Megalopolitan Life

Remember the feeling of excitement as you'd wait for your friends to come over for your birthday party? That's what it felt like to welcome hundreds of thousands of visitors to the Valley for Super Bowl LVII. We spent months or longer sprucing up the town — revitalized parks, new murals and such — and when the first arrivals showed up, we were ready to party. We don't know many people who were able to actually attend the big game, but we know plenty who checked out the Super Bowl Experience or hit up one of the dozens of parties, concerts, festivals and events that dotted the city. And in case the Super Bowl wasn't exciting enough, that weekend was also the culmination of the annual Waste Management Open, which is always one of the crazier events of the year. Sure, the traffic was terrible and there was nary a restaurant reservation to be found, but we've never had more fun.

Phoenix summer is a strange season, one that we think we understand, and anticipate, until the heat is upon us, that indescribable heat — sizzling, blistering, scorching heat. This year, at ease after a rainy spring and the dreamy superbloom that followed, we thought we were prepared for the summer. Until July arrived. For 31 days, beginning on the last day of June, daily highs did not dip below 110 degrees. Somewhere in the haze of the July heat wave was a particularly dreadful stretch: three 119-degree days. Meteorologists told us daily of the heat records that were broken. Gawking pundits in New York opined on the mistakes of building a city in the desert. As best we could, we tried to stay indoors. All the while, the heat wave threw into relief the deep failures of our city, as does every summer in Phoenix: the lack of shade, the lack of housing, the lack of protections for workers out in the hellish sun, the people suffering on the streets, the slumlords ignoring the broken air conditioning, the water drying up. None of those failures are inevitable, though the heat may be. And the heat descended, unrelenting.

The list of terrible things hip-hop artist Kanye West has done could fill several columns of this publication, but we'll be damned if wearing and distributing shirts reading "White Lives Matter" isn't among the most heinous. But in the midst of all his offensive behavior, Ye forgot one little tiny thing: He didn't own the rights to the phrase. As it turns out, an anonymous citizen in Phoenix bought the trademark and turned it over to two radio hosts, Ramses Ja and Quinton Ward. Why them? The unknown person thought that the hosts of "Civic Cipher," a nationally syndicated radio show dedicated to discussing issues of race and social justice, would be the best people to keep the ugly slogan away from shirts and bumper stickers. The two men initially had concerns about the optics of owning the trademark on such a phrase, but in the end decided that the psychic burden was worth being able to lessen its visibility. As Ja told Phoenix New Times, "Someone brought it to us, and once it was in front of us, we thought it'd be more irresponsible to walk away from it."

Arizona Gov. Katie Hobbs owned the Republican legislature in 2023, vetoing some 150 bills sent her way by the mini-majority Republicans boast in both chambers. You would think that losing the governor's race, the U.S. Senate race, the state Attorney General's race and the Secretary of State's race in 2022 to Democrats would send AZ Tuskers a serious message about moderation. But Republicans, at least of the legislative variety, only march in one direction — over the cliff. Hobbs got to wield her veto stamp like some maniac on crystal meth, breaking the record for the most vetoes in a legislative session previously held by Janet Napolitano, who had 58 vetoes in 2005. As a result, all of the Republicans' wingnut ideas about banning drag shows, suppressing the vote and punishing the homeless for being homeless ended up in the square file once they hit the ninth floor. Now if Hobbs can flip the legislature blue, the GOP's long reign of legislative insanity may finally be at an end. And we'll have to start worrying about lefty legislative kookiness for a change.

You may think Kari Lake's cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, a self-described "proud election-denying deplorable" who lost the governor's race in 2022 to Katie Hobbs by more than 17,000 votes while maintaining she was the real winner of that contest. But despite her pile of dismissed lawsuits challenging the governor's race and her sluggish book sales, she still made out like the second coming of Willie Sutton, raising more than $2.5 million even after Hobbs kicked her tuchis in the general election. Now she's gearing up to run for the U.S. Senate in 2024, and thanks to the political hubris of Arizona's now-Independent Sen. Kyrsten Sinema, it's shaping up to be a three-way race, with Lake as the likely Republican nominee, U.S. Rep. Ruben Gallego as the Democratic nominee and Sinema running for reelection as an indie. Does this mean Lake, a polished, telegenic fanatic if there ever was one, could be headed for a seat in the hallowed halls of D.C.'s most exclusive club? Who'd bet against her? With a three-way split in the race, you'd be crazy to do so — unless Sinema unexpectedly takes a powder and doesn't run in 2024. Here's hoping there really is a Santa Claus, because we know what we want for Christmas this year.

U.S. Sen. Kyrsten Sinema sucks as a politician. Although she's previously cited Republican Sen. John McCain as a model, she failed to learn the one trick McCain played so well in his more than 30 years in politics: When it comes time to run again, placate the base. After you're safely elected, you can go back to treating party stalwarts like trailer trash and acting like you're Megan Thee Stallion as you stalk the halls of Congress in pink hair and a dress that glows like green neon. Only then can you own Dems with your "Fuck Off" ring, curtsy as you give a thumbs down to the minimum wage and rake in the corporate dough — all with impunity. But when your six-year term draws to a close, it's time to come home, pretend you're a Democrat, mend fences, shake hands, tame your raging ego and generally act like a human being. But Sinema, in an act of supreme selfishness, decided to ditch the Democratic party altogether and become an Independent. As an Independent, Sinema is doomed to be a spoiler, drawing enough votes from a Democratic candidate to put the Republican candidate over the hump. As a result, Ds may lose control of the U.S. Senate. And there we all are, victims of Sinema's petulant narcissism.

If Grand Canyon University thought it could discreetly shutter the Periwinkle Mobile Home Park, if it thought that the Periwinkle residents, many of whom had lived there for years, if not decades, would go quietly, then it was proved very wrong this year. To the tentacular, ever-expanding so-called Christian university, this scrap of land on Colter Street in west Phoenix was merely a real estate venture. But to 46 families, the humble park was home. And when GCU gave them all eviction notices, those families organized, banding together not just with each other but with other mobile home park residents across the Valley in similar circumstances. At Periwinkle, a leader emerged: Alondra Ruiz Vazquez, a grandmother who ran a local soccer club and lived in Periwinkle with her husband for years. Ruiz had never organized a protest. But with the support of longtime community organizers in Phoenix, she was soon chanting into bullhorns, speaking at city council meetings, and heading up a movement with her neighbors. Yet despite her efforts, despite the community rallying around her, despite teary pledges from lawmakers to do something about the displacement, GCU got what it wanted. In May, the park was closed, fracturing a community and forcing residents out of their homes. It was, in a sense, inevitable. The Periwinkle residents were up against a Goliath with flashy lawyers and the city in its pocket. Yet the impossibility of their struggle never made them hesitate. They knew their fight was a righteous one. And there's no question that the impacts of the Periwinkle protests — the way these families forced the powerful to witness the human toll of our housing crisis — will reverberate on.

