So Much More Than a Hot Dog
A search for the area's top bacon-wrapped frank
7.01.2010
Sonoran hot dogs have never been hotter.
The New York Times. National Public Radio. Bon Appétit magazine. "CBS Sunday Morning." Two Travel Channel shows ("Man v. Food" and "Food Wars"). In the last year, all came to Tucson to sample the delicious dogs that have become our signature snack. The Sonoran hot dog, hawked by "hotdogueros" at more than 100 roadside carts and restaurants around town, is a bacon-wrapped wiener served in a soft bolillo bun. Likely invented in Sonora, Mexico, most come loaded with pinto beans, shredded cheese, chopped tomato and onion, mustard, mayo and guacamole sauce, though toppings will differ from dog to dog. But whose dog is best? More.

Building "An" Empire
6.10.2010
Kwang C. An is standing on the sidewalk at the corner of East Congress Street and Fifth Avenue in front of what will be his first downtown restaurant. He's dressed all in black, his signature shaved head and silver-rimmed eyeglasses reflecting the morning sun. A blue sedan makes a left onto Congress and the driver leans out the window and waves. "Hey Mr. An," he shouts, "How are you?" An doesn't know the man, but waves anyway. "Hello there!" he replies as the car disappears. This is not unusual for An, who is accustomed to strangers greeting him like an old friend. Thanks to a string of low-budget television commercials promoting the popular Sakura restaurant and featuring former Arizona Diamondbacks player Luis Gonzalez (who An calls his "No. 1 son"), the Korea native has become a household name and one of Tucson's most recognizable faces. More.

All Souls Procession
Tucson's signature event is 20 years old
11.05.2009
People grieve in different ways. Ed Muren is building a dummy with solar-powered light-up eyes and skin made of latex. The 31-year-old, who works as a gallery assistant and part-time masseuse, says he plans to bring the character with him to Sunday's All Souls Procession, an event he has attended in recent years with his human friends. The 4-foot-tall figure, which will have a face painted white and will be dressed in a black cloak, pays tribute to an uncle who worked as a pilot and died in a plane crash last year. More.

Make your big day green
Many couples find ways to lessen nuptials' impact on planet
06.14.2009
Both my fiancee Suz and I are green people. • I drive a scooter to work, and she rides a bicycle to her office in the bowels of Arizona Stadium, where she conducts climate change research. • We recycle everything: paper, plastic, glass and cardboard. • We drink tap water, use energy-efficient light bulbs, and we're both vegetarians. • So when we started planning our wedding, I assumed it would be a minimal affair, consistent with our low-impact lifestyle. • But despite our best intentions, we got off to a very ungreen start. More.

Bisbee hills are alive on race day
Coasters have raced through the center of city for nearly a century
07.02.2009
Jaime Curiel, 15, taps the steering wheel with his finger tips, waiting for his turn to speed downhill. It's the Tucson High Magnet School student's first time driving the coaster that his grandfather Bennie Scott, a retired police officer and a member of the Bisbee City Council, borrowed for him. Today is just practice. Riders have gathered for a mandatory run down the hill, so they can get used to the course's twists and turns and so race organizers can inspect the cars and lecture the drivers about safety. More.

Do-it-yourself bicyclists on a budget
02.26.2009
Beth Jones tugs at the back wheel of her single-speed bicycle, trying to remove any slack from the chain. The Loft Cinema employee has short, black hair and is wearing tapered black jeans. Her hands are covered with grease. Jones, 26, is putting the finishing touches on the second bike she's built at BICAS, a Downtown bicycle cooperative. All of the parts — the frame, crankshafts, handlebars, bottom bracket, brakes, everything but the tires and tubes — came from the piles of donated materials that sit in plastic crates at BICAS' headquarters. The first bicycle Jones built at BICAS was stolen, but rather than give up on cycling, she treated it as an opportunity. More.

Burlesque is back
Half-dozen risqué cabaret troupes tantalize Downtown
02.05.2009
The red curtain parts and out steps Inga Kaboom. The look on her face is no-nonsense. She beckons, but beware: She might just devour her mate. Kaboom, whose real name is Kate Miners, slowly walks to center stage, tantalizing the audience at Surly Wench Pub with the occasional shimmy or shake. More. 

Go on, scoot!
They're affordable, efficient and a kick
11.06.2008
Matthew Noli was part of the mod revival that hit the U.S. in the 1980s when he was in high school. He kept it up as an undergrad at the University of Arizona, where he listened to ska music, wore tailor-made suits and rode an Italian motor scooter on campus and for nights out at Hotel Congress. Today, those fitted suits no longer fit. And he's more likely to visit the zoo with his wife and 6-month-old son than go to a concert. But one thing hasn't changed — Noli still rides a scooter. More.

The Hustla
How a white kid from the North became a power player in Atlanta hip-hop
05.10.2006
Scooter Braun is doing what he does best. He's multitasking. "If I'm about to crash, just tell me," Braun says as he texts with one hand and steers with the other. Braun is pulling out of Chaka Zulu's west Atlanta studio, where the two just discussed a possible venture in the movie industry, when the light at the intersection turns yellow. He pauses for a second, then seems to remember that he's driving a Mercedes CLK 320 with a 215-horsepower engine and steps on the gas. The light turns red, but Braun zooms through, anyway. That's how Braun lives: fast, and with a certain disregard for the rules. It's how he's navigated his life since arriving in Atlanta five-and-a-half years ago as an Emory University freshman. More.

It's 3 a.m. What Now?
One guy's journey to keep the party going after the bars shut down
10.19.2005
Talking to people about Atlanta's after-hours scene is like going to couple's therapy. It's always the same complaints: Things have changed. It's not as much fun as it used to be. What happened to the old spark? It used to be that there were options, however sleazy, for party people determined to dance (and drink) the night (and morning) away. Not anymore. Club Anytime, a long-running den of nocturnal iniquity, morphed into the '80s-reminiscent Riviera before finally closing last year. Club 112, a blinged-out mix of hip-hoppers and thuggish rappers, moved to Crescent Avenue last year and no longer stays open all night. And the bad uncle of all 24-hour clubs, the infamously drug-addled Backstreet, closed last year after the city -- pushed by well-heeled Midtowners -- failed to renew the club's business license. More.