Open at the crack of noon Friday through Monday, this bizarre boutique is your one-stop shop for death-centric items, edge weapons, and forensic anthropology. Owner Vyle Raven-Greyv has crammed her 2,200-square-foot store with gas masks, lingerie, and original Wiccan art prints and statuary. Where else can you find an embalming table full of gravestone soap, a wall full of spiritual icons, and enough quasi-military fetish gear to outfit a kinky platoon? Nowhere but this Bazaar Noir, we assure you.
This is a climate-controlled track, so the only heat at Speedway is the one you are competing in.
Readers' Choice for Best Place to Pop the Question: South Mountain
But the crown jewel of the place is the elevated race track. Set inside the nicely air-conditioned building, about 30 feet above ground, the track looks out on a spectacularly huge window, providing a rather inspiring view as you work out.
Monthly, six month and annual passes are available, and Gilbert businesses can get a corporate discount.
We hope La Voz's recent sale to Gannett doesn't mean it morphs into another "McPaper."
Readers' Choice for Best Spanish Language News Radio: KHOT-FM 105.9
When they should have been losing with a stable of injured veterans, they once again found ways to win, this time with a stable of greenhorn minor leaguers who still look more likely bound for Williamsport than Cooperstown.
If you've noticed, the D-Backs are the only pro franchise in the Valley capable of pleasant surprises. While the Cardinals and Coyotes turn star prospects into jerkwad flameouts with felony records, the Diamondbacks turn no-name minor leaguers into lovable superstars.
Now, if we could just see that sort of personality and performance out of the rest of the Valley's pro teams, we might someday be a legitimate four-sport town.
Until then, it'll just continue to be the D-Backs and the occasional burst of Suns-shine.
Readers' Choice: Arizona Diamondbacks
Not much, apparently.
There they are -- swastikas -- carved right into the façade of the Arizona State Office Building in downtown Phoenix, home to the state's Department of Agriculture. As it turns out, the swastika -- then called a "whirling log" -- was a design element used in India, Tibet and Turkey long before Adolf Hitler hijacked it as the logo for his National Socialist Party -- and, ultimately, a universal symbol of hatred.
Ancient Native Americans used the "whirling log" in their artwork as well, including Arizona's Pima, Maricopa and Navajo, which is probably why it ended up as part of the Arizona State Office Building, erected in 1930.
But who thinks about whirling logs now? Not the Native Americans, who long ago signed a decree renouncing the use of the swastika on any artwork.
Guess it's harder to get out that sandblaster than it is to blast dissenters on a committee in charge of naming mountains.