Republican state Sen. Wendy Rogers is the master of the self-own. From calling herself an Oath Keeper to comparing herself to Kyle Rittenhouse to supporting the white-nationalist "great replacement theory," Rogers is nuttier than a racist Snickers bar. In 2022, the Republican-controlled Arizona Senate censured the election-denying Trump-worshipper after she called for gallows to be built for traitors and tweeted out antisemitic tropes vilifying Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky, who is Jewish. She later went all Alex Jones on us by suggesting that a mass shooting in Buffalo, N.Y., was a false-flag operation. But one of her best self-owns happened earlier this year when she took out a restraining order against Arizona Capitol Times reporter Camryn Sanchez, who had the temerity to knock on Rogers' door while investigating whether Rogers actually lives in her district. Sanchez fought the order, and after a hearing where Rogers admitted that she'd knocked on "tens of thousands" of doors as a candidate for public office, a Flagstaff judge dismissed the restraining order. Rogers was pilloried for her foolishness. Did wrong-way Wendy finally jump the shark? You would've thought so, but in July, Rogers tweeted out a video containing X-rated activities involving Hunter Biden. She later took down the video, but some opined that she may have violated Arizona's revenge porn law by posting it in the first place. Just when you think Rogers can't go lower, she slides right into the septic tank.

The only thing dumber than Democratic State Rep. Stephanie Stahl Hamilton's wacky prank of hiding Bibles in the state House lounge was the Republicans' overreaction to it. The Tucson Democrat was caught on camera picking up Bibles lying around the lounge and hiding them beneath cushions and in the refrigerator. Supposedly this was her way of making a point about the separation of church and state. Granted, that's kind of weird, but so what? Hamilton, who's a Presbyterian minister, apologized for her behavior. But that wasn't good enough for the Republicans, who tried to expel her from the House, but they fell a few votes short. They did have the votes to censure her, though, but just barely. Apparently, some of the GOP members were afraid they may have inadvertently sat on the Word of the Lord, though sources tell us that at least one nasty case of hemorrhoids was miraculously cured in this fashion. Praise Jay-sus.

Traditionally, the Arizona Legislature is a vast reservoir of bad behavior, especially by Republicans, who have controlled the state House and Senate for all of recent memory and have raged uncontrollably and without accountability for so long they no longer recognize that their time of unlimited power will soon be past tense. During the last legislative session, Republicans largely doubled down on extremism, despite their dwindling majority. But something happened when it came to expelling state Rep. Liz Harris, a fellow GOPer from Mesa who invited a conspiracy theorist to testify at a committee hearing. The conspiracy nutbag then proceeded to accuse both Democrats and Republicans of taking bribes from Mexican drug cartels. Granted, if the QAnon crackpot had taken aim only at Dems, the outcome might have been different, but she was not so discriminating, and Harris was on the hook for this nonsense. An unusual bipartisan coalition in the state House voted to expel Harris from the chamber. In some ways, the act marks a turning point for Arizona politics. Things have changed radically since the days of the Republican supermajority in the legislature. Right-wing radicalism will not always be rewarded, and if the Dems take control of one or more houses of the legislature, it will be rewarded no more.

Prop. 308's passage in 2022 undid some of the damage wrought by state Sen. Russell Pearce's Prop. 300, which was passed in 2006 and denied in-state college tuition to so-called "Dreamers," the children of immigrants brought to the U.S. illegally by their parents. Prop. 308, the brainchild of Mesa Republican Tyler Montague, opened up in-state tuition to anyone who's graduated from an Arizona high school. Montague courted both Republicans and Democrats in the effort, which was approved by voters by more than 51%. It's part of the healing process after more than a decade of hate directed at people with brown skin by nativist politicians. Montague's impassioned drive offers an example of how conservatives and liberals can cooperate in the quest for equality for all people.

Though Mayor Kate Gallego and the Greater Phoenix Chamber of Commerce would have you believe there is zero shortage of water in the Phoenix area, the reality of the drought and climate change is as plain as Lake Powell's "bathtub ring." Gov. Katie Hobbs's announcement earlier this year of a groundwater shortage limiting development in outlying cities should be a wake-up call: It's time for all of us to work to conserve this precious resource. But there is no such call from our leaders. Which is why the Rio Verde Foothills fight for drinking water is such a bad omen for the future. Scottsdale stopped supplying H2O to the unincorporated area at the beginning of the year, and it took till June for the legislature to cobble together a temporary fix that will give Rio Verde water for about three years. So, what does the subdivision do after that, turn into a pumpkin? No, because a pumpkin, like all living things, needs water to survive. The short-sightedness and cowardice of Arizona's political class offer no solutions. It remains to be seen if average citizens can fill this void in leadership. We need to, because the politicians are fiddling while Arizona runs dry and agribusiness and developers suck up what's left of the state's moisture.

That boy ain't right. And by "boy," we mean grown-ass, 25-year-old, anti-gay, antisemitic redneck bigot Ethan Schmidt-Crockett, who's made quite a name for himself through a series of self-recorded threats, criminal acts and stunts that haven't been rivaled since baby-killer J.T. Ready was still above ground. Take a look at Schmidt-Crockett's résumé. He's on record for harassing a Mesa wig shop that caters to patients who have lost hair due to chemotherapy; trampling a Target Pride display and then trying to sell the shoes he did it with for $10,000 online; targeting local synagogues; acting the fool at a Barnes & Noble and a local Church of Scientology; promising to "hunt" LGBTQ+ people, then making the same threat about Jewish people; and so on. The dude is quite obviously "tetched," as folks say down South, and probably in need of some serious meds. Or at the very least, some quality time in the pokey, which he has so far been able to avoid. Is he just another alt-right social media troll or something more sinister? Don't let his clownishness mislead you. J.T. Ready, Arizona's most infamous neo-Nazi, had a similar reputation for media stunts. Schmidt-Crockett's combination of menace, threats and need for attention may end very badly for all concerned.

There are Republicans, and then there are Republicans who know better. Blake Masters, who ran for U.S. Senate in 2022 against incumbent Democrat Mark Kelly and lost, should know better. The Stanford graduate, venture capitalist and protégé of tech billionaire Peter Thiel sure ain't dumb, so when he embraced the far-right "great replacement theory," which posits that Democrats are trying to "replace" white folk with nonwhite immigrants to the U.S., he knows exactly what he's doing and the kind of racism and hatred that he's stirring up. During the GOP primary, Masters accused "the left" of wanting to "change the demographics of this country," adding, "They want to do that so they can consolidate power and so they can never lose another election." In other words, if you're a bigot, vote for Masters because he's pro-white, right? This is the kind of racist crap Southern politicians used to spew during segregation. We'd advise Masters, who remains politically ambitious, to do better, if we thought it'd do any good. Hopefully, his words will stick to him like Scotch tape for the rest of his career in politics.

If some wicked-ass scientist combined the DNA of Rob Zombie, Wes Craven and Clive Barker, added in some stem cells, and injected it all into an artificial womb, the result might resemble Gothic drag king Daddy Satan (real name Noelle Cañez). When the Mesa resident is not onstage drooling blood and scaring the bejesus out of audiences, she's helping to organize her LGBTQ+ pals into a pro-drag army to take on some real evil — specifically, Republican attempts to ban drag and otherwise torment the gay community with hostile legislation at the Arizona State Capitol. Cañez's Daddy Satan persona is truly heart-attack-inducing, but her message is righteous and uplifting. "Drag is all about self-expression, love and teaching people that it's okay to be gay, straight, trans, a performer — it doesn't matter," Cañez told Phoenix New Times in January. She pointed out that there is "a huge drag community" in Arizona, and that many, including straight people, enjoy the art of drag. "If drag is limited, not only will people see less art, they will not be able to express themselves." Thankfully, pro-LGBTQ+ Gov. Katie Hobbs made sure those hateful bills bit the proverbial dust. Now it's time for Daddy Satan to run for the state legislature.

