Two weeks ago, Secretary of the Interior Bruce Babbitt slipped into Phoenix to talk to Governor Jane Dee Hull about a land trade proposal that could fundamentally reshape the escalating debate between developers and conservationists over unbridled urban sprawl. On the same day that legislators were duking it out over…
“Bar’s loaded!” yells the referee. Powerlifter Tim Isaac now has 60 seconds to begin his lift. He takes a deep whiff from a bottle of ammonia to increase the oxygen in his blood, then approaches the bench. As he walks, his tightly strapped bench-press jacket forces his arms straight out,…
With its crude lettering, sloppy punctuation and juvenile doggerel, the ramshackle signage looks like something you’d expect to see outside Spanky and Alfalfa’s clubhouse, not in the front yard of a home in the heart of one of the Valley’s more exclusive neighborhoods. But for more than three weeks now,…
Many of the 13,000 investors left penniless in the contrail of the Baptist Foundation of Arizona’s $640 million bankruptcy have long blamed Arthur Andersen LLP, a major multinational accounting firm with offices in Phoenix, for their troubles. If the accounting firm had told the truth and had not given BFA…
Alice in 1984 When you run the best-managed city in the universe, you will stop at nothing — including surreal bookkeeping — to maintain the image. Such is the case with Phoenix bureaucrats, who decided to nip the costly Celebration 2000 embarrassment in the bud(get) by cooking the books and,…
“I feel a bit sorry for us here in America, where presidential campaigns have all the depth and verisimilitude of one interminably long infomercial…” John Highsmith McCain’s Gravy “Haunted by Spirits” (John Dougherty and Amy Silverman, February 17) is a fascinating and expertly written piece. As a McCain supporter, I…
This classroom lecture could be titled “Finding your inner predator.” Its premise is that carrying a handgun and training to use it are virtues that are too often neglected, like dental care. “Good people get killed and raped all the time because they fail to accept this basic responsibility of…
For much of his 36 years, suspected racketeer and former Arizona Corporation Commission executive secretary Jack Rose has “felt deeply ashamed and unhappy about my family and about who I was.” His Ivy League banter implies that he was born into a patrician world, but Rose grew up dirt poor…
In the words of Ebonics-spouting female horndog Clarissa Jenkins, “Necessity be da mutha of invenshun, baby. Know what ah’m sayin’?” Thanks to DJ Steve Tingle, father of this comic creation, fans of the Valley’s premier trash-talkin’ radio floozy know only too well. Just ask anyone who’s ever tuned in to…
A rusty sign reading “Cactus Garage” marks the only remnant of what was once Cactus, Arizona. Make that one of two remnants. Eighty-year-old desert rat Larry Jany is the oldest resident of Cactus, which sprang up as a stagecoach stop between Cave Creek and Phoenix. When Jany moved here 50…
The Joke’s on You Could Joke Arpaio find himself living in a tent soon? It could happen, unless the Maricopa County sheriff and Tent City overlord has the funds to pay off a debt of $195,000. Or unless it comes out of the public purse. A jury last month awarded…
Candidate With Destiny I am a Republican, and I appreciate all your efforts to uncover the real story behind John McCain (“Haunted by Spirits,” John Dougherty and Amy Silverman, February 17). I am sending your article to everyone I know. I appreciate that not everyone in journalism is so politically…
Gary Tredway is Howard Mechanic. We know this after the man was ratted out in the wings, then stripped of his mask on center stage. Mechanic has stood there since, lashed to the media’s whipping post, competing for attention with a dismembered torso. Mostly, he’s won. Mechanic is more fun…
Arizona Department of Liquor Licenses and Control could charitably be described as lax when it comes to enforcing state liquor laws. Despite repeated violations of state laws — particularly selling beer to unlicensed businesses — the department has levied only one fine against Hensley & Company in the past 30…
This story is about the interests of justice in Maricopa County, about the kind of man they protect, and the kind of man they don’t. If I were a country balladeer, I’d call this tale “The Pistol Whippin’ Rancher From Cave Creek.” That would be Tom Rose, 53, an ex-cop…
During a recess in the final week of his monthlong murder trial, David Brackney turned to his friends and family members in the gallery and softly said, “It looks like I’ll be bringing cookies to church soon.” Brackney, 47, and his attorneys were convinced they had cause for such optimism…
Story Weaves Bizarre Web There’s a telling quote from a spokesman for Senator John McCain in the February 6 Millennial Arizona Republic. It’s in the story on Humble John’s non-role in a murder, and his non-dalliance with faded starlet Connie Stevens. The campaign flack, Dan Schnur, warned Republic editors and…
Immigrant Song My hat is off to David Holthouse, again, on his near-suicidal venture into Agua Prieta reporting on the departure gate of the illegal immigrant underground railway that ends in Garfield, Wilson, Balsz, Grant Park and the other “communities of first arrival” in downtown Phoenix (“Fresh Game,” February 3)…
“May I smoke?” Agnieszka Holland asks. It’s a gracious request, considering that she’s sitting in her own hotel room, during a recent visit to Phoenix. Of course, her interviewer tells her; after all, where would a Polish director be without a cigarette in hand? “Yes,” she replies, lighting up. “I…
Would United States Senator John McCain be a presidential contender if it weren’t for his marriage to Cindy Hensley McCain, heiress to the Hensley liquor fortune? It’s doubtful. The senator’s wife and — more important — his father-in-law, James Willis Hensley, are very wealthy people. Like his father and grandfather…
There is the sound of packs of hogs. An audible rotary force that grasps the chest and rearranges heartbeats. A thousand speed-addled Keith Moons banging contrarily away on tom-toms, kicks and snares couldn’t top its fanfare. The crooning grumble of pampered hog motors concedes to snappy spitters and spats, and…
Jimmy Creasman was a lucky man. The proof was in the piles of letters, photographs and other memorabilia I found scattered in the alley behind his house in Tempe two years ago. They told about how he’d come home from World War II and lived out the promise of his…
