Who says all the great treasures in thrift stores are scooped up by antique dealers and crafty pickers? Not Mary Scanlon, who found a previously undiscovered recording of a 1964 speech given by Martin Luther King Jr. at Arizona State University.

The tape was among a pile of reel-to-reel audio recordings made by Phoenix businessman and civil rights leader Lincoln Ragsdale Sr. Apparently, someone had dumped the three dozen tapes at a local Goodwill after Ragsdale's death in 1995.

Scanlon did a little sleuthing and after finding an Arizona Republic ad from June 1964 announcing King's appearance at ASU, she took the box of tapes to Rob Spindler, ASU archivist and curator of special collections for Arizona. Once Spindler and his staff determined that the King recording was legit, he brokered permission to make the speech available online through ASU's Library Repository.

It turned out that King had been invited to deliver the speech, titled "Religious Witness for Human Dignity," by the Maricopa County chapter of the NAACP. The discovery of the recording is significant in part because the speech is mentioned in passing in a couple of MLK biographies, yet its text — specific to spirituality and equality in religion — had been lost to time. What's more, King gave the address less than a month before the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964 was signed into law by President Johnson and despite the fact that King's presence here was not supported by Senator Barry Goldwater, then at the height of his power.

So, being here at all was brave of MLK, whose speech is preserved at ASU for all time. In fact, two dozen of the tapes from Scanlon's thrift score, others of which also contained speeches by powerful rights activists of the time, have been digitized and archived at the university.

The mystery remains, however: How did such important material end up in a dusty box at a local thrift store?

It might be the single most ubiquitous antique-shop item in the history of vintage resale. The West Bend Penguin Hot and Cold Server (known to collectors at the Penguin Ice Bucket) was a globe-shaped kitchenware server, embossed with a clutch of penguins marching around its perimeter and perfect for ice cubes on the bar or rolls hot from the oven. Manufactured by the West Bend Aluminum Company in 1941 and available throughout the early '70s, the Penguin came in three metal finishes: chrome-plated steel, brushed aluminum, and solid copper. The chrome version, available with three different knob and penguin-wing-shaped handle options (wood, black Bakelite, and the more rare red Bakelite) was the most common.

The Penguin, a popular staple in many households for decades, can be found in nearly every antiques store in the country — but no more so than in Phoenix, where there appear to be more Penguins per resale square foot than in any other city. Why?

The story goes that, when West Bend ceased manufacturing of the Penguin in 1971, the leftover stock was sold to a man named Herman Fern. Herman, a former West Bend sales rep who'd retired to Phoenix, reportedly bought up all the leftover Penguins, then set about selling them, door to door, all over the Valley of the Sun. More than one local remembers Herman, in a three-piece suit, demonstrating the marvels of a shiny silver globe that keeps things both hot and cold!

When Herman died, his family reportedly found a stash of mint-in-box Penguins that they immediately sold to a Phoenix-based mid-century dealer, who began reselling them to local antique mall dealers. Thus, the inordinate number of shiny round chrome ice buckets (great for keeping rolls warm!) all over the Valley.

Next time you see a Penguin, think of Herman Fern.

BEST BOOKSTORE -- NEW TITLES
Borders Books & Music
several Valley locations

BEST BOOKSTORE -- USED TITLES
Bookman's Used Books, Music and Software
1056 South Country Club Drive, Mesa
480-835-0505

BEST SECONDHAND SHOP
Buffalo Exchange
227 West University, Tempe
480-968-2557

730 East Missouri
602-532-0144

BEST BIKE SHOP
Tempe Bicycle
330 West University, Tempe
480-966-6896

BEST MOVIE THEATER
Harkins Theatres
several Valley locations

BEST PLACE TO RENT A SUPERHERO COSTUME
Bert Easley's Fun Shop
509 West McDowell
602-271-9146

Boojum is long known as a premier nursery for beautiful, exotic plants. Named after a tall, spiny tree known only to the Sonoran Desert and Baja, the gardening shop is evolving into a romantic escape for get-togethers. After 18 years, the family that owns the spot is transforming the five-acre property into lush gardens for special events. We love the mini Mexican village, resplendent with artifacts, fountains and greenery. We love the greenhouse, lush like a tropical island. We can't wait to see what's coming soon: a lake, an English garden and a Zen garden. We love knowing that once, Boojum was surrounded by raw desert, and now, as civilization grows, it will still proudly carry forth our Southwestern spirit, rich with indigenous plants and local charm. Boojum, you're beautiful.

If you're a book freak and you have some time left over after tucking into that brown-bag lunch, it's hard to find a brainier downtown work break than the Book Island. Nestled neatly at the foot of the Luhrs Building, the Island is a triple treat for any nerd with some spare time to kill. Not only is it a decently stocked secondhand book shop, but it's laced with some especially unique antique volumes. And to make the trifecta complete, if you look hard enough, you can sometimes find some jaw-dropping bargains.