Comic books, peach emojis, insinuations about a rival's sexuality? Hey, it's all par for the course for your average vicious Arizona Republican primary. It's also part of a lawsuit filed by GOPer Elijah Norton against U.S. Rep. David Schweikert, who bested Norton by about 10,000 votes in the 2022 Republican primary for the 1st Congressional District. As you would expect, the Norton campaign made much of Schweikert's being sanctioned by the U.S. House with an official reprimand in 2020 over the misuse of his office's funds and campaign finance violations. The lawmaker admitted to 11 allegations and agreed to pay a $50,000 fine. In 2022, the Federal Election Commission fined him $125,000 over similar accusations. All this and more was detailed in a comic book published by Norton's campaign. For its part, Schweikert's campaign put out mailers featuring a photo of Norton, his arms around another man, with the header "Elijah Norton Isn't Being Straight With You." There were also road signs featuring the photo, stating "Elijah Norton, unfit for Congress." (A peach emoji was apparently used by Schweikert loyalists online to imply ... something.) Schweikert's pulled this sort of smear in other campaigns, but this time, Norton wants him to pay. Norton hired bulldog attorney Dennis Wilenchik and filed a defamation suit, asking for $300,000 in damages, saying the smear is false and has caused emotional distress. The suit was still ongoing as Best of Phoenix went to press. If it continues, we'd love to see the discovery, especially Schweikert's deposition, because the Congressman has a lot of explaining to do.

How did the dodgiest Arizona Attorney General of recent memory slime his way back into public office, besting incumbent Democrat Kathy Hoffman to become Arizona Superintendent of Public Instruction, a position Horne once held before moving over to the AG's office in 2011? Hoffman was a bright, fresh face, a former teacher and speech-language pathologist — not a professional politician. And her administration earned plaudits from educators. Horne, on the other hand, was plagued with ethical issues and accusations of using the AG's office for campaign purposes. The low point of his tenure as AG was an FBI tail on his car as he headed for an alleged nooner with his alleged mistress. Agents spied Horne-dog hitting another car in the parking lot adjacent to a Pita Jungle. He later pled no contest to a vehicular hit-and-run, a misdemeanor. Horne's wrong-way, down-ballot win in 2022 can be blamed on two factors: name recognition and the laziness of our local Fourth Estate, which failed to inform the public of Horne's checkered past. Has Horne grown an ethical bone in recent years? Don't bet on it. At least he's not taking up space in the AG's office, where he could do far more damage.

At age 91, will former Maricopa County Sheriff Joe Arpaio just go away already? After his office was found guilty of widespread racial profiling of Latinos in the Melendres v. Arpaio civil rights case, Arpaio defied a federal judge's injunction and was later found guilty of contempt of court. At last count, complying with the court's orders in Melendres has cost taxpayers $253 million. Since being drummed out of office in disgrace in 2016, Arpaio continues to linger on the body politic like a bad case of psoriasis. After losing a 2022 comeback bid to be mayor of Fountain Hills to Democratic incumbent Ginny Dickey, Arpaio refused to fade away, selling his signature pink underwear at gun shows and recently announcing that in 2024 he will again be a candidate for Fountain Hills' top spot. Dare to dream, huh? Arpaio runs for spite, saying he wants to end Fountain Hills' contract with the Maricopa County Sheriff's Office for law enforcement services. Supposedly, this would be his revenge against the man who beat him like a snare drum in 2016, Paul Penzone. Fortunately, the voters seem wise to this washed-up has-been's scam, and Arpaio will end his days as a loser, no matter how many times he runs for mayor.

KTAR legal analyst and Twitter personality Barry Markson doesn't sound like a lawyer, and that's a good thing, though he plays one in real life. Indeed, Markson in no way reminds us of the classic lawyer joke, "What does a lawyer get when you give him Viagra? Taller." We kid. In reality, Markson truly is the "speaker of common sense" that he bills himself as on Twitter, where he's been having a field day trying to knock some sense into Republicans regarding Trump, the "stolen" election of 2020 and the "stolen" midterms, with Kari Lake, AZ's one true governor, still waiting to be crowned the Empress of Arizona. Markson Tweeted recently, "Kari Lake is getting to the point where she can't talk without saying things [that] aren't true. The MAGA fantasy bubble must be the best high ever." Go get her, Barry, and keep preaching to the conservatives on KTAR. You might even convert a few.

The Real Thelma Johnson is the meemaw Arizona Republicans love to hate. Posing as a kindly grandma who should be fretting about her bursitis, some unknown comic genius has been skewering GOPers repeatedly since 2018 with barbs and memes aplenty. Whether it's a GIF of Kari Lake jumping a shark a la Fonzie from "Happy Days," reimagining prosecutor Jack Smith as Billy Jack, or joking about Turning Point USA's Charlie Kirk's massive head being used to block the sun, Thelma rattles off more burns than a seatbelt in July. Mark Finchem, Donald Trump, Anthony Kern — they all get their whacks. Her series of fake endorsements for Lake's candidacy from the likes of Jim Jones, Joseph Stalin and Joseph Goebbels are the stuff of legend. Nor is she above the occasional groaner: "Watching Trump reminded me I got arrested once for stealing a kitchen utensil from Target. I knew that might happen but it was a whisk I was willing to take." Don Rickles may be dead, but his spirit lives on in The Real Thelma Johnson.

Podcaster, commentator and man-about-town Jon Gabriel, editor-in-chief of Ricochet.com, is a throwback to the days when conservatives were smart — like, William F. Buckley-smart. Once upon a time, conservatives quoted ancient texts and made sly jokes at the expense of their adversaries and themselves. On Twitter, Gabriel's given to mockery, like when he quoted a pompous David Brooks after Brooks began a Tweet by referring to himself as a member of the "educated class." Gabriel wrote, "From now on, I'm beginning every article with 'We in the educated class ...'" He also offers self-owns like "Just submitted an article that will be a cultural touchstone for the next few decades." You may disagree with his political columns, but you cannot say they lack reason or wit. More conservatives like Mr. Gabriel, please.

Laurie Roberts is about the only reason we bother to read The Arizona Republic these days. Let's be real, Gannett has nearly sucked the Rep dry of all value, and in about five years or less, there will be nothing left but the husk and E.J. Montini. Worry not for the ever-acerbic Roberts, though. She's been there long enough that her buyout will no doubt be fat, and if she goes the route of many journos these days and signs up for Substack, people will actually pay to read her columns. (Novel idea, that.) In recent years, Roberts has targeted mostly Republican stupidity. But as our purple state trends blue, you can expect her to shift like a mood ring to assailing Democrat inanity, of which there will be plenty. Roberts, thankfully, is an equal-opportunity cynic.

