Megalopolitan Life

By now, you've likely visited the Phoenix Art Museum, the Heard Museum and the Musical Instrument Museum a dozen times over. But there's one hallowed hall of learning to add to your list: the Phoenix Trolley Museum. Incorporated in 1977, the PTM is a shrine to the streetcars that defined transportation across Phoenix in the early to mid-20th century. Whether you want to walk around an old car or just peep some uniforms, tickets and other classic memorabilia, the museum holds a cornucopia of artifacts dating to the first mule-drawn cars circa 1887. These cars built the foundation of Phoenix, and everything about the way our city is laid out — good, bad and otherwise — is connected to this mode of transportation.

When Phoenix makes international news, it's usually for something we're not too proud of, like our record-breaking summer temperature or Joe Arpaio. But on Aug. 25, a hot new bombshell entered the villa. The haboob, a massive dust storm, rolled into the Valley from the south in the late afternoon. From the moment it hit town, social media feeds were flooded with photos and videos of the dramatic, ominous weather phenomenon. ("Anyone remember 'The Mummy' when the sand wall tried to eat Brendan Fraser?" one person wrote.) Within the next couple of days, our little dust-up got coverage from People magazine, the New York Times, National Geographic, the BBC and probably every Instagram account in Arizona.

More than 300,000 cars a day pass through the 11-mile stretch of Interstate 10 known as the Broadway Curve, which begins near Sky Harbor International Airport and continues south through Tempe. And we've probably screamed at the driver of every single one of them. For four years, construction crews worked on adding lanes and reconfiguring interchanges on the Valley's busiest stretch of highway, causing untold short-term pain to the many residents who rely upon it to get to and from work. For years, it was like driving in a video game that hadn't fully rendered: Lanes would suddenly diverge from each other, pass separately under an overpass like two branches of a stream, and then reconvene on the other side. But ever since the construction wrapped at the end of May, traffic just zooms along. It's nothing but glorious, expanded lanes as far as the eye can see. Enjoy the commute while you can; by 2040, the Arizona Department of Transportation anticipates an additional 75,000 drivers contributing to daily traffic on the Broadway Curve. Before too long, the Curve will suck again.

Something mighty big is peeking out of the soil out at Duncan Family Farms in Goodyear, and it ain't this season's crop of veggies. The 20-foot-tall cutout mural of a giant overall-clad toddler playing with a tractor is perched on the edge of the 2,500-acre organic farm. Is it something in the water? Nope, just the farm's iconic and billboard-like spectacle. It's the Valley's largest and quirkiest roadside oddity, and it has been catching the attention of drivers for decades. Known as "Big Baby," its first version was created "just for fun" in 1998 by California artist John Cerney to serve as a landmark for the farm. Commissioned by owners Kathleen and Arnott Duncan, the bucolic behemoth depicted the granddaughter of a farm employee and stood tall north of Interstate 10 by the Cotton Lane exit until freeway expansion caused its removal 15 years later. Fast forward to 2020, and a new version of the mural is turning heads along the Loop 303 near Camelback Road. You've come a long way, baby.

It's hard to miss Tovrea Castle. Cruise along the Loop 202 freeway between 52nd Street and Priest Drive and get an eyeful of the distinctive wedding cake-shaped building perched majestically atop a hill, surrounded by rings of cactuses. Between its Art Deco influences and prominent location, the gorgeous building grabs your attention. But that's just one of the reasons why it's the Valley's most notable landmark. Here's another: the aura of mystery surrounding the castle, which was built in 1929 by Italian immigrant and entrepreneur Alessio Carraro as the potential centerpiece for a resort. That particular dream fizzled, but the magic stuck. Arizona cattle baron Edward Tovrea bought it in the 1930s, and following his death, his widow, Della, lived there for years. Tovrea Castle remained closed to the public and fell into ruin until the city of Phoenix acquired it in 1993 and restored it two decades later. Want a closer look or a peek inside? The Tovrea Castle Society holds a twice-yearly lottery for limited public tours in the spring and fall. It's free to enter, and tickets are $22 per person if you're selected. The next lottery is scheduled in October.

Is there another? We don't know. But we do love this one, hidden in plain sight just a few blocks west of Monte Vista Elementary. If you're driving west on Osborn Road and really looking for it, you'll see a small sign on the right with a peacock silhouette. And if you're lucky, you'll find yourself stopping as several peafowl saunter from one side of the street to the other. It's not clear who, if anyone, owns the birds — having peacocks as pets violates Phoenix city code, it's worth noting — and the birds very well could be annoying to live near. But if you're cruising by this residential stretch of Osborn Road, you'll never be so happy to cede the right of way to a jaywalker.

Diogenes — a fourth-century B.C.E. Greek philosopher and social critic known for wandering Athens in daylight with a lit lantern saying he was "looking for an honest man" — had nothing on Jack Maverik at the Jan. 23 Tempe City Council meeting. During the meeting's public comment session, more than 30 people rebuked the council earnestly, passionately or some combination thereof on a variety of issues. But Maverik takes the prize for the funniest use of elected officials' time and the most ludicrously scathing diatribe in recent memory — all while dressed as Fred Flintstone. "Hi guys, my name's Jack," Maverik began comically, before adding, "I'm from the cave in Tempe." He was referring to a secret and illegal council meeting in which several members were recorded laughing at the "CAVE people," which stands for "citizens against virtually everything." For the next three minutes, Maverik proceeded to tear the council to shreds for their double-faced treatment of Tempe residents publicly and behind closed doors. And this wasn't just a kitschy joke — this was truly ferocious, commanding rhetoric spoken from a place of deep truth. To make it even funnier, after Maverik finished the speech, Mayor Corey Woods responded like an animatronic character with a hilariously chipper "Thank you!"

Irony is dead, and MAGA state Sen. Wendy Rogers earned a medal for killing it. Or so she may claim. When she wasn't desperately trying to get Donald Trump to notice her, Rogers placed herself in the middle of one of Arizona's spiciest Republican vs. Republican feuds. Army veteran and GOP State Rep. Walt Blackman ran a bill to criminalize the exaggeration or fabrication of military service, otherwise known as stolen valor. Rogers, an Air Force vet, refused to give the bill a hearing in her committee. It appeared to be a naked favor to her MAGA buddy Steve Slaton, a Trump superfan who ran against Blackman in the GOP primary last year and who — what a coincidence! — was caught lying about serving in Vietnam. Blackman managed to circumvent Rogers and pass the bill into law, only for Rogers to claim credit for pushing it over the finish line. Hmm, taking credit for something you didn't do — what's that called again?

In the aftermath of Donald Trump's election victory last year, Democrats have struggled to get their shit together. Congressional Dems — including some from Arizona — have crossed the aisle to confirm Trump's horrible Cabinet picks and even rubber-stamped some of Trump's preferred legislation. To the extent Trump's agenda has been slowed, state attorneys general such as Kris Mayes are to thank. She and a collective of other Democrat AGs have rattled off lawsuit after lawsuit against the Trump administration, fighting back against its attempts to rip up birthright citizenship, claw back money appropriated by Congress and expose Americans' personal information to Elon Musk and his DOGE minions. Mayes is now party to a whopping 25 suits against Trump and his cronies, some of which have been more successful than others. With a Republican-dominated Supreme Court, the ultimate outlook is less than rosy, but Mayes' lawsuit onslaught is having one sure effect: Rather than imposing his will by fiat, Trump is having to fight a painstaking, slow court battle to put his agenda into action.

These are tough times if you're into democracy and inclusiveness and not authoritarianism and racism. With Trump back in power and sycophants enabling his every whim, there aren't many viable ways to resist his power grabs. (But give Arizona Attorney General Kris Mayes credit for trying.) What we can do is gather in one place and yell that we're mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. Such mass catharsis events have been organized by a loose confederation of grassroots groups under the banner of the 50501 movement, which has put on large-scale protests across the country. Every few weeks, throngs of people have gathered around the Valley and around the country to broadcast their displeasure with what Trump and his henchmen are doing. The turnout has been impressive — especially on Flag Day, which happened to coincide with Trump's widdle-bitty birthday party. Who knows if the collective display of resistance has slowed Trump down, but it's offered a soothing mental effect. Every time there's a big protest, we can all remind ourselves that while the country may be crazy, we're not.

