"Miami Snark" a new genre of journalism.

Wishful Thinking by New Yorkers?

So, the whole "I hate Miami" refrain is a very popular meme among the New York journalism establishment.  Dating as far back as Time Magazine's seminal 1981 article "Paradise Lost" there has been a steady hope from New York writers that Miami just "fail".  Amazingly the "Magic City" does just the opposite.

 I want to start by  giving credit to Pamela Druckerman and the New York Times for spawning an entire sub-genre of journalism. Her 2014 article http://www.nytimes.com/2014/08/10/opinion/sunday/miami-grows-up-a-little-.html?_r=0  defines what I call "Miami Snark".  It works like this: basically a young reporter, almost exclusively female, comes to Miami Beach in the winter, drinks, sunbathes, drinks, shops and then gloriously proclaims that Miami and its 2.5 million residents as shallow pretenders. Writing that Miami doesn't deserve it's reputation for having great beaches, shopping and sunshine but should be more "cultural". They say they are looking for "depth", but not really.  I mean if they were looking for "depth" where are the interviews with at least one local leader. They could call Ruth Shack, Paul George, Edwina Danticat, the Estafans, Mitchell Kaplan just to name a few. If they wanted "depth" they would bring a Spanish translator and head on down to Domino Park or El Municipio de Santiago and chat with the old Cuban exiles. 

It is so wonderful for writers like New York Magazine's Jessica Pressler, to confuse all of Miami with what's happening a new millionaire's condo/resort on South Beach.  Or NYT's Brent Sokol's piece begrudging the gentrification of Little Haiti....A New Yorker criticizing gentrification......Didn't they invent and gentrify the whole concept of gentrification? He lives in New York, by writing in the NYT he takes a small local issue and elevates it to some kind of international crisis.  He didn't bother to mention that there are more Haitians in North Miami than in Little Haiti. 

I don't really understand the fascination and contempt people have for Miami.  No, it's not Boston and it's certainly not "New York with better weather".  As a 3rd generation Miamian I understand that. However, I don't read similar tropes about Kansas City, Atlanta or other cities of similar size.  I truly believe at it's core it has to do with envy, that there's a beautiful, glamorous city built and run by Latinos.  That its a city with an identity that doesn't compare itself to other places or feel intimidated by self important(albeit pasty) New Yorkers.   Most importantly, it is a city with deep cultural roots that can't be understood if you don't have an affinity for Latino culture or don't speak Spanish.  These aren't Margaret Mead types, they arrive here with preconceived notions, talk to some "local" on South Beach (apparently home to all our local intelligentsia) and make the determination its a cultural wasteland.  

A big part of me wants to say "just make an effort" to the Pamela Druckermans of the world. Figure the city out, get off the beach, talk to someone other than an out of town condo developer or South Beach waiter, or in Pamela's case: her mother.  Show some journalistic pride.  Because Miami Snark is really about willful ignorance and shallowness, things I'd least expect from people proclaiming to be "journalists." 

Cruising.....

Welcome Aboard, it's love, love love..........

So the term "cruising" can have many connotations, but in Miami its pretty well understood that the term refers to the to the ships, the cruise lines to be exact.  I just spent a week on one of them, Celebrity's Reflection.  I can say unequivocally that I had a fun time, However whenever I have cruised there is always an ambivalence about it. Here are some things that stood out:

The Frequent Cruisers: its hard not to miss the frequent cruisers. These are people who basically just given up and have decided that their leisure time and treasure will be entirely dedicated at sea. Like frequent flyers they achieve some kind of status points and have secret meetings on board with the captain and Isaac the Bartender.   If you're on your first cruise they will call you a "virgin" but in the most patronizing way.  The Frequent Cruisers basically stand around and complain how this cruise wasn't as good/long/expensive/exotic as their last cruise or the one before that.  They feel entitled to everything and refuse to leave the ship for shore excursions. Their whole existence revolves around staying on the ship and drinking. You tend not to see them during the day. They love "re-positioning" cruises.  Favorite hangout: Martini Bar. 