Russell Pearce's death on Jan. 5, at age 75 epitomizes a famous line from Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar": "The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones." So it is with Pearce, author and primary pusher of Arizona's racist "papers please" law, SB 1070, which effectively turned local police into immigration agents with a green light to pull over brown people on the flimsiest of excuses and then inquire into their immigration status. Passed in 2010, the law sparked a boycott of Arizona, multiple lawsuits and a wave of anti-Hispanic hatred across the state. Pearce's buddy Sheriff Joe Arpaio used it to terrorize communities of color, while the rest of the country looked on in horror. Pearce became president of the Arizona Senate and ruled with an iron hand. But not for long. Against all odds, Pearce's opponents forced a historic recall election in his Mesa district, and Pearce was defeated by fellow Republican Jerry Lewis. The U.S. Supreme Court threw out much of SB 1070, but let the section allowing local police to do immigration checks remain, with certain restrictions. Pearce's name became a byword for racism. He never regained office.

Bigoted laws and bad policy ideas are constantly emerging, zombielike, from the muck of the Arizona legislature. Yet during the 2023 session, Arizona's Republican lawmakers launched new and particularly vicious attacks on LGBTQ+ people in the state: bills targeting drag performers, bills limiting health care for transgender people and most of all, bills affecting LGBTQ+ youth. Arizona's schools — and students — were a key target for lawmakers. They proposed bills this year that would prevent teachers from using students' pronouns and bar transgender pupils from using bathrooms that aligned with their gender. Most of these bills didn't make it past the desk of Gov. Katie Hobbs. And that was thanks in part to activism by students across the state, including Support Equality AZ Schools, a student collective led by Chandler high schooler Dawn Shim. Beginning in September 2022, after former Gov. Doug Ducey signed several anti-LGBTQ+ bills into law, and continuing through 2023, Shim helped organize walkouts out at their own school and high schools across the Valley, drawing awareness to the anti-LGBTQ+ bills flooding the legislature; the anti-LGBTQ+ crusades of Tom Horne, the new Arizona education chief; and the hostile school environments that queer youth often encounter in Arizona. Hundreds of students took to the streets — and schoolyards — as a result of SEAZS's organizing. But it was, of course, deeply unfair that the walkouts were necessary at all. In the words of one student organizer at a rally, it proved that Arizona had devolved into "pseudo-apocalyptic bullshit."

Carlos Garcia cut his teeth as an activist fighting Arizona's bigoted immigration law, SB 1070, and helping lead the fight against Maricopa County's racist Sheriff Joe Arpaio. Typically, you would find Garcia in the streets, leading protesters and demanding an end to the mistreatment of his community by law enforcement. In 2019, he became a politician, winning a special election to represent District 8 on the Phoenix City Council. There, he broke all of the rules, often wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with "Stop Police Brutality" and spearheading a successful drive to create a civilian review board to oversee the Phoenix Police Department. In doing so, he butted heads with Mayor Kate Gallego, who engineered a challenge to Garcia by cop-friendly attorney Kesha Hodge Washington. Backed by the Democratic establishment and the real-estate crowd, she handily beat Garcia in a runoff election. So now, we're back to a City Council dominated by status-quo Dems, but at least Garcia tried to change things in a town run by cops and developers. For a moment, he gave us hope.

On July 6, just two days after Phoenix celebrated all things American, Congressional Republican candidate Jerone Davison dropped a political ad that can only be described as confounding. The ad begins with a horde of "Democrats" wearing KKK hoods while wielding bats, garden hoes and, perplexingly, a hatchet, as they ascend on Davison's home in broad daylight. Next, Davison does his best James Bond impression and stares down the assailants while brandishing an AR-15 rifle. And now for the best, maybe worst, moment of the video — Davison's voiceover. "When this rifle is the only thing standing between your family and a dozen angry Democrats in Klan hoods, you just might need that semiautomatic and all 30 rounds." The ad's final scene depicts a Klan mask floating in an empty pool while Davison stares epically into the setting sun. The ad was decried for its promotion of violence, and it did little to help Davison's political career. He ultimately came in dead last in the Republican primary for U.S. House Arizona District 4, but his cringy ad scored him 31,000 post likes on Twitter — not bad for a guy who only secured 9,500 votes.

The Zone — a stretch of downtown Phoenix along Jefferson Street between Ninth and 13th avenues — has been called one of the largest homeless encampments in the nation. It has also become a battleground pitting local businesses against some 1,000 unsheltered individuals who call the area home. On Aug. 10, 2022, business owners in the Zone filed suit against the city for "completely abdicating its responsibility" to police the area. While the suit continued to make its way through the court system, Phoenix Kitchens, a subsidiary of California-based company Maker Kitchens, took matters into its own hands. Under the guise of a utility work permit, the company installed massive metal dinosaur sculptures along its property line on Ninth Avenue in November 2022. Electric Supply, a company located near Maker Kitchens, also helped fund the installation, though the company was not a part of the Aug. 10 lawsuit. Electric Supply's president, Bill Morlan said he "felt [he] could help keep the area safe and clean" by installing the sculptures as a deterrent for Zone residents to set up camp. The city felt differently, and the sculptures were ordered to be removed.

In a moment when LGBTQ+ Arizonans were facing mounting discrimination and vitriol — in the classroom, out on the streets and in the halls of the Arizona statehouse — Lookout Phoenix arrived, a news organization promising to tell the stories and uplift the voices of Arizona's LGBTQ+ residents. The organization was cofounded by Joseph Jaafari, a former investigative reporter at The Arizona Republic. The small team has managed to get Lookout off the ground and started making plans for its expansion — no small feat, and a rare piece of good news about the news in a crumbling media market, both in Arizona and around the country. An important component of Lookout's work is its weekly (sometimes biweekly) newsletter, which highlights the key stories about LGBTQ+ rights in the state, alongside incisive analysis about the state of Arizona politics. Recent newsletter editions have featured in-depth coverage on the ongoing legal battle around the rights of trans student athletes in Arizona, along with roundups of the most important news of the day. "Fierce. Independent. Queer" is Lookout's slogan, and so far, it has more than lived up to that promise.

If all we did was look at the gorgeous nature photography on Arizona Highways' Instagram, it would still be one of our favorite accounts. But the perenially beloved magazine dedicated to celebrating our state's natural beauty knows how to write an engaging caption as well. Whether we're reading fun facts about Arizona's national parks on the National Park Service's anniversary or getting context about an image with words from its photographer, we often come away from a scrolling session a little more knowledgeable. In that way, Arizona Highways' Instagram account is a feast for the eyes and the mind.

Camaron Stevenson, founding editor of Arizona media outlet The Copper Courier, may have started out in print, but he shines on TikTok, where he brings important stories to his 20,000 followers. Whether he's discussing the latest legislative shenanigans at the Arizona State Capitol, visiting a local Target to see where they moved their Pride display or covering issues like the eviction by Grand Canyon University of the mobile home park residents next door, Stevenson explains things clearly, succinctly and without bias. The viewer comes away feeling educated but not condescended to. Stevenson has only been posting TikToks since May, but we hope he's a presence on the app for a long time to come.

