Goods & Services

Forget Hollywood Video and Blockbuster. And while you're at it, forget every rinky-dink indie video store in the Valley. The largest, most eclectic collection of videos is at Burton Barr Central Library, where you can rent everything from Elia Kazan's A Face in the Crowd and Robert Bresson's L'Argent to Luis Bu--uel's The Exterminating Angel and the complete PBS series of Brideshead Revisited. Want to watch a collection of silent Fatty Arbuckle shorts? Burton Barr's got it. Lindsay Anderson's O Lucky Man? It's got that, too. Like most library video collections, Burton Barr can boast its share of documentaries and educational videos. If you need a VHS bio of Hermann Goering or a course on how to pick a bottle of wine, it's still the place to hit. But what's surprising is the library's superior collection of foreign and art-house films, as well as classic Hollywood movies. Better than any video rental place in Maricopa County, and the price is right: i.e., it's free, bubba. All you need is a library card and a smile.

Readers' Choice: Movies on Central

It may look like your typical hole-in-the-mall diamonoid shop from the outside -- and even on the inside, if you only spend a couple minutes browsing the pricey engagement rings and watches in the display boxes. But loiter around the subdued Capri Jewelers for a while, and you'll see a clientele you usually don't expect in a mall jewelry store. "Aw, this is that place!" whispers a young black guy in an Atlanta Falcons jersey, pulling his three male buddies into the store and sitting down, awestruck, in front of a case showing custom-made colored-diamond pendants, rose gold rings and diamond dog tags.

The celebrity photos on the wall tell you immediately you're not at Jared's anymore: Satisfied bling-buyers, posing with the owner and saleswomen, include LL Cool J, Knoc-Turn'al, Ginuwine, Shaquille O'Neal and Junior Spivey, who reportedly paid a handsome fee to have his own likeness reproduced in 3-D on an exquisite white- and black-gold pendant. Here, diamonds aren't just a girl's best friend; Terrell Suggs and Joe Budden are cozying up on the rocks, too.

Readers' Choice: Tiffany's

These days anyone who can deconstruct a tee shirt and sew it back together feels the need to label himself or herself a "designer." While it's nice to see the local fashion scene grow, it can be frustrating to weed through the plethora of faux designers to find quality. Luckily, Mary Jane at Kontrive, a funky boutique in downtown Tempe, is around to help us on our quest for real fashion. M.J. features an eclectic mix of vintage furniture as well as accessories and clothing, highlighting the best that local fashion has to offer. The shop's buyers hand-pick work by Valley designers, and they've found an exciting mix -- from the expected regulars like Angela Johnson and T-roy to up-and-coming talent like Lauren Orciuolo.

Now that's what we call dressing for success!

Who would have thought that pineapple cilantro would be a best-selling candle scent? Or that some folks would rather light up a chardonnay than sip one?

No matter what end you like to burn the candle on, this is the place for you. Illuminations' line of signature candles includes everything from the traditional (cherry, vanilla, sandalwood) to the obscure (bamboo, lemongrass cilantro, mandarin cassis), and you can get your candle in just about any fashion: votive candles, floating candles, jar candles, pillar candles, tapered candles. You can even get a "Shadowbox Mirror," if you prefer to fix your hair by candlelight.

You glow, girl! (And guy.)

Sure, it might be cool these days to get your vicarious vid-screen thrills as a gun-toting hit man or car thief, but sometimes old-school gamers long for a simpler time when all you needed was the Konami Code to advance to the next level. So the plentiful stacks of classic titles for sale or trade at Games Plus are like a warp zone to yesteryear, with cartridges ranging from the gaming Stone Age (Atari 2600) up to the more recently outdated systems (Nintendo 64) and everything in between. The latest shrink-wrapped XBox, PS2 and GameCube discs are available, too, along with more new and used accessories than you can shake a SuperScope at. Owner Renny Mitchell and company have been in the biz for more than 27 years, long before any other used game shop pressed start, and it shows. The joystick jockeys behind the counter will even chat with customers about the latest online RPGs or -- more important to watchful parents -- refuse to sell restricted titles to the underage moppets who frequent the store. Thank goodness for the electronic baby sitter, giver of such pearls of wisdom as, "Shoot everything. If it blows up or dies, it was bad."