Condescension When You Ask About Connectivity:  Internet connectivity for us landlocked types is like our lifeblood.  Life is better with connectivity. Why? Because some key things occur when you're connected to the internet. 1. You can find people with ease. On a giant ship, you will not find who you are looking for by just "walking around". Complicated schedules have to kept in your head and meet up points and so on. 2. You can't truly win an argument without Wikipedia. 3. So much of our data is kept in the cloud, our music playlists, cameras and applications won't work well, rendering our devices almost useless.  However if you dare to complain, cruise personnel will act condescendingly and say "you can't even disconnect for a week?"  My response is "why should I?"  I mean the charges to connect are astronomical but as anybody knows there must be a cheaper solution.  Being connected is part of modern living....I can usually get connected in the most remote of places and minimal cost....but these floating cities feel that you are pitiable because you want to tell your friends on Facebook what a good time you're having. 

The Hordes: The ship is packed with people, there are hordes, it's like the Black Friday at the mall...everyday...all the time. The hordes are excited, the hordes are drunk, the hordes want your chair, your massage, your fitness bike. Prepare to deal with hordes. 

The cost. All things considered it's a bargain as far as vacations go. However there are a lot of hidden costs....drinks, excursions, exercise classes, specialty restaurants, spa treatments, etc. etc. all of these things add up considerably and  your wallet will lighten up to the point it becomes a flotation device. 

Finally, if you're from Miami you really don't need a tropical vacation.  

Cozumel? Jamaica? No, Miami

A GAY MIAMI SWIM TEAM. Yes, Nadadores of South Florida, Celebrating 20 years of Chlorination.

In this era of gay rights successes, marriage equality and openly gay Olympians why would Miami, or any city for that matter, need a gay Masters swim team.  I mean the landscape for LGBT men and women has changed so much that anyone of any orientation should be able to walk on a pool deck or beach and jump in. Why do you need a Gay Swim Team?

As Team Captain I'd like to say "you are truly welcome here!" We invite people of all swimming abilities from former Olympians to doggie paddlers.  Our program accommodates everyone. We welcome all body types, which is important, because too often I hear people staying away from swimming, or life, because they feel they don't look good in a bathing suit.  We strive for friendliness and camaraderie. You will not be a stranger with us!  

Firstly I'd like to thank John Roe and John Olsen for setting up the team 20 years ago. Mr. Roe was really quite understated about the foundation of the team and really just started it because he wanted to make his job more interesting at the Scott Rakow Youth Center in Miami Beach.   He was dealing with kids all day and thought adding an adult masters team would make things a bit interesting. Knowing other swimmers was helpful, but at the time South Beach was at it's gay peak and he advertised for swimmers in the personal sections of local gay magazines such as Hotspots and Wire. 

Guys showed up and a swim team was born. The name Nadadores was chosen because it reflected the diversity of South Florida and the team's slogan "Go Nads!" is a double entendre was not lost on anyone. Throughout the years the team has competed in international competition in Sydney, Copenhagen, Chicago, Paris, Reykjavik, Cologne and Cleveland.  Several members of the team compete nationally, Cory Welch  qualified for the past Olympic trials in breaststroke and is ranked 1 in the world in Masters breaststroke. 

Miami's bathing beauties....

What do we offer? We offer professional coaching, group and private swim lessons and a good time. Practices occur at an excellent swim facility or join us for our weekly ocean swim on Sundays. Please visit our website at http://www.nadadores.org/.

So how "gay" is our team. Well, is anything as gay as it used to be?  The team boasts a monthly roster of about 80 people. They hail from all over the world and the U.S.  Are they mostly gay? No, the days of us being exclusively gay are long gone. There are plenty of guys and gals on the team, but we don't ask, but if we find out we will tell. Couples have met on the team, and we have officially two marriages to our credit, one straight, one gay.

Having fun in this year's suits!

