in the desert. Don't let the artificial lake distract you.
The City of Tempe offers classes in team rowing or individual sculling (providing you've mastered the basics). All levels, from master to novice, are taught on Town Lake under the historic Mill Avenue bridge.
Beyond Bagels has all the stuff you expect to find these days at a deli that claims New York roots: an American flag prominently displayed; a giant photo of the now eerie-seeming Old New York skyline; cartoons by the cash register about kicking bin Laden's ass. And bags of Wise potato chips. But where this place really turns the corner from New York sentimentality into full-on nostalgia is in the check-out line. That's where you'll be enticed by a host of candies and toys -- and not just the stuff you're used to seeing in supermarkets; these are the candies and toys that anyone who grew up back East would recognize, but would probably be amazed to find.
Feast your eyes on the packet of Candy Buttons. Remember those? Small, bright-colored dots of sugar stuck on sheets of paper? How about Pixy Stix? Still as potent as ever. And believe it or not, they even have bubblegum cigars, in all three colors: yellow, pink and green. (Richard, the proprietor, admits to having entertained the idea of also offering bubblegum cigarettes -- the kind you used to blow through to generate puffs of sugar "smoke" -- but he rightly feared that they'd be frowned upon. Most of these vintage goodies, he adds, are available only over the Internet.)
And just to jolt your humid childhood memories into overdrive, there are also the toys. Favorites include the plastic army-man Parachute Jumpers and Stick Ball balls and bats. You'se guys up for a game in the sandlot?
In any local music scene, a band announcing a new album with a CD release party is like somebody celebrating a bowel movement. Everybody does it, some several times a week. However, when the band known as Haggis wanted to draw attention to its latest CD,
Karma Suits Ya, it did so with a stylish sense of the occasional that made the CD release parties thrown by established indie labels seem like empty gestures.
Not only did Haggis play two back-to-back CD release party blasts at Hollywood Alley, the Tartan Four held a not-so-secret listening party at a local British pub. Haggis fans were spared bagpipe music this time around and were treated to goodie bags, raffled tee shirts, free drinks and food provided by the British Open Pub and Guinness. It was a Bacchanalian blast that made you swear it was 1975 and the Faces were launching a tour.
The Haggis name was reinforced at the buffet table; what people thought were Swedish meatballs was actually the national dish of Scotland. Yup, boiled sheep's intestines, although the delicacy has been known to include sheep's lung, stomach, heart and liver in casings, depending on their availability in the U.S. and how many transplanted Scots are in line ahead of you, waiting for baa-baa's innards. The move was sheer genius. Years from now, the band's fans will remember which Karma Suits Ya song was playing the first time they ate haggis.
Living under the watchful eye of the Valley's radar-patrolled freeways and red-light cameras has our inner speed demons so pent up that we could get a Hyundai-manufactured golf cart with two flat tires to exceed 50 mph. Seems it's high time we took a day off from traffic school to spend a day at Bobby B.'s school adjacent to Firebird International Raceway.
This so-called "school" features a 1.6-mile road course, an eight-acre paddock and more than 200 race-prepared vehicles. Classes range from the -- yawn! -- necessary and practical (i.e., Teenage Defensive Driving) to the -- gulp! -- downright intimidating. Unless you're James Bond or David Letterman, we imagine that the four-day, $4,000 "Executive Protection/Anti-Kidnapping" course of "intense driver training for high-risk individuals" is, well, not meant for you.
Fortunately, even mild-mannered AAA members can get fast and furious. If you can't swing $4,850 for the three-day Advanced Road Racing course, cough up 350 bucks (equivalent to about 10 parking tickets) and the boys'll let you lap Phoenix International Raceway's one-mile oval in an F-1 Style Formula Ford for 150 precious minutes.