Is it just us, or does the cable channel American Movie Classics just suck these days? Not for nothing, but when tuning in to that particular cable station, it's nice to see some, you know, classics -- like maybe Citizen Kane or even On the Waterfront. Sixteen Candles or When Harry Met Sally . . . are all well and good, but save them for TNT. And it's a sure bet that Jaws: The Revenge or Airport '77 didn't make the AFI's "100 Years, 100 Movies" list.

Since we're tossing down our remotes anyway, we'll step off the soapbox and cruise down to Scottsdale Video to peruse its selection of more than 1,000 classic flicks stacked floor-to-ceiling on five separate wire-framed shelves. The rest of the store's sections, housing its more than 40,000 other titles up for rental, is hard to top as well, but for the moment content comes with some classic counter-programming.

How about inventing your own double feature, like perhaps Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story and Charlie Chan in Rio? What about the drive-in-worthy pairing of Dr. Phibes Rises Again followed by the juvie-delinquent classic Teenage Bad Girl (topped off with a six-pack of Schlitz and some heavy petting, of course)? Your house is the repertory house tonight, yo.

Sometimes we need our tear-jerkers and melodramas interspersed with a few singing and dancing numbers, and after watching Chicago for the thousandth time, the Cell Block Tango gets a little stale. That's why we say hooray for Bollywood. We're not purists, mind you, and we're ashamed to admit we got into the genre after seeing Heather Graham's execrable The Guru and following it up with the indie import Monsoon Wedding. So to bone up, we browsed the library of more than a thousand flicks available for rent in different languages (including Hindi, Telugu, Malayalam and Tamil) at this enormous ethnic shop, where almost an entire room is devoted to rentals, with large white bookshelves filled with VHS tapes against one wall and racks of DVDs against another. They've got all the latest titles -- such as the romantic Dil Ne Jise Apna Kaha and the high-jinks-filled terrorist action-comedy Main Hoon Na -- as well as CDs of filmi, or the pop-music-laced soundtracks.

Make it a Bollywood night.

The sign outside each of Castle Megastore's six locations in the Valley proudly declares, "Knights and Damsels Welcome." And unlike some adult shops in the Valley that are hardly hospitable to the fairer sex and where anyone should be rightly afraid of touching the merchandise without a pair of industrial-strength rubber gloves, Castle prides itself on catering to men and women, whether they be gay, straight or bi. Maybe that's why it's not unusual to see ladies browsing Castle's encyclopedic selection of DVD titles, with all possible permutations of human sexuality represented -- everything from Ten Little Piggies, for those foot fetishists out there, to Specs Appeal, featuring hot chicks in glasses. Castle also has timeless classics such as When the Boys Are Away, the Girls Will Play, Maid to Be Laid, Sorority Strap On and Pizza Boy: He Delivers.

In addition to DVDs, Castle sells most anything related to bumpin' uglies, including a vast collection of magazines, lingerie, oils and lubricants, collars and leashes, ball gags and cock rings, and nearly every kind of dildo known to man. It even peddles gag gifts like the "Wind Up Strokin' Santa," and "Your Very Own Blow Up Love Lamb." The staff is super friendly and respectful, and the stores are clean, despite the warehouse atmosphere. Don't go there lookin' for love, but hey, with a compilation of Jenna Jameson's best sex scenes in hand, love can wait, baby.

Any red-blooded single young man who spends more than a semester in or near Tempe knows that there's plentiful eye candy to be found as you're strolling the aisles of the Broadway Safeway, the closest grocery store to the campus of Arizona State University. Short of the bar scene or wandering the campus itself, this place is your best bet for scoping those cute yellow gym shorts that say "Go Devils!" on the butt. Keep your camera phones on the down-low, though, as this Safeway's been a meet market for so long it's likely the ladies know you're looking.

And speaking of the ladies, you gals should know that we often see a significant hunk of the Tempe Fire Department roaming the aisles at this Safeway as well.