Name one super-Trumpy candidate who has won a statewide election in Arizona since 2016 — besides Donald Trump himself. It didn't work for Kari Lake or Abe Hamadeh, despite their election-denying bullshit to the contrary. It didn't work for Blake Masters. Tacking to the right hasn't worked out in Arizona, where registered Independents outnumber Republicans or Democrats. That makes Karrin Taylor Robson's gubernatorial candidacy all the more curious. Once considered a business-oriented, moderate Republican, the wealthy Taylor Robson has attempted to reinvent herself as Trump's biggest sycophant in the Grand Canyon State. Despite Trump's ballooning unpopularity, KTR glowingly endorses every Trump utterance and decision, no matter how dumb, cruel or illegal. If it seemed like such craven subservience would work and win her the governorship, maybe it would make sense. But the Trump wing of the GOP already hates her — see the cheers far-right primary challenger Andy Biggs got at the state party convention — and her constant Trump tongue-bathing causes moderates to throw up in the back of their mouths. Trump endorsed her, but he has also endorsed Biggs, so KTR may have sold her soul for nothing at all.

After a stinging election defeat, any self-respecting political party retreats to its corner, licks its wounds and methodically plots a new course to power. But whoever said the Arizona Democratic Party was self-respecting? Instead of rising from the ashes, Arizona Dems collapsed into chaos and self-parody. After painful losses in 2024, the state party booted its old chairperson and voted in little-known Robert Branscomb II in her place. Branscomb then united the party under his ... yeah, that's not what happened. Within months of taking the job, Branscomb had publicly feuded with the state's top Democrats, spent money the party didn't have, froze out others in party leadership and wrote off any opposition to his tenure as racist backstabbing. With the governorship and other huge statewide offices up for grabs in 2026, Arizona's top Democrats ditched the state party to set up a new fundraising structure run through the Navajo County Democratic Party. Six months into his tenure, state Democrats voted Branscomb out of power. Will normalcy finally return for the Democratic Party? We dunno, does the Pope shit in the woods?

Pop quiz, hotshot. You're Abe Hamadeh, the son of Middle Eastern immigrants, an American success story who rose to become a first-term Congressman. Your MAGA buddies are pushing a scheme to ignore the guarantees of the 14th Amendment and rip birthright citizenship away from the children born to immigrant parents. "Huh," you think, "MY parents were undocumented when I was born. I have birthright citizenship." What do you do? Well, if you're Hamadeh, you keep your trap shut, opening it only to question election outcomes and cheerlead the very party that would love to erase you from the country. That voice in your head is your conscience, Abe, or maybe one of your remaining brain cells. Listen to it once in a while.

It's hard to have much sympathy for Scottsdale, a hoity-toity town that notoriously hates apartments and the unwashed masses who rent them. But in opposing the political machinations to green-light a new headquarters for the Taser-making corporation Axon — a campus that will feature loads of new apartments — even Scottsdale and its far-right city council have a point. The Axon development was approved last year, before the new council took office. The plan sparked a movement to nix the project via ballot measure, a right guaranteed in the Arizona Constitution. However, state lawmakers happily tossed that aside when Axon threatened to leave the state if its new headquarters faced any roadblocks. A bill passed by a bipartisan group of legislators and signed by Gov. Katie Hobbs ensured the Axon development will move forward. How? By depriving Scottsdale voters of the ability to put the matter on the ballot. Every Scottsdale lawmaker, many of them very right-wing, voted against it. Even they can be spot-on once in a while.

Any half-serious candidate running for public office knows to do a quick personal inventory. Past arrests? Those will come up. Off-color tweets? Prepare to hear about them again. Did you once brag on a podcast about not voting for women because women shouldn't be seeking public office, and now you're a woman seeking public office? Yeah, that boomerang is headed back your way. If you answered yes to the last one, condolences: You must be Mylie Biggs, the 25-year-old daughter of far-right congressman and gubernatorial candidate Andy Biggs. Mylie is mounting a run for the Arizona Senate in deep-red Queen Creek, though her self-sabotaging comments on an obscure podcast last year might hurt her chances. (Though, after Phoenix New Times reported the comments earlier this year, it probably didn't hurt the podcast's numbers.) Speaking without a filter, the young Biggs opined about how she'd never vote for a woman and believes that women should be in the home and not in political office. Funny views from a woman seeking political office. How does that meme go? "Well, well, well, if it isn't the consequences of my own actions ..."

After another failed political campaign against Sen. Ruben Gallego, it seemed like forever-loser candidate Kari Lake would finally get a position in the federal government that she so desperately wanted. In December, President Trump named Kari Lake as his pick for the director of Voice of America. In early interviews, she indicated big dreams and ambitions for the role. She didn't plan to turn it into "Trump TV," but it was gonna be pretty close. Then, instead of being the international newsroom's new fearless leader, Lake, at the direction of Trump and Elon Musk, DOGE'd her way out of a job. As a U.S. Agency for Global Media advisor, which oversees VOA, Lake began to demolish the same agency she was once appointed to guide. The firings sparked legal challenges and now, instead of leading an entire agency with thousands of employees, Lake is back in a familiar environment — the courtroom.

The Arizona Legislature is filled with moments of political theater. But this session, House Republicans tried to play a political game with the lives of kids with developmental disabilities. After Gov. Katie Hobbs renewed the Parents of Paid Caregivers program following the end of federal funding, its parent entity — the Division of Developmental Disabilities — was running out of money. Instead of passing a common supplemental budget request to fund the program, which pays parents to care for their severly disabled kids, Republicans chose to hold it over the governor's head as a bargaining chip to force cuts and increase oversight. Committees were packed with extra Republicans to prevent common-sense bipartisan reforms from passing, and DDD families, who were packing the hearing rooms, were losing hope as they considered a possible move out of state. But then Arizona's "Veto Queen" made her own move that forced Republicans to reconsider. She'd be vetoing every bill that came across her desk until the legislature brought her a "reasonable, negotiated" bill that would continue funding DDD without cutting essential services for families. Less than a week later, Hobbs was signing a bipartisan DDD bill into law.

It's been only nine months since Justin Heap took office as Maricopa County's Recorder, but it's felt like years. Why? He's been on a warpath of lying, stretching the truth, fabricating conversations and feuding with the people he's supposed to work with. From taking credit for firing staffers who actually resigned to publicly beefing with the Republican-led Maricopa County Board of Supervisors, his first year in office was one big flop. You'd think a county government led by one party would get things done, but with Heap in charge of the recorder's office, that's proved unlikely. He's been on a crusade of lawsuits and threats, rendering the partnership ineffective. He pushed for an illegal mail-in ballot proposal that resulted in the leader of his own party threatening him to drop it or get hit with a lawsuit. And despite not operating in a full-blown election year, the office has still struggled to complete its basic functions. Incorrect mailers that told voters they'd be marked inactive on the rolls went to 83,000 voters and sparked mass confusion and fingerpointing. For the sake of Arizona's elections, we'd like to think Heap will get his act together. But that's probably a pipe dream.

No one in the Arizona Legislature has a more atrocious vibe than state Sen. Jake Hoffman, leader of the far-right Freedom Caucus. It seems whatever dark energy that drives him wakes up every morning asking one question: How can I be a louder, more brutish and bigger asshole? In that regard, it's been quite a year of achievement for the lawmaker. In January, he was pulled over for driving 24 miles over the speed limit, but avoided getting a speeding ticket because he's a state lawmaker. That same month, he tried (unsuccessfully) to foment moral panic and pass a law that would throw public school teachers in jail if they had books with "sexually explicit" content, a deliberately vague term. Hoffman also continued to block Gov. Hobbs' nominees to run key government health-care agencies, undoubtedly weakening their service. Even though Democrats' mascot is a donkey, Hoffman's antics and aura (just stand near him and you'll understand) earn him this particular moniker.