The framework of "Rim to River: Looking Into the Heart of Arizona," published by University of Arizona Press, is a north-to-south trek author Tom Zoellner takes across our fair state on the Arizona Trail. Along the way, Zoellner (a former Phoenix New Times contributor) considers the history, culture, politics, food and geography of the state in his typically engaging style. The fifth-generation Arizonan blends affection for his homeland with clear-eyed consideration of its faults, and the result is a must-read book for anyone interested in the Grand Canyon State. Zoellner was the one walking, but he takes the reader along with him for the journey.

Of all the ways we could describe what we see at Scottsdale Museum Contemporary Art, the most apt word may be "surprising." Each new exhibition brings work that dazzles and challenges us. This year alone, the museum showed the toll poor air quality takes on the human body through "The Air Around Us," a series of installations around the Valley; and showed the cracks in modern human interaction in "Language in Times of Miscommunication." But we also love the things about SMoCA that don't change, like James Turrell's austerely beautiful Skyspace and a super-cool gift shop. It all adds up to the best art museum in town.

A number of the excellent museums around the Valley offer free or pay-what-you-wish admission at certain days and times, and for that we're grateful. But we're deeply appreciative of the fact that any time we want to check out what's new at ASU Art Museum, it costs us exactly zero dollars. The building itself, located at Arizona State University's Tempe campus, is a delight, an angular labyrinth that we love to explore. But the art is always a sight to behold as well. Just this year, we've enjoyed the fascinating "Lucha Libre: Beyond the Arenas," an exhibit examining the history and culture surrounding the sport, and "Everything Is a Little Fuzzy," thought-provoking works about life in a post-pandemic world. That one you can see at the museum through the end of this year.

For decades, Phoenicians both born here or transplanted were taught that the Indigenous residents of the area just "disappeared" one day. As with much Native history retold by non-Native people, it was bunk. Tribes who live here today have roots reaching back to 1 A.D. This name change is notable because it stems from a long-overdue collaboration between the museum, which opened in 1929, and local Indigenous communities so they could finally tell their own stories. When Pueblo Grande Museum became S'edav Va'aki Museum in March, it was more than a formality. It recognizes the living cultures and homelands of the Native peoples who have been here for centuries and more accurately represents their heritage. "Pueblo Grande" means "large village" in Spanish and reflects a language with no connection to the people. S'edav Va'aki, pronounced "suh-UH-dahf VAH-ah-kee," is an O'odham name for the large central (S'edav) platform mound (Va'aki) that was the ceremonial house of a village in the Salt River Valley. Visitors can see the preserved mound just outside of the museum, which is undergoing a major overhaul of signage and exhibits to add context to the true history of the region's Indigenous people.

Many art galleries in metro Phoenix cluster together in certain geographic areas: Roosevelt Row, Old Town Scottsdale, Grand Avenue. And then there's Lisa Sette Gallery, which stands alone not only on a map but also in reputation. Sette's gallery, which is rapidly approaching its 40th anniversary, has moved around the Valley before settling in its current location near Third Street and Thomas Road. What hasn't shifted is the gallery's stellar offerings from top artists in Phoenix and beyond. A favorite show this year was "Dark Garden" featuring mixed-media work by local artist Mayme Kratz. The gorgeous, moody pieces celebrate the harsh beauty of the desert. We celebrate Lisa Sette Gallery for consistently showing some of the best work in Phoenix.

If you dig the look of Taco Chelo, Barrio Queen and Ghost Ranch, visit this new studio in the heart of the Grand Avenue arts district where the artist responsible for those vibes, Gennaro Garcia, creates a range of distinctly Mexican-inspired works. He churns out everything from highly collectible paintings, prints, sculptures, wood carvings and Talavera pottery to more affordable T-shirts, stickers and tote bags. Garcia's favorite subjects include women (particularly Frida Kahlo), skulls and food, and, as an avid cook himself, he plans to use the space to host intimate dinners co-created with various chef friends. Maybe he'll even serve wine from a collaboration he's doing with a producer out of Valle de Guadalupe — he plans to launch the vino this year and considers it yet another art form. The studio is open by appointment and on some First Fridays; check his Instagram page to keep up.

How does one decide the best art exhibit of the year? Is it the prominence of the artist or the cultural significance of the work? If we're going strictly by how many people saw and enjoyed the art, the clear winner is "Mr.: You Can Hear the Song of This Town," which occupied the Steele Gallery at Phoenix Art Museum this past winter. The contemporary Japanese artist's work — bright, whimsical and inspired by anime — was a delight for eyes of any age and any level of artistic knowledge, and we watched during one of the museum's PhxArt After Hours events as attendees stood rapt, scanning the intricate, colorful pieces to glean every detail.

In our opinion, there's nothing more glorious than Phoenix in November, when the weather has finally cooled and it's once again a joy to be outside. It's just one reason why the annual Canal Convergence event, produced by Scottsdale Public Art, is the best art festival of the year. The tagline of Canal Convergence is "Water + Art + Light," and the inventive light-based works created by artists from all over the world are just the beginning. For 10 days, the Scottsdale Waterfront is abuzz with creativity and excitement. There are tours of the area, art-making activities for all ages, live music, dance performances, food and drink vendors and more. Much of the programming is free, which is just one more reason we eagerly await the return of Canal Convergence each year.

Though off the beaten path, Alwun House is always one of our must-visit First Friday destinations. The big orange house has been a haven for the Phoenix art community for 50 years and shows no sign of changing. Owners Kim Moody and Dana Johnson have kept things fresh by continuing to show work by some of Phoenix's best artists, hosting marquee events like the local Burning Man community's IgNIGHT party and opening the Art Park in the space next door, giving them more room to entertain and delight the art-loving denizens of the city. Make sure you check the calendar before you go, though; some events, like Exotic Art Show, aren't exactly family-friendly.

Sadly (or not, depending on your point of view), Super Bowl weekend has come and gone. But the best souvenir of those crazy days is "Welcome to Phoenix," the bright, beautiful mural that still graces Adams Street between First and Second streets. Painted by local artist Kayla Newnam, the mural is 10 feet high and a whopping 190 feet long. Desert images like gila monsters, cactuses and mountains are done in bold colors, all surrounded by a striking sunset. Newnam's design was chosen out of almost 50 submitted, and the people of Phoenix were able to participate in bringing it to life; Newnam hosted two Community Paint Days during the creation process. Next year, "Welcome to Phoenix" will greet visitors arriving for the NCAA Men's Final Four.

The 2023 Super Bowl wasn't just an opportunity to show the world our excellent nightlife and gorgeous weather; the depth of our city's artistic talent was also on full display. One of the most prominent examples was Lucinda Hinojos's design for the Super Bowl tickets themselves. The Vince Lombardi Trophy stands amid a boldly colored desert landscape that's also graced by drawings of Native Americans in traditional dress, hummingbirds, cactuses and more. The NFL tapped Hinojos, who also goes by the moniker "La Morena," to create art for a number of related pieces, including a souvenir football. In case you didn't pick up one of those (or snag a ticket for the big game), you can see a mural featuring her designs near First and Washington streets.