In just two years, partners in life and crime Amy Young and Doug Grant have transformed their corner of Grand Avenue into the metaphysical hub for all things eccentric, esoteric and erotic. Marry the X-Files to the Juxtapoz aesthetic and add in a liberal dose of the Suicide Girls and Octave Mirbeau's Torture Garden, and you've got a gallery/shop where you can peep the latest from erotic photographers Carlos Batts, Dave Naz, and Steve Diet Goedde, buy a Taschen-Japan compendium of '50s pinup art or a lecherous colored-pencil drawing by John John Jesse, and catch a group show featuring such "ladies of lowbrow" as artists Isabel Samaras, Nicole Steen, and Rebecca Seven. Of course, disseminating erotica is but a small part of what Perihelion does. It also sells bizarre books from the likes of John Gilmore, Aleister Crowley, Adam Parfrey and others, as well as refrigerator magnets lampooning the bully-boy greed of Jerry Colangelo. At Perihelion, literati, artists and voyeurs happily co-exist within the confines of this first-rate odditorium.

We love to shop, but we love it even more when someone shops for us -- combing the world for just the right items, then gathering them together in one sweet spot for our perusal. That's what happens at a good boutique, and that's what happens at Toila. The owners of this tiny shop on Third Street have filled their space with home and personal accessories we'd like to make our own. Among our favorites: wide-brimmed San Diego hats (Oprah likes them, too); precious but affordable chandeliers; and an exclusive line of baby clothing called Chop Suey. Each item is chosen as carefully as we shop ourselves, and we have to admit that the owners' taste is, perhaps, just a little bit better than our own. That happens at a good boutique, too.

The place is packed with junk, but Sage is no junk store. Rather, we feel like we were in a cozy salon, with lighted candles and a gilt-framed sign reading, "Prices are firm but fair." Truth be told, the prices are a little high, but then, so is the quality. And really, when you're shopping for junk, who wants to pick through piles of, um, junk? Among the tastefully rusted metal pieces we saw some beautifully upholstered chairs, and nicely aged dressers. Even the bathroom at Sage is a showplace -- and showroom. It's worth the trip, even if you're only looking.

K-Momo gets props for getting Roc-A-Fella, Ecko and G Unit into the Valley's urban communities. Thanks to the Arizona chain's eight spread-out locations, you don't need to travel far to find the essential hair products too often skipped over by the Wal-Mart product buyers. And suburbanites also have easy neighborhood access to Fat Albert pullovers and Baby Phat thongs -- which may not necessarily be a good thing.

We like Haus so much, we contemplated gutting our entire shabby chic decorating theme just for one Jonathan Adler vase. This modern mecca features furniture the buyers at Copenhagen can only dream about, and a line of fabulous products for the dog-obsessed. We are also particularly fond of the paper goods.

So make a Haus call!

The Historic District Antique Market's 14,000 square feet are overrun with a colossal combination of high-quality antique furniture and irresistible vintage tchotchkes -- many of which have found their way into our home. Like the pair of massive plaster gold-leaf Grecian urn lamps we snagged for less than 20 bucks, and the French deco armoire we thought we couldn't afford -- until we saw the price tag. (When we snooped around a week later, we found the matching bedstead. Voilˆ! It's ours.) The enormously friendly staffers will not only remember your name, they'll probably remember that you collect mid-century modern office chairs and cut-glass starburst cocktail shakers, and they'll be happy to tell you which of their 78 vendors carries what you're looking for. Hurry! Something cool is waiting for you at this treasure trove of old stuff you can't live without.

You might not expect to find a "Fuck you you fucking fuck" wife beater tank top in the heart of Mesa, but for 16 years this mom-and-pop shop has defied the town's lack of diversity by selling everything from Cannibal Corpse shirts to The Passion of the Christ posters in the 3,600-square-foot corner of a strip mall, which the owners like to call their own little Switzerland. With more than a thousand different shirts in stock, Shirts 'n' Things prides itself on not being another generic mall shop with sanitized versions of edginess. Instead, it works hard to go beyond the Hot Topic inventory, and hopes to bring back a little of the '70s, when concert tees were wardrobe staples -- if they ever were, in Mesa.

