Best Of :: People & Places
Goode Co. Barbeque When it comes to native pride -- the kind that makes you want to hook your thumbs inside your overalls and throw your chest out -- no state in the union does it quite like ours. Everything is bigger in Texas; everything, that is, except for irony. Hey, we are bigger than France, aren't we? The entreaty tattooed on the side of Jim Goode's barbecue barn is no thrift-store kitsch phrase -- it's earnest, it's the real deal: "You just might give some serious thought to thanking your lucky stars that you're in Texas." The old-timey jukebox, the DIY ice chest of beer, the assorted horns and antlers on the wall and ol' Jim looking like the lost fourth member of ZZ Top -- in a culture of affectation, premature nostalgia and placeless chain eateries, these are artifacts without artifice. So slather up a plate with our finest national export and ask yourself this question: Is there anywhere you'd rather be?
Downtown lofts "Adaptive reuse" is the fancy phrase used by builders to describe the process of renovating old buildings for new uses. It's a simple idea that's finally taking hold downtown, where old shells of former banks and office buildings are gutted and reconstructed for the adventurous urban dweller. We're not talking about the highway-adjacent, corrugated tin cans that promise "loft living." We're talking about the real thing: the big, atmospheric lobbies, thick rock walls, concrete floors and skyline views you'll find at the Southern Pacific Railroad building (now the Bayou Lofts at 915 Franklin) or the Rice Lofts (909 Texas). And using spaces that are already there minimizes new, "ground-up" construction (drab condos and look-alike town homes), cutting down on sprawl and highway congestion.
Metro light rail Okay, there are the accidents (mostly the fault of Houston drivers) and the occasionally backed-up traffic, but any new addition to the city that can increase mobility, cut pollution and get people back downtown is a winner to us. And with plans in the works to bring more development (housing, stores and amenities) to the light rail corridor, by 2006 you'll be able to pick up groceries, get to your doctor's appointment, hit the gym and meet your date for drinks at the Icon all in one afternoon, without ever using a car or freeway. Is this Houston, or are we dreaming?
Art Car Parade This year's parade, the 17th, featured a dragon, a cadre of Elvises and a giant George W. Bush thrusting his pelvis into a big globe. Whether you like the downright wacky entries or the ones with a little more edge, you can't help but admire the art car owners' craftsmanship and questionable sanity. Every year, hundreds of Houston's car artists unveil their winged, painted and appliquéd creations for the thousands of folks who line Allen Parkway. Every wagon, hearse and monster truck is tricked out (not to mention the occasional scooter and bike) in this true Houston original. It's best to get there early to find a shady spot and watch what happens when Henry Ford meets Salvador Dalí.
Delaney Hall The "What would Jesus drive?" bumper stickers aren't likely to be succeeded by "Where would Jesus hang?" varietals, but the question is nonetheless worth asking. If the Lord were to pick His favorite Houston building, He might choose Delaney Hall, the new earth-friendly addition to the Emerson Unitarian Church. The brick building will soon become the first church in Texas to meet stringent Leadership in Environmental Design standards, which have become the benchmark for eco-friendly architecture. The structure takes a load off Mother Earth with auto-shutoff faucets, carpet made from recycled materials and a metal roof that reflects light to reduce cooling bills. It uses 30 percent less water and energy than a conventional building, despite being built on a tight construction budget, says Rebecca Bryant of Ray Bailey Architects. Even the landscaping is earth-friendly: The native varieties planted here drink less than imported varieties, and they attract butterflies to the adjacent playground.
Marfa Call it a triple threat. For more than a hundred years, folks have seen unexplained lights near Marfa, putting the small West Texas town on the map of Agent Mulder types. Just under 50 years ago, director George Stevens filmed Giant there, forever cementing the place as a shrine to Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, James Dean and Dennis Hopper. And then 20-something years later, artist Donald Judd set up shop at the site of a former military base in the same area, creating sprawling installations that would forever change the face of the local landscape -- and the world of contemporary art. Now the entire town is awash in galleries, commemorative plaques and paranormal junkies. It's almost too much to take in at once.