Ever wanted to say something like, "Get along, little dogies," or "Howdy, partner," and have it be somewhat appropriate? We suggest you try a horseback trail ride with the folks from OK Corral, the oldest pack station in the Superstition Mountains. Summer rides are up through Payson and the Mogollon Rim, and regular-season rides take you all over the Superstitions, including an all-inclusive trek to the Lost Dutchman mine. The rates are very reasonable, and you can take a couple of hours, a day trip, or even an extended trip with camping and a steak fry. A trail ride through the mountains is part of the Arizona experience, and the OK Corral is the most bang for your buck. And don't worry if you aren't easy in the saddle; they have horses for all types of people, whether they're experts or have never ridden any horse that wasn't attached to a pole in front of Kmart.
We're not vindictive, really. We wish the best for that yellow-bellied, sneaky, lying hunk of flesh we've been dating. We certainly don't want to hurt anyone's feelings with a breakup.
So we'll let Carlsbad do the talking. We'll bring our loser, er, lover in for dinner. A romantic evening out, we'll say. Don't bother with a menu, we know exactly what you need, we'll insist. And then we'll order the chile cheeseburger for them. We won't bother to mention that this isn't just any Anaheim chile burger, but one fashioned with Carlsbad's New Mexican artillery, the incendiary habanero chile.
It comes with fries, salad and a free glass of milk (though if we're feeling really wicked we'll tell the server to hold the beverage).
As Carlsbad's menu warns, the burger may cause temporary blindness or loss of hearing. Maybe our beloved will lose the ability to speak, too. Gee, that would just be too bad.
So we're not kid people. So shoot us. Or better yet, shoot the kids. No, really, we think kids are okay; we just don't understand how people can have them and hope to have any chance of a normal life afterward.
Farrelli's feels our pain. And so, in a stroke of genius, this feeding/film house offers family festivals, offering dinner and a movie for parents with small kids, even babies. Dailey movies at 5 and 6 p.m. cater to the wee folk, when Mom and Dad can cart in the kid, watch a flick and feed on baked Brie a l'orange, spinach salad with feta and pine nuts, and center cut top sirloin. Kiddies keep happy snacking on pizza, chicken or spaghetti, while watching classic yarns like Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
It's full table service as the movie rolls, and there's even an isolation room to handle the infants acting infantile (or parents who've simply had enough). At all other movie showtimes, it's no diapers allowed, just as the world should be.
One of the things we love about hanging in the Caribbean is the laid-back attitude. No pretension, just cool. At Callaloo, owner Michael Washington-Brown keeps the spirit. If we want our food spicy (and we do), we don't ask politely. We bluntly tell our waiter to "Jerk This!" That's the signal to pile on the killer Jamaican spice called jerk.
And the kitchen doesn't apologize. There's no in-between on heat level -- you either Jerk This! or you don't. If you do, just keep an ice-cold Red Stripe close at hand.
Ordering is easy. Adjustable dishes are noted with the instruction, "Jerk This." Choices are impressive, too: chicken wings with cucumber dill dipping sauce; island barbecue ribs; chicken salad with fruit and mango vinaigrette; chicken pasta in spiced mango sauce with angel hair pasta; and rum-glazed pork ribs with plantains. A favorite is Callaloo's signature Dat Ting, a chubby pork chop with plantains, sweet corn and okra risotto drizzled in a passion fruit sauce.
At Callaloo, being a jerk is a good thing.
The folks at Fighter Combat International use flyers from the Top Gun program to offer you everything from dogfights to acrobatic stunts. Using laser weapons mounted on the spectacularly agile, German built, Extra-300 L, experienced pilots take you up for aerial combat against other professionals. Or maybe you don't want a dogfight. Maybe you just want to strap on a diaper and try a few face-stretching acrobatic moves like hammerheads, lomcevaks, loops and rolls. No experience required. Prices range from $285 all the way up to $955, depending upon the amount of flight time you want and how often you want to take the stick. You can be a passenger with your stomach in your mouth, or you can take the stick and shoot down the bad guy.
