Lots of famous people and infamous incidents in Houston 30 years ago this month. Let's take a look at what was going on.

* The Gloved One returned to Houston for a three-night stay at the Summit for the "Bad" tour. This time, though, he was here without his brothers. Chronicle critic Marty Racine was at the concert.

Dipping, spinning, showing more moves than Michael Jordan, Michael Jackson successfully opened the first of a three-night stand at The Summit Friday.

Michael - aka His Badness, the Pepsi Kid - is far more accessible and personable on this "Bad" tour than he was with the ponderous "Thriller" road show performed last time through with his brothers at the Astrodome.

Now, it's just Michael's spotlight, which he shared Friday more with a four-person dance ensemble (La Velle Smith, Randy Allaire, Dominic Lucero and Eddie Garcia) than he did with his rhythm 'n' funk orchestra, recessed out of sight in back of the stage and featuring musical director Greg Phillinganes on keyboards, Ricky Lawson on drums, Don Boyette on bass, Jon Clark and Jennifer Batten on guitars and keyboardists Chris Currell and Rory Kaplan. The orchestra was augmented by four superb backup singers: Darryl Phinnessee, Kevin Dorsey, Dorian Holley and Sheryl Crow.

A dolled-up, decked-out overflow crowd of about 17,500 attended, filling all available seats behind the open stage. Still, the rear seats are not a bad ticket. They're close and are in view of one of three video screens.

The music for the most part was OK; Jackson's vocals at times were weak in the mix. A couple of songs really cut the groove. But the show - call it a dance concert - really revolved around the terrific floor moves of Jackson, the crisp choreography, superb musicianship and effective and surprisingly subdued lighting.

In fact, much of the presentation, despite a couple of huge flash-pot explosions, was neatly tailored, nicely understated.

Jackson started at 8:40, technically 40 minutes late, and kicked into "Starting Something", wearing a silver and black studded matador-style costume. Stripping off the waistcoat, he followed with "Heartbreak Hotel", swathed in yellow and blue lighting before ending with Michael in a laser spotlight of green.

"Human Nature" followed, a soft groove bathed in purple, blue and red. The song hit a beautiful climax.

Smooth Criminal then began on a video motif - videos were excellent throughout, timed to the dance and the lights with precision - with Jackson and two dancers framed in a silhouette in front of a "cheap hotel." Wearing a gangster fedora, Jackson slinked and slid his way through the number.

Then it was on to a ballad twosome of "I Just Can't Stop" and "She's Out of My Life". On the latter, he looked toward stage left and asked, "Can I come down there?"

No audience foray, however. Like everything in this smoothie, Jackson ventured only to a corner of the inside security lane and hugged a girl who was not surprised. The song ended with Michael pulling a favorite stunt: He freezes his pose - sometimes it's a picture of angst, other times just a dancer caught in still-life - in the middle of a verse near the end of the song.

Then it was on to a rocking "Rock With You", a terrifically nasty "Dirty Diana" and "Thriller".

Then it was on to "Working Day And Night, Billie Jean" - on which Jackson hovered over the front rows in a crane - and a bad, bad version of "Billie Jean". Bad closed out the set. I was tipped that "The Way You Make Me Feel" and/or "Man In The Mirror" would comprise the encore.

People attend one of Jackson's shows to catch a glimpse of vulnerability in the superstar facade. And even if he's the antithesis of macho, vulnerability - or a sense of humanity - is difficult to catch when the "star" is the creation, on the surface, of a plastic surgeon. There were times Friday when video close-ups of Michael revealed a face not quite real. And there were other times when you rooted for the Pepsi Kid to feel the excitement, or the love, from his fans. He gave everybody their money's worth, and, for that, I hope Michael is happy.

From 1948: HPD officer steps in it for wearing boots on the job

* Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band were also back. Here's an excerpt from Racine's April 13, 1988, article.

In his determination not to be merely an "an oldies" act, Springsteen completely revamped the concert. Instead of piling on the party songs, he asked us to listen, maybe in our seats for once, to his "Tunnel of Love".