So getting back to the original premise of the "why" for a "gay" swim team.  Truthfully we could say it's about needing a safe space, or a comfort zone, or a "birds of a feather" experience.  However as LGBT community becomes more integrated, the need for such things is fading away.  What is needed however is a group of people can share a passion for something outside of themselves. To spend an hour submerged splashing around, burning an amazing amount of calories with really nice people. That's what the Nadadores of South Florida is about. It's about fun, fitness and competition. 

NO MATTER WHAT YOUR SWIMMING ABILITY, YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN US.

Come celebrate 20 years of fun with us a Noche Nadadores!  Thank you Miami for making us a success!

Materialistic Miami

So recently I've become intrigued with connection between Miami and materialism.   A recent perusal of my own past blog posts do allude to a certain "shallowness" that epitomizes my hometown. So I decided to do some casual research, talk to friends, ask strangers, internet searches to shed some light on this opinion that people have about us. So here is what I found.

Firstly I asked people if they thought Miami was "materialistic" if they agreed, if yes then why. 

Most of my female friends said Miami was materialistic because the Latina girls look at you weird if you don't wear makeup and look nice. One anglo friend stated "it's like I have to wear shoes and lipstick just to go to work, I want to be judged by my mind" I didn't have the heart to tell her that her mind would be much more appreciated if she tried to make the case it came in look better. On the internet I read a few similar complaints by women as well. The pressure to "look nice" was considered "shallow." and "difficult."  

So here's my take. I just spent a week working in Indianapolis. I work in the medical field selling to nurses. I can say without a doubt the term "sexy nurse" has not reached Indianapolis yet. In offices where I went "business casual" gave up the "business" side of casual in 1987 and died there. I also saw the worst hair I've ever seen. I can say people in Indy were not "shallow" because, at first glance, they really didn't care much about their appearance, or perhaps they did and "disheveled" was the look.  Zoolander's "Derilicte" came to mind. However, if looking your best is "shallow" and looking like an extra from "Rosanne" is "not shallow" I think I prefer shallow.  Of course appearance should be accompanied by a nice purse, shoes and outfits.....so for women, Miami is a forcefully shallow place.

I often forget: looking your best often = shallow = bad person.   Being disheveled and plain = non-shallow = good person. Therefore Miami is full of bad, shallow people. Indianapolis is not shallow, because appearances don't matter as much? Hence it and its environs are full of deep, thoughtful people. 

For men Miami materialism is also linked to appearance and that giant extension of ones penis: your vehicle. Miami has a car culture for sure. According to Forbes magazine 14% of all vehicles purchased in Miami were considered "luxury" vehicles. By comparison, Los Angeles and New York had luxury purchase rates of 12% and 11% respectively. This is compounded by the fact that Miami's median income is about $5,000 less than either city.  So driving a nice car is a priority in Miami.  I have lot of theories for that, firstly a lot of young Latino professionals stay home till they're married, so buying the Beemer for $200 more a month is no big deal if you're not planning to pay rent until you're in your mid 30s.  This trend is not limited to men of course, but once you've driven a luxury car for awhile its hard to go back to a Corolla. (Full disclosure: I have two BMWs) I don't consider myself "shallow" I just love cars. However if my car preferences undo all the good things I've done, so be it.

I could ponder about our "materialism" wondering perhaps that a playground of the rich and famous might have something to do with it, or perhaps the deprivation of luxury vehicles in Latin America (too conspicuous, bad roads, extremely high import duties). Perhaps just a cultural norm to look your best in any occasion, maybe we just want to feel sexy(shallow?) all the time.  I am sure there a lot of factors related to class, culture, ethnic background that make Miamians want to strut like all the feral Peacocks that wander the metropolis. I can see how "looking your best, as much as possible" would intimidate people who feel that first impressions or optimal grooming aren't important.

Looking good might be shallow. Driving a nice car might be materialistic. However in hot climate like Miami's would you really want it any other way? Really, if you want to look ironically plain or unkempt go to Brooklyn or Portland. At least there you can cover it all with a coat and a scarf or something. But don't come here complaining that you "need to look good" to make it here, because yes, that is one of our social norms. You might call it shallow, we call it good grooming.

