By Chris Lane
By Jeff Balke
By Aaron Reiss
By Angelica Leicht
By Dianna Wray
By Aaron Reiss
By Camilo Smith
By Craig Malisow
Signs that, it turns out, make for a handy device to mark just where you should put the chain saw.
As the accompanying pictures show, a Memorial Park-area site that we guess is soon to be the home of tasteful, elegant town homes (aren't they all?) is a terrific piece of testimony to just how effective the city's tree-protection people are. The signs, in English and Spanish, must have forestalled the chopping down of the oaks for all of 30 seconds, assuming the cutters paused to chuckle heartily.
Geez, the 35 mile-per-hour signs way out Westheimer are more effective on a Friday night than these things were.
Roger Barnaby saw the stumps and the signs while riding his bike about a month ago, so he called the city. "If you were going to illegally cut the trees, I would have at least taken off the posting," he says.
City staffers, he says, "seemed really confused about it, and I explained the situation and they said someone would call me back," he says.
No one did, so he called again the next day. "The woman that I spoke to said unless I knew who cut the trees they couldn't do anything. I said, 'Can't you at least investigate?' They said, 'Unless you saw it, we can't do anything.' "
Parks Department spokeswoman Marene Gustin says the city is definitely on the case, no matter what Barnaby was told.
"That was a very visible violation of the tree ordinance," she says. "I personally got phone calls from city officials who were driving by there, and they said, 'Oh, my God, these trees have been cut,' " she says.
There's a difference of opinion as to who's at fault -- Henry Zalay, the supervisor for Specialist Tree Service, says the property owner said he had a permit to cut the trees down; the property owner, Jorge Barer, says the tree-service company told him it was okay to chop.
The city says Specialist Tree Service received a citation, with a potential fine of up to $500; Barer has agreed to replace the trees.
By ordinance, the city could have fined the guilty party $500 for each tree cut down illegally -- why not slam 'em hard to scare off other ax-happy builders?
Oh. We forgot. This is Houston. No word on whether future "No Cutting" signs will be placed higher up on trees so more of the trunks can be saved after they're axed.
Voice of the Oilers
Lawrence Harris was an offensive lineman for the Houston Oilers during their "Luv Ya Blue" heyday, when Bum Phillips and Earl Campbell ruled the town, if not the AFC (thanks to those hated Pittsburgh Steelers).
Now he's an opera singer, playing Rigoletto for the Center City Opera in Philadelphia. He started out as a tenor and a year ago became a baritone, a switch that hopefully didn't require painful surgery.
Q. How's it going?
A. It's been nothing but great [since the switch]. Because the baritone roles, they're meatier, there's more testosterone involved, so I can bring in all the facets of the locker room and all that. The aggression and the intensity of, you know, the athlete, and be one of the guys. You get to be a villain, so it's a lot more fun.
Q. Can you relate Rigoletto to football?
A. He gets very violent and very aggressive and he takes on all the courtiers and, you know, he's ready to kill. But he's also a buffoon. So, you know, being a lineman [chuckles], you're not really the quarterback. I related very easily.
Q. Did you sing while playing football?
A. All the rookies get up and sing at your rookie camp. And you know most of the guys get up and sing things like "I'm a Little Teapot" or "Jingle Bells" or something like that It's just a way of embarrassing you or seeing how intimidated you're going to get. So I got up and sang an Italian art song. At first nobody knew what to think. And then they clapped.
Q. What were the musical tastes under Bum Phillips?
A. Oh, man. [Chuckles.] Well, we had the "Cannonball Express" [an excruciatingly off-tune version of the folk song "The Wabash Cannonball" by center Carl Mauck]. And then we had Mauck, when we came back from getting beat by Pittsburgh that one year singing "God Bless America" [drunkenly and excruciatingly off-tune, he didn't add].
Q. It should have been you. What did you think of Mauck's songs?
A. [Laughs at length, finally catches his breath.] I thought they were very appropriate, for Houston and the Oilers and everything.
No one can ever accuse the GOP in Fort Bend County of not being slick.
Maybe they sensed their judicial candidate, Cliff Vacek, was in trouble. Seems unlikely in Tom DeLay's home, but you never know. Vacek had been beaten in his attempt two years ago to win the GOP primary for D.A.; he then amassed a $100,000 war chest to take the 400th District Court seat.