I thought the first set lagged, but The Boss revved up the tempo on the last three selections.

He and the E Street Band, with right-hand man Clarence Clemons taking a back seat to new stagemate Patti Scialfa on guitar, opened with the title tune from "Tunnel of Love", followed by another mellow "Be True".

Then, the first old song, a hellbent "Adam Raised A Cain".

Springsteen donned acoustic for another mellow "Two Faces". Then he and Clemons did a little saxin' and rappin'. "Has spring come to Houston yet," he asked the crowd. Meanwhile Clemons parked himself on a "park" bench, and The Boss sauntered over for a few reminiscences, talking about the old days and girl-watching. Old days, like '75, when they took the "train" from New York to Houston.

That segued into "All That Heaven Will Allow", followed by the set's second intensity peak with "Seeds", a song about the homeless set in boomtown Houston: "I live on the streets in Houston-town."

A strong "Roulette" followed, before a strong version of "Cover Me". Brilliant Disguise was/is another deep love song.

Then the band turned on the juice for the closing of the set: A rocking "Spare Parts", an angry "War" and a rousing, multi-verse take on "Born In The U.S.A." The 76 minute set closed at 9:23.

The band re-entered after a 35-minute intermission on the ballad "Tougher Than The Rest", followed by the sinewy "I Ain't Got You"

and "She's The One", on which Springsteen and Clemons hammed it up like the old days. Then, a great and jubilant rocker "You Can Look But You Better Not Touch", on which The Boss yelled, "All right Houston - Dance Party."

In the intro to "Fire", I had to regrettably leave for deadline.

I may be one of the few critics not enamored of the "Tunnel of Love" LP. Yes, Springsteen has every reason to be the one for whom rock begins to address fundamental questions of life and death, the kind of subjects for which it has not been known in its short life.

But personally, I still like the fiery rockers, and he may one day return to them. As any father would, "This is just another passing phase."

* Then there was The Prank at Rice University. Reporter Nancy Stancill had the details in her April 13 story.

For 58 years, the bronze statue of founder William Marsh Rice has withstood assaults on its dignity as the centerpiece of the Rice University campus.

Generations of students have festooned the venerable statue with hats, coats, military regalia and even Santa Claus costumes.

But until Tuesday, nobody had succeeded in budging the 2,000-pound statue from its perch overlooking the Rice quadrangle.

Just before dawn, however, a campus policeman spied about 20 people around the Rice statue and noticed that a spotlight that normally illuminates the statue was dark. As he approached, the crowd scattered in all directions, said Campus Police Chief Mary Voswinkel.

Voswinkel said the officer was able to stop one student, who was driving a pickup away from the quadrangle. The officer took the student's name and let him go, then sped back to the statue to investigate.

The statue appeared intact - but it was facing the Fondren Library to the south instead of the Lovett Building to the north.

Later that morning, it took a crew of professional museum movers and a crane to do an about-face on the statue. The turnaround took 3 1/2 hours and attracted a crowd of about 50 students, administrators and faculty members.

"It was a student prank," said Bill Noblitt, Rice's director of university relations. "It was a rite of spring-type thing."

Noblitt said the vandalism could have had serious consequences, because students apparently used wooden A-frames to lift the statue.

The lifting devices that were found were cracked and the statue could have fallen during the moving operation, although it did not do so.

The student who was questioned will face disciplinary action from the university, but Rice officials did not release further details.

Predictably, the serious nature of the vandalism was lost on the wisecracking students.

"It was really windy yesterday," one onlooker said, winking.

Most students were pointing the finger of blame at some engineering majors, citing the planning and expertise involved in the caper.

John Miner, a senior from Houston majoring in civil engineering, just rolled his eyes when asked if he knew the perpetrators.

"I think William Marsh Rice got mad because of the latest tuition increase and decided to turn his back on the administration," he joked.

(Lisa Gray offered an update on this story on its 20th anniversary.)