Anchor Babies, Kiev, Dog Parks, Caracas, Learn Spanish

So it's been an interesting few weeks in global affairs. Apparently the cold-war restarted, and Venezuela is in some kind of melt-down.  It's in this now interconnected world it plays out in my personal life and even at my local dog park.

Let's take, for example, the problems in Ukraine.  You would think that an uprising so far away would have small ripples in balmy South Florida.   My hubby works for a company based behind the Iron Curtain. (I'm going to just use Cold War terms from here on out.)  His boss makes a mysterious trip to "check out" the South Florida office. An office with just six employees.  A very small branch office of a large multinational company.  Every one is in a fuss....nobody knows why he's coming.  They invite him and his wife out to dinner......she shows up with her 10 day old baby.....her ten day old "anchor" baby.  They are proud parents of an American citizen.  She proceeds to tell us how all her friends back home use a large network of hospitals and doctors that cater well-to-do Eastern Europeans who want their babies born in the U.S.  I was wondering if recent events might alter her very sunny maternity in Sunny Isles along with all her well-to-do Soviet moms that are busily hatching new ties to the west everyday. What surprised me more was the matter-of-fact way it was presented. It is as if she was saying: "Of course my baby will be born in the West, really, do you think I want  to live my life out in that gulag we call a country?"

So yesterday I'm at the lovely Legion Park on Biscayne Bay.  The nice winter weather and my new puppy are what draws me there. I'm chatting with some fellow native English speakers. My neighborhood is very eclectic but weirdly, it's not dominated by Spanish speakers like many other parts of Miami are.  We are having a pleasant conversation, playing fetch with our dogs and enjoying the nice weather as they romp across an open field. A family of Venezuelans greet us everyday and play with the dogs. They don't speak any English. I chat with her in Spanish and ask a few questions about the situation in Caracas and how things are. "Your friends should learn Spanish, she said to me."

"How long have you lived here?" I asked in Spanish.

"Three months, but your friends should rally learn Spanish so they can communicate." She replied.

"So you're not going back?" I asked. 

"No, I've got my immigration status settled here and the kids are in school, we've left our lives back in Venezuela and are starting over here. Besides all my friends are here now and most of my family are on the way.Your friends should learn to speak Spanish." she insisted. 

I can't help but feel a little used as an American. I'm not sure how middle-class immigrants view the American dream when they are arriving to luxury waterfront condos and paying for expensive maternity care out of pocket. I can't wonder how invested anyone can be in a place when they "made it" somewhere else and just picked up and plopped down and started demanding that everyone learn their customs and language as the bourgeoisie are wont to do. Really, do you demand that a bunch of people in a park learn to speak to you, in a foreign tongue when you've only been here three months? 

Miami's "Walking" Neighborhoods

After my stint raising a kid in suburbia, I promised myself I would move back into "town" to a neighborhood where I could walk to stores, restaurants and parks.  A neighborhood that had a "street life" that went beyond retail, that included a pedestrian culture of strollers, dog walkers, bicyclists, joggers and the like.  A place near parks and landmarks.  Miami, until recently, has very few neighborhoods that fit that description. Thankfully that is quickly changing. There was a time where these neighborhoods were so few, that developers, investors and retailers were quick to overdevelop them and destroy their original character.

 

Coconut Grove: Perhaps Miami's original "walking" neighborhood.  Once known as a funky hang-out for hippies, bohemians and Bahamians the area was famous for its bars like the Hungry Sailor.  UM students would hang out and party. Then it developed into a nightlife scene and was overrun with shopping centers and hotels. The scene died with the arrival of South Beach and there are a lot of empty storefronts.

 

Still, it is one of the most beautiful neighborhoods in Miami. Located in a hardwood hammock along Miami's "silver bluff" oolitic limestone ridge, "the grove" gives that hot tropical vibe that is Miami. Shrouded in live oaks with lianas creeping up them you get the feeling of a village ensconced in jungle greenery.  The dense tree canopy filters the sun onto the sidewalks giving you respite in the shade on hot summer days. There are still great eateries and hangouts in the business district. A walk from Miami's City Hall along the Marina and Peacock part and the historical Barnacle state park makes for a pleasant afternoon stroll.