Scottsdale's own state Rep. Alex Kolodin is always going to put on a show. Combining the rhetorical wit of a debate team kid, a penchant for being contrarian and a slender, gangly frame, he's one the Arizona House of Representatives' most entertaining and attention-grabbing creatures. When he lies, he does boldly; when he speaks for or against a bill, it's rarely a mainstream opinion. Guessing what he'll say next is like shaking a Magic 8-Ball. Most notably, he announced his run for Arizona Secretary of State by citing an endorsement from GOP state Chair Gina Swoboda — though she did not give it. His House floor antics this year have included: claiming that prosecutors "killed Preston Lord," the teen who was beaten to death by the Gilbert Goons; being the sole vote against a bill making false claims about military service a crime; and pushing to make pipe bombs and machine guns legal in Arizona and to bring back firing squads for state executions. He's also partnered with Democrats in some instances to push for criminal justice reform. For the entertainment and keeping us guessing, Kolodin is unmatched.

When the city of Tempe relentlessly prosecuted Austin Davis and his organization AZ Hugs for feeding homeless people in Tempe's parks, the situation looked dire for the many who depended on his service. But the plan backfired on the city. When Davis was banned from Tempe's parks for a year and a half, an outpouring of support from Tempe's alarmed residents resulted in a whole coalition of people coming together to help their unhoused neighbors. The strength of New Deal Meal — organized by Ron Tapscott, Dave Wells and religious leaders from around Tempe — is in its numbers. A large group of local folks now volunteer to feed unhoused people, get them clothes, find them shelter, get them off drugs and clean up the parks after the events. While the city at first tried to prosecute Tapscott, it eventually dropped the charges "in the interest of justice."

It's always sad to watch a RINO go bad. Take, for example, former Arizona Attorney General Mark Brnovich, a moderate Republican who in November 2020 had the stones to tell the world that Trump lost Arizona not because of election fraud, but because voters "split their ticket." Afterward, Brno tried to make up for his heresy. The AG's investigators spent a reported 10,000 hours hunting for election fraud, but found no vast conspiracy. Brnovich sat on the no-fraud findings and instead issued an interim report stating that "serious vulnerabilities" existed in the election system. It was thin gruel for the MAGA-ites, with Trump labeling Brno "a disappointment to me." Brnovich still did his damnedest to snuggle up to the Orange Caligula during the 2022 Republican primary for U.S. Senate, with fundraising appeals featuring a pic of Brno and Trump together. It fooled no one. Trump didn't endorse him, and Brnovich came in a distant third to creepy Peter Thiel-acolyte Blake Masters. Perhaps Papa Trump felt Brno deserved some reward for shirking his duty to the public on that investigation. Hence, Trump's recent nomination of Brno to be U.S. ambassador to Serbia. Hey, France, it ain't. But it sure beats a real job in the private sector, eh Brno?

Maricopa County Attorney Rachel Mitchell really doesn't like it when people give her shit. So when someone used a prank service to send her a plastic baggie full of alleged animal dung for Valentine's Day this year, the notoriously humorless Mitchell was not amused and decided to waste taxpayer bucks on a police investigation. The resulting Phoenix police report reads, "Rachel stated that she and her husband went to dinner last night, and when they got home, her husband told her there was a package at the door. After bringing it inside, she opened it and found the bag." The "husband" in question is apparently Mitchell's alleged paramour, Paul Stout, who once called the cops on a New Times reporter for having the temerity to phone him asking for a comment on an unrelated story. (Note: We don't know if they're actually hitched, but stranger things have happened.) Mitchell told the po-po she desired prosecution of the anonymous poop-sender, though for what is anyone's guess. C'mon, Rachel. If you're an elected official, you have to take a little crap now and then, especially when you're so darn good at dishing it out.

Before he was disbarred in 2012 for misusing his high office to go after his political enemies and anyone who got in his way, Maricopa County Attorney Andrew Thomas was a man on the rise, a conservative darling who came within a hair's breadth of becoming the Republican nominee for Arizona Attorney General in 2010. Post-disbarment, it was all downhill for Thomas' career. He ran in the GOP primary for governor in 2014, but didn't win, place or show, coming in fifth with a mere 8% of the vote. Thomas then vanished like a 21st-century Jimmy Hoffa. New Times tracked him down earlier this year, finding Thomas in Texas, where he'd become a filmmaker of sorts, shooting Christian rom-coms like his 2022 effort, "Lake Lavon," in which two star-crossed lovers discover each other, the perils of playing Twister with the opposite sex and, naturally, Jesus. In his copious free time, Thomas wrote a Substack blog in which he claimed he'd been the victim of "leftist crocodiles" back in Phoenix, where he'd supposedly taken on a corrupt establishment and been cast into the outer darkness as a result. Should we pity "Candy Andy," the man who once terrorized Maricopa County's citizens with lawfare? Nah, we're just glad he's where he can do Arizonans the least harm — in another state.

Ruben Gallego has been a U.S. Senator for less than a year and already he's flipping pork burgers and eating boiled eggs on a stick while sashaying through Iowa and fanning the flames of a possible, um, presidential run in 2028. Give us a frickin' break. Bad enough that he sold his soul to Old Scratch during the 2024 campaign by downplaying a federal investigation of the Phoenix Police Department in order to score the endorsement of a powerful cop union, the Phoenix Law Enforcement Association. And don't get us started on Gallego's vote in favor of the ass-backwards Laken Riley Act, passed to slake the fears (and bigotry) of the anti-immigrant crowd. "I know how to help Democrats win in really hard states," Gallego recently told Iowans. Indeed, it's called dumb luck. Which is what Gallego was handed when Republicans nominated right-wing nutjob Kari Lake to be their standard-bearer in the 2024 Senate contest. Even so, it was hardly a blowout, with Gallego besting Lake by less than 3 percentage points. President? Of the United States of America? Puh-lease. Especially not with a comb-over worse than Trump's.

Whether she's handing out water to the homeless, berating politicians on her X account or blasting Arizona Corporation Commissioners for tut-tutting the heat-related deaths of senior citizens, Stacey Champion comes on like a wrecking ball. Champion's regular gig is as a successful PR strategist and owner of her own company, Champion PR + Consulting. But Champion's passion is bird-dogging powerful corporate and government interests and exposing their ill deeds, such as Maricopa County's undercount of deaths from our deadly summers or APS' betrayal of its past commitment to "clean energy" and going "carbon-free" by 2050. In comments at an ACC meeting in August, Champion skewered commissioners' go-to excuse for sucking up to utility companies — i.e., "affordability" — telling them to "stop saying you care about residential ratepayers while you are rubber-stamping rate hikes in front of you, cramming through formula rate-making which screws customers and diminishes transparency and setting our state back more than 20 years." Talk about landing a punch. If Champion can't halt the bad behavior she sees, she'll at least expose it, call it out and rub folks' noses in it, setting an example we should all emulate.

Gov. Katie Hobbs is arguably more fortunate even than her likely rival in the 2026 general election campaign, Republican Rep. Andy Biggs. True, back in '93, Biggs won $10 million in the American Family Publishers Sweepstakes, thereby relieving him of the necessity of practicing law and allowing him to instead focus on a political career mired in paleo-conservatism, nativism, election denialism and conspiracy-mongering. Moneybags Biggs has long enjoyed the luxury of espousing extremist political positions, from being vehemently anti-abortion, anti-LBGTQ, anti-vaccine and anti-Medicaid to being slavishly pro-Trump, even to the point of backtracking on his prior commitments to a balanced budget and voting for Trump's budget-busting "One Big Beautiful Bill." He's also staked out bizarre, indefensible stances, like backing the Stop the Steal movement's drive to overthrow the 2020 election, blaming the Jan. 6 insurrection on "antifa" and taking positions at odds with the survivors of sexual abuse, such as voting against the release of the Epstein files. All but the last bit stands to play well in next year's GOP primary, giving Biggs the edge and then some over MAGA-wannabe Karrin Taylor Robson, whose conversion to Trumpism is about as authentic as an AI-authored Wikipedia post. But in a statewide general election, where moderation and common sense have an advantage, the baggage-laden Biggs is a likely loser, the claims of some recent polls notwithstanding. So as in 2022, when fate bestowed upon Hobbs an unelectable contender in the person of cuckoo-for-Cocoa-Puffs Kari Lake, so Dame Fortune is ready once more to smile on Hobbs and deliver a political nonstarter to her doorstep. The governor should really consider taking up craps. Lady's on a roll.