You go to an aquarium to see sharks swim around and eat little guppies, not to jump in the tank with them. So when you want to see the game of billiards executed as nature intended, go to where the real sharks swallow up the competition. It is said that the Hustler himself, Paul Newman, has frequented the Pool & Brew, and it's known to attract the most intimidating cadre of shooters you're likely to see in Phoenix. They don't care about what's on the jukebox or even what's on tap -- they're here for the dark, smoky ambiance, the eight bar boxes and the two nine-foot tournament-size tables. It's a good idea not to challenge any of these ice-veined top dogs to a game if you don't know what the extra foot is for, because otherwise you'll be wearing it out of your ass.
When we go to Las Vegas, it's to eat at the world-class restaurants that suddenly have populated the once buffet-for-a-buck town. When we go to Casino Arizona, it's to eat at Cholla, an amazing upscale restaurant that's completely isolated from the clinging clanging sounds of machines sucking money.
Cholla is a sure bet, though, for exemplary dinners showcasing regional and Native American cuisine. This is one game we're guaranteed to win, feasting on roasted pheasant with Cabernet cassis, peppery elk tenderloin, pan-roasted Muscovy duck and "campfire" salmon with tomatillo-lime coulis.
Figuring that there's no tax charged on this Indian reservation, Cholla is in the only casino where we've ever come out ahead of the game.
We've fallen for more "you can fly" gimmicks and contraptions than Wile E. Coyote, but with Turf, we think we're finally onto something. The school offers sightseeing rides, flight instruction, and soaring and aerobatic sailplane lessons -- and falling anvils are almost never involved.
Want to fly the friendly skies without the deafening engine noise? Take a spin in a sailplane. After you climb to the clouds behind a powered towplane, your instructor explains a few bells and whistles, then lets you take the reins. You'll even get an official pilot's logbook to commemorate your adventure.
On October 19, Turf celebrates its 35th anniversary by combining the usual rides and lessons with aerobatic demonstrations, fly-bys, a barbecue, live music and dancing. (Remember to show your Mile-High Club membership card to enjoy special promotions and discounts.)
You're feeling no pain from all of the margaritas you just drank. The mariachi is blaring song after song in a language you don't understand. But you enjoy the music and even recognize some of the songs. ("Wow, I like that one," you think as you hum along.) And the more you drink, the more you want to participate. Finally, you gather enough courage to request a song from the guy with the big hat and oversize guitar -- "Guantanamera" or "La Bamba," you say in your best Spanish. But there's so much more to mariachi than that.
Since Arizona has a large Mexican community, an abundance of Mexican restaurants and many occasions where you might be around a mariachi, we thought it would be only right for us to provide our readers with the following list -- to fit every mood:
If You Want to Break Up With Your Ex -- "Volver, Volver"
Sample lyric: "Return, return, return to arms again. I will arrive where you are; I know how to return. Return, return, return."
If You're Looking for a Mexican Version of "My Way" -- "El Rey"
Sample lyric: "With money or without money -- I always do what I want. My word is the law."
If Your Lover Is Out Loving Someone Else -- "Paloma Negra"
Sample lyric: "I am tired of waiting for you, and the morning is not here. I don't know whether to call down evil or cry for you -- black dove, where are you?"
If You're Broke but in Love -- "No Tengo Dinero"
Sample lyric: "I don't have money, and nothing to give. All I have is love."
Or If You Just Want to Hear the Best Feel-Good Mexican Song -- "La Negra"
Sample lyric: The words make no sense. But every mariachi plays it, and the crowds love it!
Seldom does the thought of camping conjure up images of submachine guns, unless you're camping at Ben Avery Shooting Facility, where nothing says "outdoor fun" like the sound of full metal jacket shells clinking on the pavement. Covering 1,650 acres, Ben Avery is touted as "the country's largest public shooting facility," with 16 competitive rifle and pistol ranges, as well as clay target, archery and airgun ranges -- and, of course, the campground. Yeah, you have to place your targets by hand, and it's hotter than hell in summer, but it's worth it just to have an open range with nothing but a mountain (and a paper cutout of a guy's head) in front of you. Ben Avery is a great place to sight in your rifle, network with other shooters, or just drop a few hundred rounds after a hard day. But the real reason we love it: Thursday nights at 7 p.m., women shoot free.
