Why am I suddenly craving pizza? You will be, too, when you check out our parade of acclaimed pizza emporiums, a topic on which everyone seems to have an opinion. But there's more than pepperroni and mushrooms going on in this issue: Don't miss, for instance, the insightful interview by Suzanne Loudermilk with sportscaster Keith Mills on his crime and punishment for drug abuse and his subsequent return to the airwaves. I am a friend of Keith's, and am happy he is being treated with the respect he deserves from the people of Baltimore, who recognize him, as I do, as a great guy and terrific sports voice.
Another feature that should inspire debate is a survey in our Fall Arts Preview of Baltimore's best-known artists and art experts, conducted by arts editor John Lewis. Lewis's mission: to knight the city's greatest works of art. And I think you'll be surprised by some of the 37 selections. (A graffiti tableau shares honors with the likes of the Cone Collection.)
But I have another one I think should be on the list as well—the treasure trove of Americana housed in my very own Geppi's Entertainment Museum (GEM), which celebrated its fifth birthday last month. For the big-name racing fans who descended on Baltimore for the Grand Prix last month, the museum's collection was the talk of the town, as the race organizers used GEM, with its great views of the course, as their VIP hospitality location. Among those visiting who might add it to the Greatest Works of Art list were Governor Martin O'Malley, his wife (and District Court judge) Katie, Chazz Palminteri, Michael Phelps, Kimmie Meissner, and Bucky Lasek.
And the collection is constantly being added to: Soon on display will be the original artwork to the 1937 poster of the beloved Disney Classic, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs by Gustaf Tenggren, as well as the original artwork to the very first appearance of Mickey Mouse, in a film entitled Plane Crazy.
The Mickey Mouse works once were considered the "Mona Lisas" of the International Museum of Cartoon Art in Boca Raton, which has since closed. And now, they'll be back where they rightfully belong—in Baltimore.