You have to ask to be let into this grand gallery of artsy artifacts, but once you're inside, it's easy to see why. Less an antique shop than a museum of old-timey lighting design, Stuff Antiques provides a wonderfully illuminating trip into the history of vintage lighting. The place is mad with pole lamps and chandeliers, desk lamps and bedside lights and hurricane lanterns, all of them lovingly restored and rewired for use with newfangled electricity. A massive crystal chandelier, circa 1800, dangles elegantly near a pair of Deco-era ceramic boudoir lamps, which are crowding a funky '50s gooseneck with a recently restored parchment shade. If some of Stuff's stuff is pricey, it's because most of it is rare, none of it is repro, and all of it can be retrofitted to light up your home with the help of Stuff's friendly staff.

So what if your basement is bulging with all the stuff you already own and don't have room for? There's more to be had -- and at bargain prices -- at this collectibles mainstay on Indian School Road. Michael Todd's keeps expanding -- the store has taken over several small businesses on either side of it this past year -- to accommodate the roomfuls of gorgeous coffee tables and shiny waterfall desks and terrifically tacky paint-by-numbers sets offered for sale. Someone we know bought a stunning sofa for less than a hundred bucks; another pal found the tabletop jukebox he'd been searching for his whole life. We know we should probably sock away all the money we save by shopping at Michael Todd's, but we don't. We spend it -- on cool old lamps and tin mirrors and magnificent nightstands -- at Michael Todd's.

In north Scottsdale, one woman's trash is another woman's fabulous new famous-label wardrobe. Inside High Society Resale's "3,100 square feet of bargain hunting paradise," shopping becomes a full-contact endeavor: We throw elbows for Escada and body-check for Chanel.

Packed with everything from "blue jeans to ball gowns" -- plus Southwestern home decor items -- HSR scores new used merchandise on a daily basis -- high-end clothing, jewelry, designer handbags and shoes -- and accepts no item more than two years old. This ain't your grandma's thrift shop. High Society lures shoppers with racks of vintage apparel, lighted jewelry cases, and a coat room "brimming with the best furs in the world."

The only true fashion victims? Those who pay retail.

We almost tossed our cookies when we walked into ABC for the first time -- we got that excited. This headquarters for baking, cake decorating and party supplies is all that it promises, and more. We found the pink bakery boxes we'd been looking all over town for, the super-sturdy, every-shape-imaginable cookie cutters we'd been coveting, and armloads of party goods we never knew we needed but suddenly couldn't live without. We now have enough hot pink paper plates and napkins to last us through 2008, and a cabinet stuffed with icing implements we'll never figure out how to use. We couldn't be happier. Life is sweet.

Whether you're a novice with the needles or a veritable machine, Arizona Knitting and Needlepoint has what you need to knit. This charming, tiny yellow house is literally packed to the rafters with a selection of unusual, high-quality yarn, and the prices are fair. The staffers aren't snooty, and they maintain a helpful attitude even when confronted by rank amateurs. If they don't have a particular size and style of needle, they'll cheerfully order it, and they're happy to offer aesthetic advice on your project. (Here, unlike at some other knitting places in the Valley, you might actually feel inclined to take it.) Call first, because the shop closes for a few weeks in the summer.

See, we knew these folks were smart.

This place is like Michaels on acid -- and we mean that as a compliment. Settled in a warehouse just north of I-17 (beware of hard-to-navigate Grand Avenue nearby), Diane Ribbons started as a wholesaler to mom-and-pop craft shops. When those caved under the weight of Michaels, Diane (and we're told there really is a Diane) opened her doors to the masses. And are we glad. This dim, cavernous building houses aisle after aisle of beat-up brown boxes holding sometimes scary but always affordable treasures. Take, for example, the row of boxes of doll heads, all different shapes, sizes and expressions. Or the row of boxes of doll hands. Cree-pee. We got all excited over enormous, multihued pipe cleaners and dozens of kinds of ribbons. You name the craft, the materials for it are in this warehouse. The only bad part of the visit came when we couldn't figure out which way was out, and started to hyperventilate -- just a little -- wondering if we'd be trapped forever with all those doll parts. Luckily, it turned out we were standing right by the exit to the cashier. "First time here?" she asked cheerily, recognizing our frenzied expression.

Yes, we told her. But not our last.

This is not your childhood Hobby Hut. Instead, Beads Galore is for the grown-ups, those of us serious about copying those expensive designs we see in the Sundance and Anthropologie catalogues. Okay, so we're not there yet, but we might be with a little help from our friends at Beads Galore; some days, it feels like there's a one-to-one ratio of staffer to beader.