Excited about collecting all 50 state quarters? Screw that. Nedra Soloman has a state-centric collection with some bite. Inside her Katydid Insect Museum -- reputedly the only such establishment west of the Mississippi -- is a display case with space allotted for an insect from each state. (Should you find yourself in North Dakota anytime soon, perhaps you could pick her up a little something?)
In the pest-control biz since the 1960s, Nedra and husband Al decided two years ago to share their global assortment of insects, arachnids and reptiles -- all pinned, caged and encased in exhibits named for Nedra's granddaughters.
Not drawn to a building full of black widows, snakes, termites, tarantulas and Happy the downhearted iguana? Say a quick prayer to Gratus of Aosta (patron saint for the fear of insects, duh) and face your phobias. Thanks to Nedra's knowledge and charm, the whole ordeal somehow avoids The Silence of the Lambs creepiness and becomes a pleasant educational experience. After all, this is the home of a turtle that nods hello and a scorpion about to birth 25 babies. How could it not be a place of joy?
As its name implies, it's a hamburger joint. But what other burger-n-bun shack offers Saturday afternoon tea (Long Island, though), a champagne Sunday brunch, prickly pear margarita parties, Sex and the City viewing parties, service-industry happy hours, karaoke, dollar disco daze, gay lifestyle festivals and fashion shows? Only the same place that, alongside its certified Angus beef burgers, proudly serves Dom Perignon. What better to complement a bleu cheese and bacon burger than a bottle of the $150 sparkly? It adds a certain joie de vivre to a chile size smothered in onions, or a meaty mushroom burger loaded with Cheddar and jack. Mary, you make us proud.
The 1.5-mile hike through the Boyce Thompson Arboretum is gorgeous and deeply informative any time of the year. But only in fall, as you walk down through the steep-walled Queen Creek Canyon, do you pass through hundreds of different tree species from ecosystems around the world changing colors together. It's a palette seen in few places on Earth. And surprisingly, most visitors come to the Arboretum in the spring, leaving the paths fairly quiet during this spectacular show.
One caveat this fall, though. As with much of Arizona, the drought has taken its toll on the plant life, so this autumn likely will be a replay of last year, when severe heat and dry conditions muted the colors.
As for the details: Admission is $6 for adults and $3 for children 5 to 12. Children under 5 are free. The Arboretum is open every day of the year except Christmas from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., and is just about a half-hour east of Apache Junction on Highway 60.
Apache Stronghold Golf Club is becoming the hot summer golf spot for Phoenix golfers looking for something very different -- and a little bit cooler.
Part of the Apache Gold Casino/Resort complex east of Globe on the San Carlos Apache Reservation, Apache Stronghold is probably best enjoyed by the under-10-handicap crowd. Not only is it long -- more than 7,500 yards from the back tees -- but just about every shot awaits a disaster of some sort. Lightning-fast greens drop away into trouble, and undulating fairways and hidden doglegs pull even the straightest ill-conceived shots into the high Sonoran Desert.
Expect at least five shots added to your score. But also expect the hurt-so-good pleasure of being beaten by a great Tom Doak-designed course. And if that's unacceptable, just enjoy panoramic desert views unhindered by Valley development, or the 5- to 15-degree temperature reprieve you get coming up above 3,200 feet.
The San Carlos Tribe offers stay-and-play deals throughout the year. Your best bet: Load up the car with three buddies, drive up, play 18, hit the casino and spend the night -- all for $79 per person.
Recession, overbuilding and 110-degree heat can be good things.
In south Chandler, they'll allow you to play a Nicklaus Design golf course on a weekend for $9.