It's unfair to call Rodney Glassman the "Harold Stassen of Arizona politics." Unfair to Harold Stassen, that is. True, Stassen's reputation during the 20th century as a perennial losing candidate for the GOP presidential nomination could mark him as a model for Glassman, a former member of the Tucson City Council who has since run unsuccessfully for U.S. Senate, Democratic Party Chair, Arizona Corporation Commission, Maricopa County Assessor and Arizona Attorney General. But unlike Glassman — a turncoat to the state Democratic Party — Stassen was a lifelong Republican who'd actually been elected Governor of Minnesota. Stassen never switched parties, though he sometimes supported positions unpopular in GOP ranks, like being pro-civil rights and marching with Martin Luther King Jr. By contrast, Glassman's morality is as malleable as Silly Putty. Earlier this year, he announced that he'd raised $1.3 million in his bid for the Republican nod to take on Democratic Attorney General Kris Mayes, neglecting to mention that he'd loaned himself $1 million of that total. No, Rodney, one thing's for sure: Harold Stassen, you ain't.

When it comes to tossing away tax money to billionaires, Democrats and Republicans alike bend like a handful of warm Twizzlers. Arizona's Democratic Gov. Katie Hobbs recently signed off on a deal, passed by the state legislature, to fork over $500 million in sales tax collected over the next three decades for renovations to Chase Field, where the Arizona Diamondbacks play ball. All it took was for the Diamondbacks' owner — billionaire and skinflint extraordinaire Ken Kendrick — to suggest that there might be "opportunities available" in other cities for the team. Similarly, Phoenix Mayor Kate Gallego — also an alleged Democrat — played the part of the Paramount corporation to Kendrick's Trump, giving her thumbs-up to paying a half-billion dollars in virtual ransom to eliminate the threat of a relocation. Here's a pro tip for these pusillanimous pols: Kendrick and the Diamondbacks were going nowhere fast. But Kendrick played our elected representatives like a plastic ocarina, knowing it's always easy for politicians to relinquish what's not theirs to begin with: the taxes Phoenicians dish out when purchasing overpriced tickets, hot dogs and tall boys at the ballpark we nominally own.

With a voice that mimics the sound of broken glass being scraped across concrete, KTAR radio host Mike Broomhead is living proof that lack of talent is no impediment to success, especially in the narrow lane of right-wing talk radio. Granted, Shovelhead, whoops, Broomhead's great claim to fame is that he used to sub for wingnut conspiracy titan Glenn Beck. Remember him? (Don't worry, it's been a while.) Anyway, Broom-pile is a reliable Republican Party lap dog whose lips seem permanently affixed to predictably reactionary politicians and any law enforcement heinies he can find en route to his next ride-along with local cops, who can do no wrong in his book no matter whose rights they trample on. Whenever Republican Sheriff Jerry Sheridan is on Broom-lick's show, for instance, you'd think Sheridan just saved Mike's puppy from drowning in a nearby canal. Broom-putz is sure to let the softballs fly whenever a GOPer takes the mic, making one long for the days when talk radio meant challenging preconceived notions and doing something as radical as — OMG — taking calls from listeners. Now, the airwaves are jammed with annoying, one-sided authoritarian drivel like that of Broomhead.

No other single source reveals how the sausage is made better than the Arizona Agenda. It started in 2021 as a scrappy two-person labor of love built on grants, sweat and journalistic zeal devoted to helping average folks digest, dissect and discuss state politics. Along the way, this independent, online five-day-a-week operation has gained steam and reader support — enough to expand into covering Tucson, water issues, education and AI. But its meat-and-potatoes is following the state legislature in a way that's savvy and sassy (believe it or not, they make state politics entertaining). If you want to know what your lawmakers are up to — or not up to, because they also report on who's "working hard and who's hardly working" — this is your guide. And although the name "agenda" indicates a certain bent, it doesn't shy away from exposing Democrat misdeeds as well as Republican. Finally, the AA deserves praise if only because of their unflagging campaign to get a monument at the state capitol honoring investigative reporter Don Bolles, a Fourth Estate hero to many who was killed by a car bomb in 1976 while covering organized crime for the Arizona Republic.

Over in Scottsdale, a political catfight worthy of the town's legions of Karens has unfolded. Onlookers have dubbed it "Parkingate." While last year the city began to approve contracts to build two new parking garages near Old Town, newly elected Mayor Lisa Borowsky came in with a plan to scrap them after David Hovey Jr. — one of her donors — showed the mayor an alternate plan for a garage. She was unsuccessful in swaying the Scottsdale City Council, as she was the only one to vote to delay awarding the contract. After an anonymous complaint about Borowsky was sent to the Maricopa County Attorney, she was furious and sued to find out who was behind the complaint, suspecting two fellow councilmembers. Councilmember Adam Kwasman — who was not named — said the letter Borowsky's lawyer sent to councilmembers "reads like Homer Simpson's father yelling at squirrels to get off his lawn." As it turns out, audio recordings of interviews with investigators show it was three council members (including Kwasman) who belong to the council's far-right wing who wanted Borowsky out — one even called her a "bitch." The bitterness and jabs make it the best soap we watched this year.

Being friends with a child sex offender may be bad luck. Using the deed of your home to bail them out of jail is bad judgment. But doing all of that while being the president of an elementary school district's governing board is a certified dumpster fire. This is the story Phoenix New Times unraveled about Jessica Bueno, the then-president of Phoenix Elementary School District No. 1's governing board. Randall Denton, the owner of Xanadu Coffee and Bueno's former business partner, was caught in a sex sting operation after an undercover officer, posing as a 14-year-old girl, messaged with Denton online and arranged a meetup for sex. When Denton arrived, he was met with a swarm of officers. Bueno bailed him out and lit her political career on fire in the process. A year later, the news broke. District parents sported "No Pedo, No Bueno" T-shirts to board meetings and called on Bueno to resign. She eventually did, but only after a fiery exchange with Secretary of State Adrian Fontes in a school board meeting.

Arizona's Odysseus of the Dive Bars, Clue Heywood, should write a guidebook detailing his peregrinations through the Grand Canyon State's ass-kickin' caverns of cheap drinks, good times and spilt Friday beers. Heywood's already composed the first draft, post by post, on X, highlighting taprooms such as Matt's Saloon in Prescott, La Cabana Saloon in Wickenburg, Tucson's Buffet Bar and the Dirty Drummer in Phoenix, to name a few. Heywood punctuates his Falstaffian escapades with the occasional digression about poltroons in power or the delights of taco truck comestibles, illustrating it all with barstool-snapped iPhone photos from his interminable nighttime crawls. The low life never had a better ambassador than this pseudonym-ized attorney, draped in a silver Coors Light jacket, his face forever obscured to hide his real identity from the State Bar of Arizona and other such repositories of ill repute.

For years, hundreds of transgender children and their families had been making life-saving trips to Phoenix Children's Hospital to receive gender-affirming care in the form of hormones and puberty blockers. But after an unenforceable and likely unconstitutional executive order by President Donald Trump, the hospital decided to abandon those patients, leaving them in a state of limbo. PCH was the largest provider of gender-affirming care for transgender youth in the Valley. That changed dramatically in late January when Trump said the administration would yank funding for any entity that supports trans kids under 19 years old. Fearful that they'd lose federal funding, PCH decided to pull the rug out from under trans kids and their families. Even after a judge temporarily blocked the order, care didn't restart, and families have grappled with new decisions about moving out of state — or even the country.

Rep. Yassami Ansari started her tenure during a turbulent time. Many Arizona politicos were unconvinced that she would be the anti-Trump firebrand that her party so desperately needed — and that her primary opponent, Raquel Terán, surely would have been. Yet Ansari quickly proved doubters wrong. From the jump, Ansari positioned herself as a leader among Arizona Democrats — and congressional Democrats at large — as a strong voice against the Trump administration amid mass deportations, funding cuts and federal firings. She traveled to El Salvador in an attempt to visit the CECOT prison. She made multiple trips to the Eloy Immigration Detention Center to meet with detainees. She's also held virtual and in-person town halls to share information with constituents affected by mass deportation efforts. Other democrats may have shied away from being the opposition, but in her first year on the job, Ansari has stepped up to the plate.