The walls of this small, multi-room haven are lined with every shape, size and color imaginable, including an impressive collection of semi-precious stones, our personal favorites. You'll also find all the clasps, wire and other tools you need to dress your neck (or arms, or ankles) in style.

The signs out front ask that visitors park for no longer than 19 minutes, but we gladly risk trouble each time we visit this epicenter of cool. That's because it takes us nearly that long to decide among La Grande Orange's array of salads, sandwiches, sushi and pizzas. Waiting for one of the six precious indoor tables at this upscale delicatessen/grocery can take up more time, but we don't mind -- we spend it choosing among an array of tarts and cakes, baked just a few doors down at Tammie Coe's pastry shop.

Fill your stomach and your grocery bag at La Grande Orange, and then -- if no one's busted you for breaking the 19-minute rule -- take a stroll around the complex that began with Postino, one of the city's most popular wine bars. Make sure you visit Petit Chateau, a trendy mom's dream of a baby shop, and take a peek inside Paper Joy, for invites and note cards. If you're really feeling bold, cross Campbell Avenue and check out Anna Sophia, a boutique offering everything from sparkly jewelry to oversize sparklers.

Trust us, it's worth the dirty looks you'll get when you skulk back to the car.

The Arnold Pickle and Olive Company opened its doors in 1905, when Van Buren Street was a dirt road. The Arnold family began delivering pickles, sandwiches and other products to Phoenix merchants by horse and buggy at first, and remained in business until 10 years ago when the Arnolds' grandson Phil Blair and his wife Judy found themselves with a warehouse full of empty white cypress and redwood vats. Judy wanted to put a fence around the house and asked her husband if she could use some of the wood from the vats. The fence was erected and Judy began making planters and patio furniture. Once she began designing furniture, she was having too much fun to stop, and a new business was born. The showroom, which still bears the distinct odor of pickles, is filled with rustic coffee tables, armoires, desks, lounge chairs, and other original creations designed by Judy Blair that are true pieces of Phoenix history.

Roll out the barrel!

Our hundred-dollar sofa looks like a million bucks, thanks to this treasure trove of high-end upholstery and curtain fabrics, tagged at below-bargain prices. Before we discovered Interior Fabric, we thought "mill outlet" and "fine fabrics" were mutually exclusive. Then we wandered the wide aisles of this textile paradise, fingering top-dollar damasks and finally affordable watered silks -- most at right around $10 a yard. As if scoring great deals on really quality fabric wasn't enough, there's the fun of asking the handsome help to cut samples for us.

We're planning to reupholster every piece of furniture in our home, just so we can keep heading back to this swell pile of well-organized, high-quality yard goods.

The most post-bang bang for your buck? Pregnancy tests at the dollar store. The 99-Cents Only Store, to be exact.

We used to think ourselves too good for single-price emporiums, but this enclave of "primarily name-brand consumable general merchandise" has opened our eyes to a whole new world of retail -- what with its bright lighting, clean aisles, and ever-changing variety of sausage and seafood. Even shoppers wary of perishables have to be impressed by 99-cent cans of albacore Chicken of the Sea. And come the holidays, office Secret Santas have a wealth of cheap gifts to choose from: Star Wars Episode I Intergalactic Body Wash, Kato Kaelin's unauthorized autobiography on audiocassette, and Hulk Hogan's hard-to-find album Hunkmania!

Should someone ever market taste, however, this place likely won't carry it.

The first time we walked into this central Phoenix bargain mecca, we were torn between the wall of pink plastic Hello Kitty goods and the table stacked with tastefully glazed Japanese pottery. But then it dawned on us that we can fill our basket with both, with cash to spare. This is no ordinary dollar store -- indeed, most items are actually marked $1.29. But we were struck more by the unusual merchandise than by the odd pricing. The majority of the stuff at Banzai is Japanese. So along with the typical household items you'd expect, there are also colorful, cartoony stationery and pen sets, beauty accessories like body scrubbing towels and eyelash curlers, and kitchen items galore, from sushi rice paddles to ginger graters.

Hello Kitty!