Skateboarding plays an important role in Indigenous communities. As a 2018 Skateism.com article explains, "Where societies built upon the principle of movement, of following the natural environment, are restricted to plots of land, skateboarding is now recapturing that connection with the world around them." So when the U.S. Postal Service decided to make an "Art of the Skateboard" stamp series, it reached to out four Native artists for the designs, including Arizona native and skateboarder Di'Orr Greenwood, a member of the Navajo Nation. Her skateboard incorporates eagle feathers and a design reminiscent of a rising sun. The new stamps were unveiled in a dedicated ceremony in March at a Phoenix skate park and are designated as Forever stamps, meaning we can appreciate their beauty for years to come.

Imagine an art gallery that's always free, open 24/7 and full of work by some of Phoenix's most prominent artists. That's the Oak Street Alley, a small, narrow stretch of road in central Phoenix that runs along Oak Street between approximately 14th and 15th streets. Stroll down the street (or drive, but walking's better) and take in all kinds of murals: pop-culture-related, desert-themed, political or just plain beautiful. The offerings change every once in a while, so we recommend occasional visits to see what's new. You can stop by today, or you can wait for the Oak Street Alley Mural Festival, an annual event usually held in the spring, when the community comes together to celebrate this little stretch of art with vendors, live music, community painting events and more.

Downtown Phoenix's First Friday artwalk continues to increase in size, scope and chaos, but for our money, the one place we try not to miss lies just north of Roosevelt Row. Heard Museum, a world-renowned repository of Native American art, consistently offers some of the best First Friday programming around. In June 2022, it served up an all-Indigenous drag show in honor of Pride Month; this past January, to celebrate the opening of an exhibit about surfing, First Friday attendees witnessed a Hawaiian blessing and enjoyed Hawaiian music and dancing. Besides the special programming, First Friday is also a chance to check out the museum's excellent permanent collection and current exhibitions, an exploration that normally costs more than $20 per person. Best of all, the museum's First Friday hours begin at 5 p.m., meaning you can hit it first before heading downtown for the rest of your evening.

The idea of a "digital future" is often a dystopic one, à la "Black Mirror": brains uploaded to the cloud, swivel cameras following your every move. Yet local arts magazine Digital Future — which publishes a sometimes-quarterly print issue of photography, fine arts and literary work — is interested in the gritty art that exists, already, in our digital world, warped by it but also shaping it. The magazine presents work by local photographers and artists alongside essays on Phoenix's underground music scenes and subcultures, among other topics, all presented beautifully and minimally on big glossy white pages. You can find copies of the publication at hip locales around downtown Phoenix, like Futuro and Central Records, though the magazine often sells out quickly. Over the past year, Digital Future has proved an exciting new platform for up-and-coming Phoenix artists — charting out its own vision of the future, digital and tangible, in the city.

Despite the fact that Phoenix was built on Native lands and the state has 22 tribal communities, Indigenous culture isn't often something non-Native people in Arizona know much about. Remedy that by marking the calendar for the Indigenous Peoples' Phoenix Fest on Indigenous Peoples' Day in October, when Cahokia PHX transforms Roosevelt Row into a massive celebration organized by and featuring Indigenous culture and talent. Last year's second annual event — the first time it spread beyond Cahokia PHX's space — was a huge hit, probably because it offered so much more than most festivals. It spreads out over several city blocks, drawing thousands to enjoy collaborative and multifaceted experiences beyond the usual entertainment and booths. Last year included a fashion show, skateboarding competition, film screenings, live mural creation, food trucks, music, storytelling, exhibits, Indigenous vendor booths and more. And, unlike most festivals that take place in the daytime, this one starts in the late afternoon and goes well past dark, so you can hang out until the end to experience as many of the elements as possible.

Why do hundreds of thousands of Valley residents tune to local National Public Radio member station KJZZ on the daily? (Hint: It's not just to hear the smooth tones of "All Things Considered" co-host Ari Shapiro.) Some listeners want to stay dialed into local, national and international headlines. Others find it on the FM dial after dark for jazz and blues music. We're into weekend shows like "Snap Judgment," "The Moth Radio Hour" and "Wait Wait ... Don't Tell Me!" that entertain and inform. More locals than ever have been tuning into the listener-supported KJZZ in recent years, helping it become one of Phoenix's top three stations, according to Nielsen Audio Ratings. It's not surprising, given the diversity and popularity of its programming, including "The Show," where co-hosts Lauren Gilger and Mark Brodie focus on local matters every weekday morning. It's just one reason why we'll keep KJZZ locked into our FM presets.

It's the little touches that make a theatergoing experience particularly enjoyable. When we go to a show at ASU Gammage on the university's Tempe campus, we appreciate that the concession prices are reasonable — even the themed cocktails created for each production. An upgrade to the outdated restrooms several years ago means that we're in and out much faster. But mostly, we've been going to Gammage for decades because it's the best place in town to see the plays and musicals coming out of the Great White Way. There's hardly a bad seat in the house, and each season Gammage offers some of the hottest touring productions, including shows like "Beetlejuice," "Six" and "Hamilton," the latter of which is coming back in 2024, FYI. And we're always happy to visit the building itself, a Frank Lloyd Wright design that's become a iconic Tempe landmark.

On the calendar of annual events in Phoenix, there are a few we particularly look forward to. And when spring takes a curtsy and gives way to summer, we begin to anticipate Ballet Arizona's collaboration with Desert Botanical Garden on one of its outdoor performances. This year's program, held on the grounds of the garden, was titled "The Rite of Spring," a world premiere by Ib Andersen, Ballet Arizona's artistic director. Modern choreography was set to Stravinsky's music, all backdropped by the mountains of Papago Park. Like all of Ballet Arizona's outdoor shows, the program was short but powerful, with the beauty of the landscape accenting the movement on stage. We can't wait to see what next year's iteration is.

The great burlesque revival of the late 1990s and early 2000s spawned local troupes worldwide, and this is the name to look for when you want to see top-notch talent in Phoenix. The performers reel in the audience with more than a ruffle of a feather boa or toss of the pastie tassel — they're all about making eye contact and creating a feeling of connection. Even better, Spellbound is not simply a "hot chick parade" but instead showcases people who have a variety of looks, ages and sizes. All exude the kind of body-positive confidence that makes spectators allies rather than simply onlookers. For an intimate show, catch the local leading ladies at the Grey Hen Rx in Century Grand every second Wednesday, where they put on a 20-minute cabaret-style show three times a night. For a bigger spectacle that includes national and international dancers and lasts two-and-a-half hours, check the schedule for almost monthly shows at The Grand in Central Phoenix.

Every two weeks or so at The Rebel Lounge, a hodgepodge group of poets file, one by one, onto the shabby, bright stage. This is the Ghost Poetry Show, a local poetry slam where slam poets, new and old, compete before a friendly audience. The group was started by a few local poets as venues began to reopen their doors after the pandemic. Their hope was to help revive Phoenix's literary scene, and revive it they did. In addition to the consistent, well-attended shows at The Rebel Lounge in midtown and sometimes elsewhere in the Valley, Ghost Poetry has created a thriving community of slam poets in Phoenix. The stage at a Ghost show is open to both newbies and seasoned poets, making the slam both engaging and decidedly welcome. Poets spill secrets, crack jokes, stumble a little. The passion and melodrama that's characteristic of slam poetry resounds in the small venue. And at the end of it all, the crowd chooses a winner — whose title will hold at least until the next slam comes around.