Given how completely Donald Trump has captured the Republican Party, this is a difficult category to fill. But there are still a few not-crazy GOPers out there, and Maricopa County is particularly fortunate that Galvin, who chairs the powerful but perennially overlooked county board of supervisors, is one of them. Like former county recorder Stephen Richer, Galvin has little patience for Arizona's unique breed of election denier. Indeed, with MAGA doofus Justin Heap now running the recorder's office and waging war against the Republican-dominated board of supes, Galvin has regularly clowned Heap and called out his every misstep. He has provided a refreshing dose of sanity in an increasingly insane world, as well as a bulwark against the damage an unfettered Heap would do to elections in the state's largest county. To be sure, Galvin is still a Republican — his positions on Israel's war in Gaza, Trump's attack against Iran and the need to speed up vote-counting could hardly be mistaken for liberal. He has also opportunistically railed against the ongoing independent oversight of the county's problematic sheriff's office, griping about the price tag while sidestepping the agency's languishing backlog of internal affairs cases. Then again, if he didn't hold some of those positions, he wouldn't really qualify for Best Republican, would he?

While meeting with your local state representative might not be on the average Phoenician's to-do list, if you're ever looking to spot one in the wild, The Historic Gold Spot is the place to do it. It's less than 2 miles from the Arizona State Capitol and it's not uncommon to see former state Representative Raquel Terán chowing down on a gyro at Pita Jungle or House Speaker Steve Montenegro chatting it up with a lobbyist over coffee at Lola's. Plus, the food and service options within the 100-year-old shopping center's iconic golden brick walls make it a trip worth it on its own. You can savor First and Last's incredible focaccia sandwiches or get a haircut at Salon RO5 while you stake out an appearance of your favorite, or least favorite, local pol.

If once is happenstance and twice is coincidence, three times defies any explanation other than: They really are that good. While other once-fearsome media outlets around the Valley serve up investigations as only an occasional treat — like salami for cats, except to curb abuses by government and big business — ABC15 still treats investigations like the essential public service (and attention-getter) they are. This year, for the third time since 2021, the jurors for the prestigious Peabody Awards recognized ABC15's coverage of shady, discriminatory and downright deadly policing. This year, it was for a 32-part series about the Department of Justice's findings into the Phoenix Police Department called "Policing Phoenix," led by Dave Biscobing and Melissa Blasius. The Peabodys are a storytelling award, broadly; each year they go to just 30 recipients across various categories, most of which are non-news. For a local broadcaster to win one is a bit like being struck by lightning. To win three in five years? Elite — and more than that, vital.

In an age when Phoenix's airwaves are ruled by corporate giants with multimillion-dollar budgets, it's the smaller grassroots and community-oriented broadcasters that matter more. Case in point: KDRP, the independent low-power FM station that punches well above its wattage. Since signing on the air in 2022 as Arizona's only Black-owned station (its parent company is local nonprofit Desert Soul Media), KDRP has been giving East Valley and south Phoenix listeners the most eclectic mix on local radio. Its sonic palette is anything but predictable: blues, soul and heavy doses of jazz, as well as Indigenous music, old-school reggae and other genres you won't catch anywhere else on the local dial. The station's weekly shows are just as bold. "HipRawk Nation" spins rap and electronica from across the globe, while "Earth Riot Radio" takes on climate change with punk rock tunes and comedy. KDRP's programming also gives a signal boost to BIPOC and marginalized voices through programming like "Native Talk Arizona" and Ramses Ja and Q Ward's award-winning "Civic Cipher." KRDP's signal may not be the strongest, but its impact booms across the Valley.

We know this one is going to be controversial. Lots of folks around town can't stand the seemingly inescapable series of ads from the central Phoenix law firm. And to be honest, we used to be one of them. Then we leaned into the absurdity. The characters in TopDog Law commercials can't catch a break; they're racing hellcats with their wife when someone pulls out in front of her, they're hit by a drunk driver on a rainy Saturday night, they just wanted to go to the grocery store but now they're paralyzed from the waist down. The hype man, er, commercial announcer, tells the story with increasing vocal intensity, crescendoing into the answer to all these unfortunate situations: "TAHHP DAWWG LAWW." Part slam poetry, part "Trapped in the Closet," the TopDog Law commercials are now a highly anticipated part of our daily commute.

Christina Estes draws on her more than two-decade career as a TV and radio journalist, most recently at KJZZ, to write mystery novels featuring Jolene Garcia, a persistent TV reporter. The second in the series, "The Story That Wouldn't Die," came out this past August, and like the first one — "Off the Air," released in 2024 — our fine city is spotlighted to the point that it's virtually a character. Estes name-drops locations and businesses ranging from Arcadia to Yama Sushi House, with classics like Haji-Baba, Miracle Mile Deli and Pizzeria Bianco all making cameos. As a reader, it's a thrill each time she mentions a familiar street, landmark or other location, and for those who don't recognize every spot, maybe it'll spur an exploration. The Phoenix fandom would be moot if the stories sucked, but lucky for us, Estes's creative writing talents are impressive. Her characters are well-drawn, the dialogue is snappy and the plot moves along at a page-turning clip, with the ideal number of twists and turns. We're already eager for the third one, which she's working on.

In a dingy strip mall in central Tempe you'll find Danelle Plaza, which some DIY heads have dubbed the city's "last cool place." It garnered that unofficial label thanks to the efforts of a homespun, wacky collective of artists who — led by Rob Moore, under the banner of the Danelle Project — revitalized the mostly abandoned lot and its buildings near Yucca Tap Room. Since 2016, it's been filled with weird, eccentric art and hosted exhibitions and events that have made it a cornerstone of the Valley's arts community. Notably, both masters and beginners come together on its unique playground to control the space. That environment was consciously fostered by the Danelle Project, which relinquished control of the plaza to a nonprofit called the Tempe Art and Music Coalition as the developers planned to bring major changes to the lot, including adding housing units. But as the baton is passed, Danelle's legacy of making space for all artistic visions and keeping the space community-focused will live on.

Phoenix Art Museum is a cultural institution you shouldn't sleep on. In fact, when you can, make a day of it. Its permanent collection and temporary exhibitions in many mediums — and many featuring mixed media — are multilayered. They highlight artistic talents and global perspectives, serving as windows to international cultures and subcultures. Sometimes they're magical installations like Carlos Amorales' "Black Cloud." Inspired by the migration of the monarch butterflies, the gallery is covered with a swarm of paper moths. Educational programming parallels the exhibits through lectures and films. The museum is a spot for entertainment, including live music performances and vibrant First Friday events. While it's not a designated museum for kids, beyond all the exhibitions and permanent collections that the young ones can enjoy, there are plenty of specific events for little ones.

Celebrating 40 years as a successful art gallery is a win unto itself; the art business can be fickle and not always storm-resistant. Lisa Sette has managed to survive by having an eye for fascinating work. Even making a significant move from Old Town Scottsdale to midtown Phoenix didn't have an negative impact — where she goes, art patrons follow. We have seen such artists as Mark Klett, Angela Ellsworth and Mayme Kratz evolve. Sette doesn't rest on any laurels, though; new work is presented regularly, such as Benjamin Timpson's, which emphasizes the intense artistic processes the gallerist and her team have a knack for finding and showcasing. Timpson's artwork, for example, is strategically crafted from a most delicate source — butterfly wings.

Once a year, on the first weekend of October, Legend City Studios in downtown Phoenix opens its sleek doors to a slew of attendees for the annual exhibition organized by artist Randy Slack. The event is always brimming with people, and it's a whole vibe. The show usually includes artists who have been previous participants, many of whom have had their original creations hoisted upon the walls for viewing since the very beginning, 24 years ago. Slack keeps his eyes open for newbies to the show and works in art that catches his eye. His own large-scale paintings are always in the mix, in the same spot, adding more of that element of familiarity. Like anything labeled as "chaos," the surprise can come from the guest list as much as each year's artwork, as people are jazzed to see all those artists together in one space. The artists are stoked about that, too — congregating at this arty party.