 

 

South Beach: There are very few places in the world where you can live, work and play within blocks of each other. South Beach is truly one of the best "walking" neighborhoods in the world. The efforts of the preservationists were rewarded and the Art Deco District showed that lovely old neighborhoods can pay off a lot more than tearing everything down and putting up maga-casinos. In the 80's South Miami Beach was slated for the same treatment as Atlantic City. A few visionaries saved the Art-Deco buildings from demolition and South Beach was born.

 

South Beach has done a good job of preserving the old character of the area, however you can see where developers are anxious to capitalize on it with huge retail and condo developments all around it. Some of it is good, some of it is schlock all of it increases an already crowded area with more people. But again, a long walk from South Point Park to Lincoln Road will put you through beautiful beaches, parks and people.  Art Deco buildings punctuate the landscape like so many pastel cupcakes.

 

 

Newer "Walking Neighborhoods" in Miami:

 

Wynwood:  Wynwood originally was a small Puerto Rican barrio and warehouse district. It is proof that art can change an entire neighborhood. Punctuated with galleries and restaurants, the area is crawling with hipsters and bohemians anxious to see the latest art offerings, murals and restaurants.

 

Mimo District: MiMo, for Miami Modern, district was a run down area north of downtown. Once known more for it's hookers than for it's architecture the area is close to being defined as "gentrified" other than "gentrifying".  Strong neighborhood associations in Belle Meade and Morningside have managed to keep most developers at bay by demanding height restrictions on new buildings.  (3 stories only)  Still the area is bustling with several top notch restaurants and a rapid increase in diverse retail especially apparel and furniture.

 

Design district/Midtown: Mostly an area known for retail, there a few quaint neighborhoods along the periphery.  Developers have recently demolished a lot in favor of uber-high-end retail like Prada  and a Wal-Mart. Why not? It's Miami.

 

Mary Brickell Village: Once a quaint collection of restaurants adjacent to Miami's financial center, a massive influx of high rise buildings and Argentinians give the area the feeling of a Buenos Aires with palm trees and tropical forests. Here the sing-song Spanish of the porteño is heard more often than the rapid fire Cuban. Still it's very much a newly developed shopping area catering to yuppies that have moved into the newly built high rise condos nearby.....good food and eye candy, but lacking in charm.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Climate-Change Journalists Absolutely Giddy About Miami's Destruction. (and just about everyone else)

Please pick me up a cafecito while you're there....

Rolling Stone Magazine's recent article, Goodbye Miami by Jeff Godell was positively gleeful about Miami's inundation due to global warming.  "an American Atlantis", "a great future dive spot" were some of the kinder words he used in the article. He also quoted a "local politician" who told him that "God promised no more floods, read the story of Noah." http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/why-the-city-of-miami-is-doomed-to-drown-20130620 I doubt seriously that a City of Miami or Miami-Dade County commissioner would quote scripture so I guess he spoke to someone in Medley or Homestead. His article, albeit science fiction presents Miami's inundation as a fait acompli.

 

Clearly, Miami has no shortage of haters. Interesting timing of the article being released just after our NBA Championship win, I would not be surprised if the author was from Cleveland or San Antonio. I wouldn't be surprised if Cleveland was pumping extra carbon emissions into the atmosphere specifically to inundate Miami. As usual the comments section was filled with unrequited hate from people who once lived here. Consistently Miami is held up as an example of a "future Atlantis" because of rising seas.

 

What I don't understand, if for example, the seas rise 10, 15, or 100 feet, they never use any other city "at risk" for inundation. I mean San Diego, Long Beach, New York, Washington DC, London, Nagoya, Sydney, Dubai, Wellington, Athens to a greater or lesser degree will be affected. However, I never feel the schadenfreude in global warming articles unless they include Miami. One article suggested Mumbai would have a similar fate, but felt really bad for the poor people there. No such compassion was shared for one of the poorest, albeit fabulous, cities in the U.S.