What do we love about Civic Center Library, the main branch of the Scottsdale public library system? The airy building is majestic without being intimidating. The selection of books, DVDs and CDs is excellent. There's programming for all ages and a wide range of interests, from storytime for toddlers to computer classes, film series and book clubs for adults. The children's room, designed to look like a fairytale forest complete with a castle with reading nooks, is one of the most charming places in the Valley. Rotating art exhibitions produced by Scottsdale Public Art mean that there's always something to look at besides the shelves. We love to make our selections and then find a seat near the enormous windows that overlook the Civic Center Lawn, where the book in our lap and the view in front of us compete for attention.

Weebs and otaku of Phoenix, rejoice. It's a great time to be a fan of anime and manga. Interest in the Japanese-born art forms is at an all-time high nationally and locally, and the number of cons in Arizona has tripled in the last three years. At the forefront of the anime boom in the Valley is Saboten Con, which serves up four days of vendors, artists, voice actors and cosplay over Labor Day weekend at the Sheraton Phoenix Downtown Hotel. Since launching in 2008, it's become Arizona's largest and longest-running anime event and has been synonymous with both local anime fandom and inclusivity. Organizers Greg and Stacy Fennell eschew gatekeeping at their event, welcoming casuals and newbies eager to embrace, explore and experience their newfound anime obsession. It helped Saboten Con's turnout swell, particularly this year when a record-setting 29,000 people swarmed the Sheraton and the nearby Renaissance Phoenix Downtown Hotel. There was also a new gaming and esports side event called SaboSlam, which Greg says is aimed at making the convention even more all-encompassing. "If you're into any part of [anime] culture at all, you're going to find something to do over the weekend," he says.

Not even Pollack Tempe Cinemas is immune to the evils of inflation. You'll be shocked to know that in the last half-decade, ticket prices have risen from $3 to a whopping $3.50 per show, which of course means that the Tempe theater is still the best deal in town. Pollack Tempe Cinemas shows second-run movies (meaning the ones that have already been in theaters for several weeks or longer), plus a selection of popular modern classics such as the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy and the original animated version of "The Little Mermaid." And the movies aren't the only great thing about the theater. Concession prices are similarly affordable, and owner Michael Pollack has tricked out the lobby with a fun assortment of cinematic memorabilia, including a number of life-size statues of beloved film characters. Let's all go to the movies.

It's been a tough few years for movie theaters. So, Harkins — the largest independently owned theater company in the U.S. — did what you might expect from a plucky Arizona-based favorite: Wrap their future around a Sonoran hot dog. It takes Best Supporting Actor on the menu of Ciné Grill, the company's first foray into dine-in movie theaters that debuted at Lake Pleasant Towne Center in July. Besides the tasty menu — yes, there's booze, mocktails and seltzers, too — there are plush recliners, personal tabletops and call-to-order push buttons in case you forget to add a side of crispy roasted Brussels sprouts to your movie-going meal. Ciné Grill delivers the luxe that movie nights have needed. If Peoria is too far of a drive, Harkins plans to open a second Ciné Grill in 2024 at the former Paradise Valley Mall site near Cactus Road and Tatum Boulevard.

When we're in the mood to catch classic films on the big screen, it's hard to beat the diverse selection being screened at the Valley's three Majestic Neighborhood Cinema Grills. Sure, your neighborhood theater might have multiple showings of "Barbie," but how about showing more than one or two older movies a week? The folks at the Majestic mix the old and the new, programming a curated lineup of cult classics, arthouse fare, grindhouse flicks, anime imports, all-time favorites and even celluloid oddities ("Reefer Madness" anyone?) to complement their slate of the first-run releases. There are also weekly series like the horror-focused Cinematery Tuesdays and monthly 35 mm screenings of repertory films. And you won't want to miss lively events like movie parties featuring singalongs, interactive props and special food and drink pairings. Each Majestic location also has a full bar, in case you'd like some suds or spirits to enhance your cinematic experience.

Correct us if we're wrong, but the point of a staycation is to get away from regular life and pretend that we're on vacation and not just a few miles from our dentist's office. It's hard to do that if we're out and about in the city, so when it's time to take a staycation, we opt for Andaz Scottsdale Resort & Bungalows, where there's plenty to keep us busy. Besides the understatedly luxe rooms, Andaz offers guests three pools, one of which is adults only, plus complimentary activities like a nightly happy hour, yoga and meditation classes and more. And those are just the things that are included in your stay; paid experiences include spa treatments, mixology classes and of course dinner at Weft + Warp, Andaz's award-winning restaurant. We recommend taking the pasta class, a fun and interactive hands-on experience. A staycation at Andaz is enough to make you forget you're still in town.

Is The Egyptian Motor Hotel the most luxurious hotel in town? Nope. Is it the most fun? It's a strong contender. Part of Best Western's BW Signature Collection, The Egyptian opened to much fanfare in January after many years of lying in disrepair and several more being renovated. The result is a boutique hotel that's as much fun to hang out at as it is to stay. The rooms are music-themed and come with cute and thoughtful touches like Bluetooth speakers, Brita water pitchers and smart TVs that allow you to log into your streaming services and watch your shows. Around the property, you can cool off in the shallow lounging pool, play some foosball and catch some of The Egyptian's live entertainment — which includes DJs, live bands, karaoke and more — while enjoying a drink at the outdoor bar. The popular Chilte restaurant is there for your dining needs, and if you want to leave for a bit and come back to your room later, you're quite close to the excitement of downtown Phoenix.

Although watching people drunkenly stumble down Roosevelt Row on a Saturday night is always an enjoyable people-watching experience, nothing beats Phoenix Fan Fusion. This annual celebration of inner geekdom is nothing short of a visual feast. Scantily clad anime characters come-to-life mix with oversized furries throughout the halls of the Phoenix Convention Center. Batman and the Joker call a temporary truce from their battle royale to ride the escalator together, while horror characters like Pyramid Head perform a hauntingly beautiful musical routine as part of Dragstravaganza. Outside the walls of the convention center, the vibrant cosplayers hop on the Valley Metro Rail, blithely unaware of stares from the normies. For three full days each summer, the city is overtaken by people proudly showing their authentic selves, and it's nothing short of glorious. Let that geek flag fly, Phoenix.

A garden in the middle of Phoenix? It's hard to believe a mini-waterfall, small ponds and dense greenery exist in the desert, but the Japanese Friendship Garden (also known as Ro Ho En) is a memorable oasis in the hottest city in the country. As you walk through the almost-4-acre grounds, it's hard to miss the intersection between tranquility, the Japanese landscape design and the bright orange koi fish swimming in the water. For those who want an immersive experience, regular tea ceremonies are held daily. This mini-oasis is simple, but offers a welcome refuge from the desert landscape and the noise of the city. You can sit in a quiet spot to meditate or snap some photos to prove to others that the desert can also be lush in certain places.