That's if you're willing to walk the short 18 at Bear Creek, which can be a bear in the heat. But just get there early and it's a piece of cake.
The Bear Creek short course is a maddening challenge for your short game. Nowhere in the Valley can so many sub-100-yard holes cause you so much trouble.
And because of the price, the Bear Creek short 18 is one of the best places in the Valley for a good golfer to bring his or her son or daughter. While you struggle keeping a short wedge shot on the tricky greens, kids can blast away and probably end up in equally good shape. This little course levels the playing field between parent and child, making the experience more enjoyable for the kid. And remember: If they have fun, that means you can continue to call a round of golf "quality time with the kids."
We had to rub our eyes when we read that Boyce Thompson welcomes quadrupeds (at least on leashes). But it does! We can take our pooch into Arizona's oldest historical arboretum and botanical garden without any fuss. Mining magnate Colonel William Boyce Thompson founded his arboretum in the roaring 1920s, to imbue in people an appreciation of plants. And while dogs might appreciate trees in ways different from ours, the folks at the Arboretum don't seem to mind.
Best puppy behavior is recommended (though not enforced) as you enter through the pay-by-honor snack bar. It only takes one or two snuffs of sharp cactuses to convince your pet he should stay on the trail. The walk is wonderful, easily two hours past a symphony of Arizona history, babbling brooks and traveling sculpture. You have to factor in time for bops on the head for your kids who may insist on frightening lopes along the edge of a crevasse, and to scrub off the sticky spittle of your own sweat and dried dog drool. But you, and your hyper hound, may never be as happy anywhere as you can be, for a day, at Boyce.
The expansion of the 202 Freeway east is a good thing. It allowed us to empty our car into uncharted territory in Mesa, and, as we drove around lost and clueless, to come across the Orange Patch. We were immediately taken with the farmhouse shop, surrounded by more than 200 acres of tree-ripened citrus. This is a store straight out of Harry & David's lore, stocked to the rafters with bin after bin after bag after tin of locally grown fresh-roasted-in-the-store nuts. There are also Arizona-kitsch gifts, dates, dried fruit, candies, hand-dipped chocolates, orange juice made fresh every day and ice cream. The fresh produce options are as jaw-droppingly expansive as the nut selection: fresh citrus, seasonal items such as squash, okra, tomatoes, New Mexico green chiles, Utah peaches, watermelon and cantaloupe.
Shop anywhere else? We'd have to be nuts.
Johnny Chu has mastered the art of multitasking, and we're grateful as we sip hot tea over a plate of beef and broccoli, listening to live jazz. Chu doesn't only make great Chinese food with a French flair (the portobello dishes are superb) and book all kinds of music into his hole-of-a-strip-mall venue, he offers up the walls to local artists, as well.
Be thankful for the dim lighting -- the quality of art is more varied than the quality of the spring rolls -- and appreciate the fact that whether you dig art and music or not, you can still score hot and sour soup 'til 1 a.m.
So many restaurants these days are so, well,
hot. Loud music, a crush of fashionably dressed bodies, edgy service, blaring decor, and a menu that takes an Atlas and foreign dictionaries to decipher. How are we to focus on our special someone under these conditions?
We go to Palm Court to whisper sweet nothings. This intimate space speaks of yesteryear, a candlelit room framed by picture windows overlooking the golf course, exotic floral displays, the quiet melodies of a Steinway, even a personally engraved matchbook for our party.
It's impossible not to melt in each other's eyes as our tuxedoed server prepares our entrees tableside, au flambé as appropriate. We know what these dishes are without any primer -- steak au poivre with cognac and tricolor peppercorns, duckling aux framboise in raspberry bigarade, lobster Lord Randolph with fresh mushrooms, truffles and Courvoisier. An evening of enchantment begins with escargots Bourguignonne on toasted brioche, and ends with bananas Foster.
Or, if we're really lucky, the evening's just begun.