Yeah, and we're still here, better than ever!

 

As a native Miamian I have experienced my share of disasters both natural and man-made, including Andrew and the Overtown riots. I have watched time and time again when the rest of America and world have written off the Magic City. A, gleeful hope that a city dominated and built by a successful prosperous Hispanic middle class will somehow go away. Miami is glamorous, Miami is beautiful, warm and sexy. It is a global center of trade, fashion, culture and finance. Miami is the stick in the eye to all those people who think anything touched by the Latino community is second-rate, ugly, and not worthy of attention.

 

Whether we are an underwater Atlantis or the great regional capital that Atlantis was prior to its disappearance, you can look around. Our city is absolutely gorgeous. Brickell, Biscayne, Venetian Causeway. Our new Museums, opera houses, concert halls show that our city is finally realizing its fantastic potential in a way that's unapologetic and grand.  We are not a town that nods to New York or LA for it's identity. We are not going to just sit by and let this wonderful town, this Magic City, wash away like some sand castle. If we do, we'll be in the company of most of the great coastal cities of the world.

 

 

 

Miami, Always Trying to Keep It Classy.

A couple of years ago Miami was voted 2nd rudest city in America.  Working from home I don't always get the chance to fully embrace my own Miami bubble that basically disregards all else except my immediate gratification.   So last night I went to the Arsht, Miami's spectacular performing arts center.  The show was typical "Broadway Across America" and it truth, it wasn't bad. Gratefully, it wasn't the usual inane "family fare" that forced me to stay away for so many years. I mean how many times can one see Judy Taymore's Lion King? But I digress, I'm really here to talk about the patrons.

 

In particular, I'm talking about cell phone usage. Recently, at a movie theater in Broward, there was an announcement that said people who use cell phones will be removed from the theater. Hurray!  I know people might think it's common courtesy not to text, play Bejewelled, or actually answer the phone while at a show.  In Miami, it's a birthright to do these things at any time during the show....for long periods of time.

 

The tickets were expensive, so I'm sure that gives people the right to answer the phones. Like "hey, I paid for these seats, I'll do whatever I want while I'm here." It's Miami. It's not like anyone here is going to do anything about it anyway. The thinking is that maybe if you let your neighbor do it, you get a free pass sometime later in the show to do it yourself.

 

Now, imagine the baby is an iPhone

I had scored some amazing box seats for the show, just above the stage, set back a bit. Sadly, there was a woman(actually many people) who through the entire show had her cell phone on. Non-stop. I'm sure she was doing important things....closing deals, gossiping, sharing recipes and winning Words With Friends and getting high scores on Bejewelled.  I'm sure her Facebook postings were riveting. What was funny is that she was hunched over trying to create a light proof "phone bubble" made of elbows, cupped hands and her breasts.  Kind of the way a mother might huddle over her baby during a lion attack.

 

Yes, I care...no I really don't

So Intermission came and I heard several people talking to the ushers asking them to do something about it.  You got the typical Miami usher half-smile shrug that says: sorry rich guy, I don't speak English and I would do something about it, but I am a part-time minimum wage employee and I don't really care. Then the usher would go back to texting.

 

So during intermission I confronted the "phone bubble" lady. Her husband was with her.  I asked her to stop using her phone....not nicely...because I am a native of the 2nd rudest city in America.  I know from experience that the white guy saying politely"please don't use your phone" is the equivalent of asking a dog not to pee on the fencepost.  So I raised my voice and made sure that everyone around could hear: "YOU WERE USING YOUR PHONE THROUGH THE ENTIRE SHOW".

 

The couple's response "Well the guy next to us was texting too."  REALLY? That was their defense. Not even a denial.  So fucking lame.  Of course, they were ready to engage me in an argument...and believe me I was ready....but it was a night out at the show and I did not want to be ejected for "rudeness".  I was just keeping it classy, you know.

