Turkeys of the Year

ZZ Top's apogee came during the Nixon administration. Its nadir came not long afterward, when it pioneered the MTV formula of gimmicky visuals and lots of T. (Not to mention A.) They've been cruising downhill ever since, with the emphasis on "cruising." (Not to mention "downhill.")

It wasn't bad enough that they flogged their quickly tiresome formula for all it was worth and more. (Is there much difference between "Legs" and "Sharp-Dressed Man"?) At the height of the '80s, when their maniacal branding efforts turned them into parody, they rereleased their early, gritty albums -- gussied up to sound like the MTV crap they'd been sleepwalking through.

But boy, we (allegedly) love them in Houston. The group has served as celebrity models wearing the newly unveiled Houston Texans uniforms; they have been "entertainment ambassadors" for the doomed effort to land the 2012 Olympics. (Maybe the Olympic site committee members were still pissed over the $17.95 they'd spent six years ago on Rhythmeen.)

On the plus side, the group provided Houston with the most bizarre '70s flashback ever -- at least until Iraq turned into a foreign-conflict quagmire -- when, shortly after then-Enron Field opened, Billy Gibbons took in a game with Farrah Fawcett. Apparently Rerun from What's Happening had other plans that night.

And now the trio is embarking on yet another blitz of Houston-centric publicity. They have a new album out called Mescalero and a four-disc boxed set, and they are scheduled to play the last concert at Compaq Center before the arena gets transformed into a church.

So we should expect to hear a lot about ZZ Top as the year draws to a close. We're betting someone will, when writing about the last concert, juxtapose the words "church" and "roadhouse." Because you can get your rock critic's license revoked if you write about ZZ Top without constantly using the word "roadhouse" or other Texana clichés.

And what about Mescalero? Is it just another rehash of the same tired formula? Not according to our Houston Chronicle.

"Bordering On Their Best," read the headline on last month's review. "The guitar licks were born on the bayou and on the porches of shotgun tracks," Michael D. Clark wrote. (What, no roadhouse reference? You're on probation, Clark.) He also noted that "the slick electric chords of 'Alley-Gator' are a slight tease at past hits, such as 'Legs' and 'Sharp-Dressed Man,' " which he apparently counts as a good thing.

The album didn't fare so well with other big-time papers, though. Here are some pullquotes you're not likely to see in any ads:

The Chicago Tribune: "Theirs is a formula that is now two decades old... 'Mescalero' is a mostly de rigueur affair, with its mechanized rhythms, heavily processed guitars and weak single entendres."

The Boston Herald: "Despite some cool nuggets, 'Mescalero' smacks of stadium rock: big but meaningless."

The New York Times: " 'Mescalero' updates the sound, filtering it though electronic effects. Why not? Taco Bell has a Web site, but the food's the same."

Ouch. Looks like Billy Gibbons will have to stoke the publicity machine by taking some other "hot" star to an Astros game. Is Loretta Swit busy these days?

Turkey Couple

The Turkey Couple of the Year is easy enough to determine: none other than those giddy go-getters, Andrew and Lea Fastow. They set the world on fire at Enron, but now are facing separate trials for all kinds of nefarious things. Andrew faces 100 counts of fraud-related charges; Lea, who faces a mere six counts, is expected to testify she didn't know what her husband might or might not have been doing at Enron.

THANKSGIVING WITH THE FASTOWS

A One-Act Play

An elegant River Oaks dining room is set with pricey china, some pieces of which still feature the price tags from Jus' Stuff. At either end of the table sit LEA and ANDREW FASTOW, dressed to the nines. Behind each, along the wall, sits a group of expensively dressed men and women.

Andrew: Pass the salt, dear, please.

Lea: (Turns and briefly confers with the group behind her.) I was unaware we had any salt, dear.

A: It's the white stuff in that crystal shaker in front of you.

L: (Again huddles with the group behind her, then turns to face ANDREW.) Oh, that stuff? I had no idea. (She examines the shaker.) Live and learn, I guess.

A: Darling, we've been using salt for years.

L: (Confers again with attorneys.) I knew, of course, that there was indeed some granular substance that we occasionally applied to our food when the cook was having a bad day, but to be honest with you that's about as far as I went in terms of my understanding. I didn't ask a lot of questions.

A: Didn't you wonder whether you were about to put sugar or salt on your Kobe steak?