Bullet wounds, severed heads and pet puke come in all shapes and sizes at Easley's Costumes, a department store of disguises and surprises. Easley's carries so many odd accouterments, it's amazing it got them all in such a deceptively small building. Here you will find chicken feet, clown supplies, crowns and tiaras, theatrical makeup, and eight varieties of fake poop -- not to mention enough costumes and wigs to dress a small army of trick-or-treaters.

Or a large army. The place even sells plus-size costumes.

We don't know a ficus from a philodendron, but we do know that we can't visit this groovy garden center without leaving a good portion of our paycheck behind. Situated in and around a restored Craftsman bungalow in downtown Phoenix's historic Roosevelt District, Tara's Garden isn't just a heap of horticulture; it's a series of artfully crafted outdoor garden settings. Wonder how those date palms will look with your Adirondacks? Tara isn't selling hers off a shelf; she's got them "planted" around some patio furniture, so you can see how they'll look once you get them home. Not sure what to do with the succulents you just bought? Visit Tara's water garden for some tropical planting ideas. Inside, the house is bursting with ways to display your indoor plants, and with great gift ideas, dispensed by friendly, informative Tara herself. Who needs a green thumb when there's a cool old house grown over with leafy life? We rely on Tara's Garden to tell us what (and how, and where) to plant.

Alleviate the empty nest syndrome at The Flight of Phoenix, the pet project of Dale and Steve Madonick. Since 1996, the Flight folks have sought "to provide the finest in understanding and care for tropical birds." Services range from boarding and grooming to behavior modification, while the shop's finest feathered friends include macaws, caiques and parrots aplenty. A quick breakdown: Amazon parrots are "the world's best talking parrots and the best pet birds," cockatoos rank as "the most physically affectionate parrots," and African grays "the most intelligent conversationalist" . . .

The question isn't "Do they talk?" The question is "What do they talk about?" Even for non-bird lovers, the store's Web site is both educational (where else would we have learned that the hyacinth macaw is "the most bird money can buy"?) and entertaining (photos of birds lounging on La-Z-Boys).

We stopped into this just-opened, ultra-hip shop in search of shabby chic furnishings, and found stacks of it, some of which we whisked away to our own shabby home. What we didn't count on was meeting the artist-in-residence, an English bull terrier named Tarquin who peddles his paintings between naps in one corner of the store. Each of Tarquin's paw-painted pieces is a vivid, multi-hued op-art masterpiece in red and blue and yellow acrylic. Proceeds from the sale of each canine composition go to Maricopa County Animal Control, and each work comes gilt-framed and ready to hang.

Trot on over to Bullies, where you can meet the artist, buy one of his paintings, and maybe score a cool end table as well.

Times are tough in Russia these days, especially with newly self-anointed czar Vladimir considering a surname change from Putin to Lenin. So if you're friends with a Russki, a pick-me-up is in order. Matryoshka dolls are especially delightful, especially the comical versions available at Russian Market, with droll renditions of cowboy-hat-wearing Dubya or the more traditional babushka-clad female figure. If they're not down with tchotchkes, share a bottle of Russian Merlot (or any of the other 34 wines stocked by the grocer) along with some caviar.

Next, pick out a Russian greeting card from two doors down at European Gifts, drop a C-note for a porcelain tea set direct from the motherland, followed by a haircut at Eduard's Barber Shop and dinner at Restaurant Samarkand (both across the street). Despite the Eastern-bloc feel to this area, avoid asking anyone about his or her background, or you'll risk getting the evil eye and being accused of trying to dig up some kind of Mafia connection. Others might simply riff on the stereotype. "We're all in the Mafia; Russians are everywhere here," quips one heavily accented twentysomething as he cuts hair at Eduard's. "We're thinking of changing the name of this area to 19th Avenue and Russia."

Who knew? Phoenix has its own Little Russia.