This collective for area artists turns 25 this year and is continuously a must-see stop on the monthly First Friday artwalk. A Roosevelt Row stalwart, it's a beacon at the monstrous monthly event as a destination for quality work. The gallery has been standing longer than many of the new beer gardens, and the number of artists who've exhibited work on the venue's walls is well into the hundreds. With the array of creatives making this a popular spot, the mediums are as diverse as the artists themselves. Photography involving multiple processes, textile work, paintings and intricate drawings barely scratch the surface of what's been installed. For us old-timers who still go to First Friday for the art, Eye Lounge is a stop we never skip.

First Friday who? The Scottsdale Art Walk celebrated its 50th anniversary this year — that's five decades of heading to Old Town once a week on Thursdays to pop in and out of the area's many galleries. While each stop has its own character, there's one we always make a point to see. The work at Anticus is eclectic and leans heavily into pop culture; if you're looking for a Looney Tunes painting by the Chuck Jones or a Dr. Seuss drawing, you're in luck. But there's far more to see at the store, including jewelry, books, stickers, children's items and more. The gallery hosts occasional artist events, too. The best part is that you don't actually have to wait until Thursday to visit; Anticus is open seven days a week.

The word "majestic" gets tossed around a lot these days. We don't doubt that one cookie was great or that the laser light show you saw was spectacular, but we'll bet a penny they weren't majestic. That word should be reserved for things like "Resilient Light," the sculpture by Isaac Caruso. The 20-by-20-foot rising phoenix (bird) sculpture literally weighs a ton, and is lit internally by LED lights, so when the skies are dark, it's an unforgettable beacon that links north and south Phoenix. It's no slouch by day, though. Its fiberglass body also catches the eye in the daylight, creating colors that draw you in. The project, commissioned by Valley Metro, took seven years to complete and was worth the wait. The bird, its feathers rising upward and its fiery palette, is ever-symbolic of finding personal strength in a naturally challenging environment.

It feels as if the Heard Museum has been around nearly as long as some of the splendid Indigenous artifacts it currently houses. That's likely because since the museum opened way back in 1929, it's been an essential link to the art, culture and worldviews of Native peoples across the state, the country and the world. Even as exhibits come and go, you can rely on the Heard for having both new and familiar objects to remind you of its place as a storyteller and living journal for the region. Whether you last visited on a sixth-grade field trip or you come back for free activities every First Friday, remember that the Heard is always there, ready to welcome you back for a visit.

Did you know the world's first skate park was in Tempe? Tempe History Museum's current exhibition, "Dry Surf: Local Skateboarding History," is a colorful and fascinating look at the role the sport played in the culture of the Valley in earlier decades. Local skateboarders, led by AZPX Skateboards' man about town, Rob Locker, have loaned the museum some of the coolest skateboarding equipment, photos and assorted artifacts we've ever seen. Thanks to Locker and Senior Curator of Collections Josh Roffler, "Dry Surf" oozes retro cool and may inspire even the most sedentary museum-goers into strapping on some pads and dropping into the nearest empty pool. On display through January 2026, there isn't a finer collection of skateboarding ephemera under one roof in the world right now.

The Art-o-mat project takes that mainstay of modern living, the vending machine, and turns it into something really cool: a way to acquire a small piece of art. Art-o-mats take defunct vending machines and stock them with original creations. You can find them across the world from Australia to Alaska, and in the Valley, we're lucky enough to have two: one at FOUND:RE Phoenix hotel downtown, and one in the East Valley at Chandler Center for the Arts. Put in $5 cash and make your selection; maybe it's polymer clay earrings or a small painting. It's a fun, novel way to be a patron of the arts, and for only a fiver, you can afford to check back often to see what new treasures may be there for the vending.

This downtown landmark is a must-see for any Phoenix resident or visitor. Going far past the traditional library feel, the five-story building's top floor, or Great Reading Room, provides magnificent views of the cityscape. The expansive area, which is one full acre, provides residents with plenty of space to enjoy the views while browsing the nonfiction section or reading at the rows of desks. Visitors can also explore Burton Barr's impressive fiction, DVD and CD collections in both English and Spanish. Resources are plentiful throughout the building, as entrepreneurs can check out StartUpPHX, historians can explore the library's Arizona Room or Rare Book Room and prospective college students can prepare in the College Depot — all for free. Plus, don't forget to grab a Culture Pass on your way out for free admission to one of Arizona's other notable arts and cultural institutions.

Whenever the news from Broadway suggests there's a new hit musical, you can be sure: It'll come to ASU Gammage in a couple of years. The Tempe venue is the only place to see blockbusters like "Hamilton" and "The Book of Mormon," and its upcoming season includes hot shows from the last few years such as "Suffs," "& Juliet" and "Shucked." Though the sound system could use some updating, Gammage has many charms: the Frank Lloyd Wright architecture, the views of Tempe from the upper-level exits and the fact that they don't charge an arm and a leg for concessions. When we crave a night at the theater, Gammage is our go-to.

If you want to hit the cinema in style, it's no surprise that Scottsdale Fashion Square is the place to be. The mall's Harkins Camelview 14 is the most luxurious place to catch a movie in the Valley thanks to soothingly comfortable reclining seats, tons of leg room, clean facilities and a full bar with food and cocktails. The theater was constructed in 2015 after a shuffling that closed Harkins Fashion Square 7 inside the mall and the iconic Camelview 5 next door. The result is the best of both worlds, an experience that offers blockbusters and art films in an elegant atmosphere. The theater's patio is a great place to hang out before or after your movie, and Harkins even hosts screenings out there during cooler months. Let's all go to the movies, shall we?

Pollack Tempe Cinemas is a special place for one primary reason — it's cheap in a good way. It's the only place in the Valley where you can see a movie for just $3.50. (The concessions are reasonably priced, too.) The south Tempe establishment typically shows films that have just left first-run theaters, which is why it can offer discounted pricing. It doesn't have the fancy chairs and full bars of other, higher-end movie houses. But the place is full of character due to its wildly eclectic and eccentric film-based decor. And during the lead-up to the winter holidays, the theater and its plaza are decked out in Christmas lights, lending it a warm glow. If you want to see a movie and can wait a little longer than other film fans to write your review, Pollack is the move.

Ghost Poetry Show is a slam-style show held once or twice a month at the Rebel Lounge where well-established and up-and-rising talent duke it out, linguistically speaking. The 15-person literary battle is a spectacular experience as is, but beyond the limelight is the unpolished event that gives the writers their fuel. Ghost Poetry's writing workshop is hosted at Changing Hands Bookstore's Phoenix location, and what began as a humble gathering at host Cylie Naylor's business, North and Co., is now a flourishing community of writers who take up most of the bookstore's event space. Writers put their own prompts into a hat that are then pulled out and read aloud before a seven-minute timer is started. This writing workshop encourages new voices to share for the first time, while creating a space for more established Phoenix poets to share their work.

Call it the ultimate glow up. When Mesa flipped the switch on the Neon Garden outside of community event space The Post in May, the city's downtown got a whole lot brighter. The new open-air display isn't only eye candy — it's also a comeback story. Five vintage signs from historic Main Street businesses now glow with new life, lighting the garden with nostalgic charm. Each was restored by the Mesa Preservation Foundation and offers a glimpse into the city's neon-lit midcentury past. There's a towering, bloom-covered sign from Watson's Flowers, removed in 2014 after decades of wear and tear. Nearby, a sleek porcelain enamel Dairy Queen sign is adorned with a soft-serve cone, while a kitschy display from Bill Johnson's Big Apple includes a bull's head, rustic lettering and the defunct restaurant's famous slogan of "Let's Eat." Another highlight: a 15-foot-tall replica of Mesa's famed Diving Lady from the Starlite Motel, the last animated neon sign in Arizona. Created by local neon artist Larry Graham, who helped restore the original after it was damaged by a microburst in 2010, it's a glowing tribute to a beloved piece of Valley history.