Phoenicians are lucky to experience a UNESCO World Heritage Site at the foothills of the McDowell Mountains. The legendary architect Frank Lloyd Wright made Taliesin West his home until 1959. The buildings overlook a vast landscape, and visitors can view the interior, admiring the office space, a private home theater and Asian art. Docents offer a 90-minute walking tour across the property, allowing attendees learn about Wright, his architecture and his life. Tours are offered during the day and night. Taliesin West was built almost 80 years ago, and touring the property means taking a look at how architecture takes shape in the middle of the desert. Wright's ultimate goal was "to make life more beautiful, the world a better one for living in and to give reason, rhyme to the meaning of life." For those who want to do a deeper dive into Wright's philosophy, special workshops and exhibitions are offered throughout the year.

When it comes to gonzo events, absolutely nothing in the Valley is like the Phoenix Idiotarod. On one chaos-filled Saturday each February, gangs of self-proclaimed "idiots" dress in costumes and race custom-decorated shopping carts around downtown Phoenix in a massively madcap competition. Naturally, alcohol is involved. Equal parts urban prank, bar crawl, art spectacle and IRL episode of "Jackass," the Idiotarod is organized by the Arizona Cacophony Society and is the most drunken fun you can have in costume outside of a wild Halloween party. Here's the setup: Teams of five or more choose a theme inspired by pop culture or other subject matter and gear up both themselves and their cart. Hilarity ensues, as do inebriated antics. Over the next several hours, teams race to nearby bars and checkpoints, sabotage competing teams and engage in challenges like limbo dance-offs or dueling with inflatable penises. Is it scandalous and shocking? Frequently, but it's all in good fun. If you'd like to join these idiots in action, registrations open in January via the Society's website. Athleticism is optional, but enthusiasm, a warped sense of humor and a strong liver are all useful.

In our fast-paced world, parades seem awfully quaint. Which is why we love to slow down for a bit and take in the APS Electric Light Parade each year. At a time when the holidays make our crazy existence even crazier, we post up along Central Avenue and wait for the brightly lit vehicles to crawl by. We're not rushing to buy gifts or hurrying to a holiday party; the only thing we have to do in this moment is enjoy the company of whoever we're with, bask in the colors and the sounds and take in the crisp, late fall air. It's a welcome moment of relaxation and a wonderful way to usher in the holiday season.

It's hard to define what's helped forge Phoenix's identity. One of the most essential aspects of the Valley, though, has been its constant sense of evolution — the city's always growing and expanding in new and novel ways. There's no better way to experience that microcosm than with a ride west to east across Camelback Road from Central Avenue to 52nd Street (or thereabouts). Sure, there are lots of great bar and food options, not to mention shopping galore. But more than that, it's a powerful reminder of Phoenix's transformative streak as the city morphs rather quickly from midtown to the Biltmore and into Scottsdale in slightly longer than the blink of an eye. This drive is a perfect chance not only to spend a lazy evening cruising for fun and high jinks, but to see how the city's alive, the ways in which Phoenix continues to develop and what that ultimately means for its communities and its citizens. It's not a drive so much as it's a history lesson and a novel dissection of how Phoenix will come to be for its foreseeable future. So, take it real slow and be sure to absorb as much as you possibly can.

A tribute to the Internet's favorite gorilla in the middle of nowhere? It sounds totally bananas, but we ain't pulling any monkeyshines on you. Head north on Usery Pass Road just past 92nd Street and Mesa's city limits, and you'll encounter signs proclaiming that particular stretch of roadway has been adopted "In Memory of Harambe," the beloved western lowland silverback gorilla that became world famous and inspired countless memes after being shot and killed by a Cincinnati Zoo employee in 2016. There's no mention of who adopted the road or whether it was a heartfelt tribute to the noble beast or a jokey reference to Harambe's viral status (including the infamous "Dicks Out for Harambe" meme). We asked the Maricopa County Department of Transportation, which oversees the Adopt-a-Road program in unincorporated areas of the Valley, for more info, but they're mum on the subject. Regardless, whoever's adopted the road has held up their end of the bargain and kept it litter-free. Whether or not they had their junk out while doing so remains as much of a mystery as their identity.

Like a rock band that embarks on multiple farewell tours (we're looking at you, KISS), Metrocenter is now the recipient of two goodbye-themed Best of Phoenix awards. Back in 2020, we gave it Best Sendoff for the epic car cruise around its perimeter, a two-night event that drew thousands of nostalgic boomers and Gen-Xers who spent their adolescence bumming around the west Valley mall. After that, not much happened. But once news of its imminent demolition began to spread this past spring, one final (really final) event was planned to send Metrocenter into the Great Retail Beyond. In May, thousands attended "Metrocenter: A Fond Farewell," an event hosted by the city of Phoenix and the mall's owners. The free celebration included music, food and drink, kids' activities, a car show, photobooths, memory walls and a 1980s costume contest. It was a fitting tribute to a place that meant so much to generations of Phoenicians.

When the sun sets in Phoenix, the city is lit by the glow of neon. And our favorite glowing beacon is the so-called Diving Lady, who plunges nightly at the Starlite Motel in Mesa. Created in 1960, she was destroyed in an epic storm in 2010. The Mesa Preservation Foundation led the charge (and the fundraising effort) to restore the Diving Lady not just to its pre-storm state but to her original midcentury glory. After more than two years and $120,000, the restoration was complete, and the Diving Lady was back to beckoning motel customers. In a town awash with neon, she's certainly the queen bee.

Walking around downtown Phoenix at night, you can find plenty of art to take in, from murals to sculptures. But there's only one gigantic cloud-shaped structure suspended over the city. Since 2009, "Her Secret Is Patience" by Janet Echelman has loomed benevolently over the area now called Civic Space Park. It's constructed from steel, polyester twine netting and colored lights, giving the impression of a glowing cloud formation or perhaps a stationary tornado. It's an impressive enough piece during the day, when the bones of the project are visible, but it's best seen at night, when it lights up the city.

At rush hour, Grand Avenue is often clogged with traffic, from its eastern end in downtown Phoenix all the way out into the far stretches of the city in the West Valley. But there's hardly anything more satisfying than driving this unending boulevard at night, once you're the only car on the road. A trip down Grand Avenue is a trip through all the strange worlds of Phoenix: through the city's sprawling warehouse districts, past towers of rusting shipping containers and austere churches, strip clubs and fading murals. Whimsical art and fairy lights strung from trees mark the bustling Grand Avenue arts hub closer to downtown. On an overpass, for a moment, the Phoenix skyline is visible.

There's no one defining area of Phoenix — all these nooks and crannies we call neighborhoods represent the city's robust multifacetedness. That said, Roosevelt Row (that's Roosevelt Street effectively from Seventh Avenue to Seventh Street) feels like the best-case example for a singular Phoenix experience. That breezy 1-mile jaunt will take you past a slew of art galleries, celebrated venues like The Nash, heaps of bars and restaurants (like Carly's Bistro) and gorgeous historic homes dating back to the 1920s (or earlier). Roosevelt Row is perhaps the best example of what happens when Phoenix's arts, food and nightlife scenes are perfectly united in the most accessible ways possible. Plus, this stroll, paired with the right winter or spring weather, is the best way to experience Phoenix's unique culture and heritage in a way that aligns with whatever your game plan may be that evening. It's a means to feel connected in a very real way and to see the heart of Phoenix that you couldn't get in a full drive across the city proper. So grab your best shoes — be they sneakers or high heels — and get to walking.