Looking for a copy of Robert Payne's Life and Death of Lenin? Probably not, but they have it. Interested in an original edition of O. Henry's Roads of Destiny from 1922? It can be yours for eight bucks. And while most libraries may be complete without the first edition of Charles Knight's William Shakspere [sic]: A Biography -- circa 1880 -- it must be said that the Book Island not only has it, but it has it for a mere $25. Also keep your eyes open for its small stash of Little Leather Library books from the 1920s; tiny leather-bound classics, like Man Without a Country and Courtship of Miles Standish, each about the size of a cigarette pack, go for $10 apiece. Just the right size for you to devour during your next sack lunch.

If you like lowriders but the family car isn't ready for the change, how about just starting with a model? That way, you can get as elaborate as you like, as you customize your plastic dream, and not worry about how the family's going to get around in the meantime. Homies Hobbies is the perfect place for fulfilling your mini lowrider dreams.

When you're ready to work on a more human scale, Homies Hobbies can also help you build a lowrider bike. Custom seats, frames, springs, whitewall tires embossed with the word "lowrider" and a ton of chrome can be found here to help you make or customize your own low-to-the-ground bike.

And if playing with Barbie and Ken is becoming too boring for the kids, then Homies is still the way to go. It has a huge selection of the addictive and collectible "Homies" dolls. From Smiley to El Flaco, the complete collection of little homies is available, as well as the stickers, key chains and doll houses -- but we'd rather call them mini-cribs. And forget Barbie's Corvette -- you can lowride your Homie in your own customized minicoach!

In the bastion of beauty and newness that is far north Scottsdale, it's only fitting that the neighborhood's shiniest new resort, perched in the foothills of Pinnacle Peak, showcases the Valley's most stunning views.

Though it's unquestionably classy, this Four Seasons isn't your typical Scottsdale resort. Rather than rooted in glitz, its grandeur rises from nature. The patio adjacent to the Lobby Lounge and the elegant Acacia restaurant presents a postcard-perfect view of the High Sonoran Desert, which -- wonder of wonders -- still looks like a desert. The resort's construction emphasized efforts to preserve the land's natural beauty. (Natural beauty? In Scottsdale?) Even the few surrounding developments are earth-toned and modest, designed to complement the terrain.

Beyond the resort's lawn, the entire Valley stretches in the distance, framed by mountain ranges rising like fortress walls. On the right, the sun sinks behind Pinnacle Peak, painting the sky over the facing mountains. Order a fuchsia prickly pear margarita and watch the sky take on its color. Sit a bit longer and see that, in Scottsdale, even the stars show off.

Our friend parked at a high school football game in Mesa, then returned to his car to find his Jaguar stripped of its hubcaps. It seemed too easy that we might find the wayward caps at Hub-Cap City, itself a Mesa establishment. The grungy looking store is an endless array of gleaming chrome Frisbees, and the owner, after being pressed, nervously laughed that we didn't want to know where he got his inventory (he was kidding, really; a lot of his merchandise comes from manufacturer closeouts). No merchandise, he said, is accepted from high school students.

No Jags available today; turns out they're more precious than gold. But floor to ceiling is every other option, and priced at much, much less than a dealer. Crime doesn't pay, but when it happens, it's nice to know we can solve it for a few dollars less.

A recent newcomer to downtown, Red is the furniture boutique to satisfy your demanding inner Barbarella or George Jetson. It offers a swingin' assortment of mid-century modern chairs and couches, sleek lamps and streamlined tables, and you'll recognize a lot of the still-stylish classics, from Eames to Nelson. Conveniently located right next door to beloved vintage shop Spine, it rounds out a one-stop shopping experience for all of your retro needs.

Every owner of a lunky old professional Nikon or Canon has at one time dreamed of using his camera as a mace. This dream is the old bravado of old shooters in commune with the simple, perfect steel girth of the old pre-digital bodies.

But while most of us talk the talk, Jess Wells actually clocked a prospective thief with his Nikon FTN during a walk years ago back in New York City. A guy wanted his camera; Wells gave it to him upside the head. Major cred. Great story.

Try to find anything like it while buying a memory card at Best Buy.

Wells works at Lewis Camera Exchange, a store full of a little bit of digital but mostly soulful old F1 lenses and F4 bodies and Ilford paper and dangerous developing chemicals and oodles of institutional knowledge.

Vince Ruggiero started the store back in 1972. Most of his business still comes from ASU and other college students learning the fundamental arts and crafts of photography.

The digital age is hurting them. Five other real camera stores have folded in Arizona in the last five years because of lost revenue to megastores selling digital cameras and their memory cards.

But Ruggiero continues to survive, thanks to a loyal clientele. And clients are loyal because Ruggiero offers reasonable prices and, more important, staffers who know what they're talking about and love to talk about what they know.