Wallace and Ladmo loom large in Valley lore. From 1954 to 1989, the iconic duo's eponymous children's show on KPHO Channel 5 entertained generations of locals with zany skits, offbeat characters and absurdist humor. Then there were the coveted Ladmo Bags — paper sacks crammed with candy, toys and other treats — that were given away on the show and at live appearances around town. Bill "Wallace" Thompson and Ladimir "Ladmo" Kwiatkowski became beloved Valley legends. Their legacy lives on through tributes around town: At the Phoenix Zoo, bronze statues of Wallace, Ladmo and Gerald (the show's bratty villain played by local TV icon Pat McMahon) sit together on a bench. A vibrant mural of the trio also brightens the exterior of First Studio, KPHO's original home in downtown Phoenix. This year brought yet another honor: In March, the Phoenix City Council voted unanimously to rename the intersection of First Avenue and McKinley Street near First Studio as "Wallace and Ladmo Way." The unveiling ceremony in April was attended by family, friends and former cast and crew. Naturally, Ladmo Bags were handed out. Because Wallace and Ladmo wouldn't have it any other way.

In a place as hot as the Valley, thinking creatively about how to stay cool can save lives. The ¡Sombra! project fused public art with outdoor shading in nine parks around Phoenix. Artists created temporary structures that integrated textiles — something not often seen in large outdoor installations. Those craftspeople used everything from grandma quilts to Chinese chorizo as inspiration for their massive, engaging works. Each installation soared overhead and cast shadows that were cooler than the unshaded areas around them by double digits. Though the exhibition of these beautiful, functional pieces just ended, it's the kind of outside-the-box thinking we need more of as Phoenix works to keep its residents cool.

If you're looking for a sober, creative and inclusive event space in the Valley, you'll want to follow thems. on Instagram. Scroll through their profile and you'll stumble upon an array of invites, from an upcoming leather workshop led by a queer artist to a colorful flyer promoting an all-queer vendor market. The LGBTQ+-focused group hosts monthly events and workshops for the community. From queer photography exhibits to drawing workshops, attendees can mingle with likeminded individuals while focusing on art. The organization's biggest event is Fruity Poetry Night, in which hundreds of guests gather at a changing location and pour their hearts out, open-mic style. Trying to stay away from booze these days? No problem — the events thems. hosts don't include alcohol.

Would you like a Mexican candy-flavored latte with your local art exhibit viewing while you delight in an experimental club-folk performance? Us too. That's where Futuro comes in. The downtown Phoenix coffee shop first popped up in 2016 as an ode to owner Jorge Ignacio Torres' Mexican ancestry. A hair salon can be accessed through clear doors on either side of the coffee section, and on some nights, it turns into a foggy, dream-like music venue where intimate, alternative performances occupy the stage. Those who walk past the minimalist text that clings to the plain white walls on the outside of the establishment could miss just how cool the space is inside. Walk inside to order a specialty drink like their cafe de olla latte and delight in thoughtfully curated artwork by local creatives while you wait for your libation (and you might wait a minute; Futuro prides itself on a slow, meticulous coffee-making process). Futuro celebrates artists and musicians, all intentionally vetted to mesh beautifully with each other and the shop's anticolonial flavors, sounds and creations.

Erudite guests from the coasts or other major cities like to gloat about their cultural offerings. Take them to the MIM, but be sure to allot enough time: This expansive monument to music requires more than a quick two-hour cruise-through. The upstairs global galleries, arranged geographically, display more than 7,500 instruments from 200 nations and territories, from African drums to Scottish bagpipes to Native American flutes. You don't just stare at static objects: As you approach, music fills your headphones. Videos show many of them being played. Downstairs, you'll find a glorious pipe organ and a guitar collection, a gallery with fascinating rotating exhibits and a popular and ever-changing display of works by modern musical icons. You might see Dick Dale's guitar, stage outfits from Johnny Cash and Taylor Swift, Prince's purple piano or the handwritten lyrics for Roy Orbison's "Pretty Woman," among other thrilling pieces of musical history. Also, the museum hosts a robust calendar of live music and boasts an excellent restaurant and world-class gift shop.

Looking for a place that encourages peace and quiet? You don't need to travel far. Phoenix's Japanese Friendship Garden transports you to a different vibe. In this mini oasis, you can sit near a koi pond and meditate, or if you prefer a walking meditation, wander around the park, cross the bridge and pay attention. In one corner, you may spot a tiny waterfall and in another, lush greenery. This is a place where you can escape city noise and try to find your inner peace. There are several garden events held throughout the year, and if you need some momentum to get some quiet back into your life, try the tai chi classes and tea tastings.

Trying to have fun on a budget? Let us introduce you to Culture Pass. The program is run by local arts nonprofit Act One, and it offers anyone with a library card the chance to check out a pass to visit notable museums and attractions across the state. Show up at a library, find the Culture Pass stand, take a card for the available destination you want to visit and take it to the front desk to get a ticket receipt from library staff. Local institutions that participate in the program include the Heard Museum, Phoenix Art Museum, Desert Botanical Garden and the Superstition Mountain Museum. Since 2013, Act One has offered more than 3 million passes to Arizona families.

At Desert Ridge Improv, we come for the comedy, stay for the fries and revel in the easy, abundant parking. Nestled in Desert Ridge Marketplace, this comedy club is the place to be to see your favorite headliner; notable upcoming events include appearances by social media star Pinky Patel, plus "SNL" alums Tim Meadows and Jon Lovitz. Every seat in the house feels like you're front and center, and aside from the fries, make sure to grab one of their specialty drinks, uniquely themed to each comic that graces their stage. Bonus: Copper Blues is right next door to keep the good times going with live music after your show.

As you pull up to the Global Ambassador, you spot the fancy cars — Bentleys, Porsches, Maseratis — and you know the people-watching will be intense. You can grab a drink at the Lobby Bar — an espresso martini, spicy margarita or an old-fashioned — and get ready for the show. You'll see women sporting their best Carrie Bradshaw Louboutin shoes, Chanel purses and whatever brand name that is in vogue in the season. There's plenty of Botox, filler and other enhancements to go around, too. The guys are decked out in their Sunday finest, except we're pretty sure no one's headed to church. The vibe continues upstairs at the signature restaurant, Thea. If you get tired of people-watching, you can always catch the panoramic view of Camelback Mountain.

This annual event is often called "the gathering of the nerds." And yes, that's what it is, in the most glorious ways possible. In addition to the visual displays and panels featuring movie and TV stars, the Phoenix Convention Center gets packed to the gills with dedicated fans in full cosplay showing mad amounts of love for their respective fictional favorites. No matter where you are, there's someone interesting to catch your eye. You might see 100 Darth Vaders, but those costume interpretations can range from "so professional that no expense was spared" to "made at home with whatever I could find" — and both are awesome. Even taking the escalator is fun; we keep our head on a swivel as we glide by to see who we pass in either direction. It could be a group of friends dressed as Disney characters, live-action members of the "Bob's Burgers" family or even a pet pooch donning "Star Wars" attire.

Every April, a horde of brightly-dressed visitors takes over Hotel Valley Ho in Scottsdale for a weekend of cocktails, music and tropical vibes. They're not bachelorettes (thank goodness); they're the conventioneers of Arizona Tiki Oasis, an absolutely delightful event dedicated to the tiki aesthetic, midcentury modern style, cocktail culture and other fabulous things. An offshoot of the long-running sister event in San Diego, AZTO offers attendees a packed schedule that includes tours of the Valley Ho; lectures on the architecture of midcentury bowling alleys and the history of the swizzle stick; cocktail tastings and caftan parades; and concerts and rooftop soirees. Don't feel like shelling out for a ticket? The event's marketplace, held on the Valley Ho lawn, is always free to check out and is packed with eye-popping tiki art, tropical attire and much more.

Local geeks have it good these days. More than 30 nerd-friendly conventions, each catering to a wide variety of fandoms, take place in the Valley every year. One of the most popular is Game On Expo, a three-day takeover of the Phoenix Convention Center every spring that's packed with the largest array of gaming experiences, joystick-powered and otherwise, of any local con. There's modern and retro consoles, tabletop and board games, pinball machines and arcade classics, esports showdowns and throwback tournaments. Since debuting in 2015 in Mesa, Game On Expo has become the Valley's fastest-growing geek event. This year was its biggest edition yet and included a packed outdoor concert by TikTok-famous electronic rockers The Living Tombstone and the first-ever con appearance by pro skateboarding legend Tony Hawk. As the Birdman himself might say, go big or go home.