Looking for some political party favors? Get your hands on the "Axis of Evil II" finger puppet set, packing tiny versions of Bush, Ashcroft, Cheney and Rumsfeld. The first "Axis of Evil" set -- more global, just as terrifying -- partners Dubya with Saddam, Kim Jong-il and Khamenei. Shopping for kids? More inspiring (and less frightening) finger puppets include "The Revolutionaries" -- Che, Gandhi, Mandela and Trotsky -- and "Great Artists" (Monet, Kahlo, van Gogh and Dal’), as well as Composers, Philosophers and Psychologists (Freud, Jung, Anne Freud and the couch). The shop's full-size puppets are equally original: We spotted a scarab beetle, meerkat, lemur, cobra, pteranodon and a plumed phoenix -- plus a pimpin' poodle in a leopard-skin suit, black boots and red shades. In addition to hawking tee shirts, tabletop stages, and puppet paintings by local artist John Yaeger, GAPT houses puppet displays and, for the near future, the Puppeteers of America Bookstore. Titles range from practical -- Stage Fright: Health & Safety in the Theater -- to fanciful -- The Wisdom of Big Bird (and the Dark Genius of Oscar the Grouch): Lessons From a Life in Feathers.

It takes more than a great selection of new and used books to get this honor. If that weren't the case, we could easily nominate Amazon.com. What truly sets Changing Hands apart from its competitors both real and virtual is the close-knit community it's nurtured. Aside from thoughtfully arranged shelves and tables of compelling reads (like the variety of titles recently featured on National Public Radio), book lovers flock here for writing workshops, book groups, kids' events, and seminars on everything from fine art to spirituality. Readings by emerging local fiction writers and poets are showcased right along with appearances by prominent national authors.

Even the store's eclectic gift selection -- aromatherapy candles, bookmarks, note cards and the like -- is tailored to the culture of reading, writing and relaxation. With the adjoining Wildflower Bread Company's cafe menu and casual vibe, there's added reason to visit -- and even less reason to go home.

Readers' Choice: Barnes & Noble

It calls itself a bookshop, but Book Gallery is really more like a classy library where all the books are for sale. Rare and out-of-print treasures are neatly organized on towering mahogany shelves surrounded by comfy chairs and tables just like you'd find in Dad's study.

The pricier, more rare titles are locked away in tidy glass cases, but the friendly, laid-back staffers (who'll never shush you, like in a real library, and who seem to know everything about each of the books and their authors) will be glad to let you handle these gems -- ancient, autographed hardcovers and wonderfully preserved first editions, some still in their dust jackets! It helps that Book Gallery stays open late -- we need as much time as possible to wander its roomy aisles in search of centuries-old best sellers.

Is it just us, or is there something a little creepy, a little Stepford Wives-ish, about scrapbooking? And since when is the word "scrapbook" a verb? If you love paper but hate scrapbooking, try AlteRnaTe: A Hands-On Paper Place. Not only does AlteRnaTe carry a wide selection of papers to drool over, including handmade, origami and hand-printed, it invites you to share in the paper love.

Once you've made your purchases, you can sit down at the fully stocked $5-an-hour "paper bar" and stamp, cut, punch, rip and paste 'til the trees are gone. Whether you're making one big Valentine or 20 party invites, you'll end up with something totally your own, and best of all, you don't have to store all those rubber stamps and interesting scraps of paper in your own damn house. Hours are unusual, so check the Web site before you go. We hold no responsibility for paper cuts.

The Headquarters has everything you're looking for in a head shop: great smoking accessories, including plenty of rolling papers, alongside the requisite tee shirts and incense. Our favorite piece of merchandise, on a recent visit, was what we feel compelled to refer to as the Old Glory bong -- a hand-blown glass one with white stars on a blue background, stretching into red and white stripes. Gives new meaning to the term "flag burning."

We had to pull an all-nighter, but our 14-page manifesto on how to unleash global anarchy is finally done. All that remains now is to run off a few dozen reproductions and use some guerrilla-distribution tactics (i.e., handing it out in front of the public library). We've only got a 10-spot, so a place where we can get more toner for our tenner would be appreciated. It's a Friday night, so an after-dark visit to Americopy is in order, since the mom-and-pop copy shop's normal bargain-basement price of 41/2 cents per page drops a penny. Low-cost but high-quality color copies are available for 89 cents when we want to print out a Photoshop-enhanced picture of Dubya for the next protest, or put it on a tee shirt for $13.

Even though it's located in the heart of tweak city (read: west Mesa), the copycat customers are a good mix of street kids copying their punk fanzines and Sunday-school teachers copying their lesson plans for the week. Maybe they'd like to read our plan for changing the world.