Anyone can suit up and hit up events like Phoenix Fan Fusion these days. For many geeks, it's about attention, clout or personal glory. But local cosplayer Andre Washington, who goes by Ronin Kasai, has bigger goals: honing his artistic skills and bonding with his kids and girlfriend through costuming. By day, Washington is a mild-mannered construction worker. Off the clock, he's crafting jaw-dropping costumes. An epic Hawkman suit with massive, hand-feathered wings. A sinister Sith version of Starkiller from the 2008 game "Star Wars: The Force Unleashed." And a playful homage to Sho'nuff from the cult classic "The Last Dragon." Washington's been in the cosplay game since 2023, but he's entirely self-taught and has picked up crocheting, painting and other talents building costumes for himself and his kids. "It's like my day job, where I have to take nothing and make it into something," he says. The results speak for themselves: stunning work from a quick study whose artistry far outpaces his journeyman status. While Washington hasn't entered many contests yet, he's already earned praise from fellow cosplayers and even celebrities. Case in point: Actor Sam Witwer, the voice of Starkiller, told Washington his costume was "awesome" at this year's Game On Expo. High praise indeed.

For most of us, Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport is our only local air travel hub. But don't forget that the Valley is home to another essential outpost: the Phoenix-Goodyear Airport. Located just south of Interstate 10, the airport serves as a reliever for the city — basically, it's an overflow spot for the endless stream of travel coming in and out of the state. (Per its own metrics, Sky Harbor served 52 million passengers in 2024 alone.) Plus, countless domestic and international airlines rely on Phoenix-Goodyear as a maintenance/repair center, making that little strip a worldwide center for activity. It's just nice to know that when it's time to leave (and then come back, right?), you've got real options.

You may have heard that history in Phoenix is alive and well. As it turns out, it's also very much dead and buried. If you want in on the juicy history of Phoenix's various supernatural occurrences, there's guided tours from the folks at Phoenix Ghosts. Whether you're seeking out the festive Phoenix phantoms, embarking on a haunted pub crawl or braving the "Phoenix Ultimate Dead of Night" tour, you can experience a side of Phoenix that isn't just cactuses and street tacos. You don't have to believe in ghosts to take the tours; rather, they're a neat way to see how much certain spiritual practices informed our culture. Ironically, it's a way to see the city come alive like never before, and to indulge things weird or dark that are vital to life around here.

There's a reason State Route 101 looks like an upside-down U — because it's all about you, Valley residents, as the Loop connects massive parts of Tolleson, Peoria, Tempe and Chandler. Its massive span is integral to getting around the northern half of the Valley, and doing so in a timely manner (if you're willing to engage in a little defensive driving, of course). But Loop 101 is more than just an efficient means of travel; it's a snapshot of Phoenix's outer edge. It offers a look into those places that may not get as much celebration as, say, downtown Phoenix or Tempe, but that are nonetheless vital to this region's everyday hustle. Traveling this beltway is a history/economics/civics lesson via road trip.

If you feel a sense of wonder atop the Estrella Star Tower in Goodyear, that's by design. Local astronomer Steven Kates created the spiral-shaped landmark, which resembles a literal stairway to the heavens, as a place to reflect on the cosmos and the sacred land beneath your feet. By day, you'll get sweeping views of the Estrella Mountains from the 50-foot-tall tower. Stick around for the equally epic sight of sunset and the first stars of nightfall. Just don't overstay your welcome. This celestial lookout, tucked at the entrance of an upscale West Valley community, shuts down promptly at 8:15 p.m. In other words, don't dawdle.

Carbon-based lifeforms of metro Phoenix, beware: The robots are here and they're multiplying. Since 2019, they've increasingly crept into Valley life. Autonomous janitors at QuikTrip stores mop up spills. Amazon drones drop off impulse buys into West Valley yards, or the occasional pool. Cat-faced waiter droids schlep plates at local restaurants. And Waymo robotaxis haul our drunk asses home from the bar. At the IDEA Tempe Campus awaits your best chance for a meet-cute with robots, assuming you behave. The 18-acre property near Tempe Town Lake is patrolled by a squad of Dax robots, 3-foot-tall black-and-white security droids that roll about on tank-like treads. (Picture a robotic love child of Pixar's WALL-E and EVE.) Spot one during business hours or while strolling a lakeside path and you might get a head tilt or see their digital googly eyes become hearts. Trespass after dark and the flirty vibes ends fast, resulting in a no-nonsense warning. The Dax robots went viral earlier this year thanks to Tempe's Adam Pioth, who filmed himself hanging out with the droids and blowing marijuana smoke in their faces. The clips racked up 9 million Instagram views before Pioth was banned for trespassing. Still, he can count himself lucky. Unlike ED-209 from "RoboCop," these security bots didn't respond with deadly force. Yet.

When Santa brings presents to the children of Moon Valley in the dark hours of Christmas Eve, he has to wear sunglasses. That's how bright and overwhelming the Christmas lights are in the north Phoenix neighborhood. Every December evening when the sun goes down, neighborhood streets fill up with onlookers peering out of cars and even riding in the back of trailers to catch a glimpse of the intricate light arrays. Yards and roofs are filled with Peanuts characters, Disney favorites and general holiday decor. Some houses have light shows that are timed to songs you can dial up on your car radio. Last year, one home featured a game of Pac-Man on the roof, controlled from the sidewalk by a joystick. A handy map and app found on the neighborhood association's website ensures you can see all the best sights and lights — though it won't alleviate the feeling of inadequacy you get when you return to your much simpler display back home.

Heather Corcoran's Halloween display is the Swiftie dream we didn't know we needed during the spooky season. In 2023, this die-hard Taylor Swift fan began transforming her north Phoenix home into a full-on tribute to the multiplatinum pop sensation. Inspired by the epic Eras Tour, which she saw live at State Farm Stadium in Glendale, Corcoran went all out. The self-taught seamstress decorated her yard with more than a dozen skeletons, each rocking an iconic Taylor look. Among the collection: the cheerleading uniform from "Shake It Off"; the bespectacled schoolgirl clutching the "You OK?" notepad from "You Belong With Me"; and even the sweater from "Cardigan." The display became a local sensation. Swifties flocked from across the Valley. Local news crews showed up. Footage even appeared on "Jimmy Kimmel Live!" and "The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon." Corcoran went even bigger in 2024, adding more skeletons and a Barbie-sized "Lover" house. She's already working on this year's version. Expect a 12-foot-tall skeleton in a showgirl dress in honor of T-Swizzle's latest album and miniature versions of the "Anti-Hero" ghosts. If Halloween has a pop culture crown, Corcoran has claimed it.

We don't wait till October to get into the spooky spirit; we love all things ghostly and unexplained all year round. And so do Heather Rhyneer and Michelle Vincent, the co-founders of East Valley Paranormal and its haunted museum in downtown Mesa. Like the Ghostbusters, the pair is here for all your supernatural needs, whether it's a psychic reading by Vincent, a lights-out tour of the museum or a Victorian seance hosted by local spiritualist Flitter Mouse. Their unbelievably fun ghost tours take customers around the area on Day of the Dead-themed Rydable animals. Rhyneer and Vincent are passionate about the paranormal, experienced in the world of ghost-hunting and welcoming to customers of all ages and levels of belief in the supernatural. East Valley Paranormal is a one-stop shop for spooky fun.

No kink-shaming here: Whatever you, a consenting adult, want to do with other consenting adults is A-OK in our book. They share that philosophy over at Arizona Power Exchange, your friendly neighborhood BDSM dungeon. Nestled in a nondescript commercial park, APEX has been a hub for NSFW activity in the Valley for decades. Signing up for one of its membership plans unlocks the door to a staggering amount of events, classes, parties and workshops — everything from discussions on non-monogamy and shibari classes to fetish balls and board game nights. The atmosphere is welcoming and nonjudgmental, which is crucial when you're a newbie just trying to learn how to safely beat someone with a flogger. Interested in dipping your toe into these scintillating waters? APEX hosts two public events each year — Kink Karnival and Bizarre Bazaar — during which the fetish-curious can watch demos, shop for gear and check out the vibe.