 

Very little phone usage in the theater after my outburst. That was classy too.

 

Please Don't Go!!! The Heartache of Being Miamian

People often tell me it's hard to make friends in Miami, I might tend to agree.  One of the greatest heartaches about living here is that people move.  So as a Miamians we tend to guard our hearts to the newcomers. You see the newbies, with their Spanish phrase books and their fresh Midwestern corn fed faces.  Agonizing at the Publix Deli and trying to order in English.  Only to have Spanish spit back at them at a rapid fire pace.

Rubia in a "baja y chupa"

You see them in gatherings in the break room, smiling in a clueless way as the girls laugh at the receptionist's Casual Friday outfit that includes skinny jeans and a "baja y chupa"*.   They grin politely after the business meeting is over and all of a sudden the English stops and the Spanish begins, feeling very, very left out. But over time they learn about "pastelitos" and the 3:00PM colada.  The Spanish chatter ceases to bother them and they even learn a few key phrases to drop to make their colleagues laugh.  They're beginning to settle in, maybe even like the exotic.

Of course, we all know as Miamians that fresh faces, and blue eyes are in short supply. So if the person is single....they fall in love with their first Latino...or Cuban.  The whirlwind passion, the great kisses, the great sex, the parents in Westchester....Miami bliss. At last the Miami honeymoon has begun. If you have blue(light) eyes you start getting introduced as "rubio" or "rubia" which literally means "blond".  

Then the heartbreak. He cheats, she cheats, he stops calling, she went to back to her ex named Jorge.  Then then that Midwesterner becomes bitter, and every word in Spanish reminds him or her about that hot Latin lover. The Publix deli lady rubs salt in the wound that they never really did understand a word of Spanish and then, fuck it. They leave Miami.  

The other scenario is that they can't find a job because they can't speak Spanish, regardless of superior educational background or experience.   

Adios Miami!!! Goin' back to USA!

In either case we are left here, Miamians, as our friends leave broke or heartbroken, but more fabulous for the experience. 

Sorry guys, we'll miss you.  

* strapless halter top (literal translation: drop and suck)

Miami Geography: Being Here Changes You.

You know the study of geography is more than just maps. It's about human interactions with the lands they live on. Where you live changes you. Living in Miami changes you a LOT. From your clothes, to how you work and how you relate with others. Since we're talking about local geography, let's define it. When we talk about Miami we mean Miami-Dade County.  No, I'm sorry Hollywood, Hallandale, North Key Largo do not count. I also mean the "unique" communities of Coral Gables, Aventura and Hialeah, they are Miamians even though they may not want to be, or some of us would prefer they were in another county.  I know some people as far north as Ft. Lauderdale might say they're "Miami", but that would be unfair, since they're in a whole other country. 

"So sorry I'm late, it was just too hot outside"

I know when I'm in Miami I feel sexier, more confident, less motivated to work, because I'm so confident and sexy. I mean I only need to "look" successful which in turn means I "could" be successful but you won't know, because in Miami few people talk about their work.  I often wonder about all the material success I see around me: expensive cars, houses and boats, but I don't really see an economy that can sustain that wealth.  Where do all those people in Mercedes Benzes and Beemers go every morning to make money? 

One of the first things that happens here is that "it's hot so I need to be 15minutes or five hours late." The heat excuses everything. Like a harsh northern blizzard, the heat makes it impossible to ever be on time. I notice this is the first thing to change in the newcomers, punctuality. Miami is where punctuality comes to die.  The heat is like this barrier to quickness, like stepping in molasses while wearing sandals; no....energy.....to....be...on...time.....! 

These bright, tight clothes are so Miami!

Miami changes your style. The first thing you notice is snatches of color entering your wardrobe. Reds and blues at first, bright orange, then finally lilacs and purples. Tropical colors and nobody looks twice, not an eyebrow raised.....could fuchsia be right around the corner? Tightness? Yes tightness. Tight clothes are more comfortable in the heat. They wick away the sweat from your body and dry quickly in the air conditioning. Loose shirts and blouses sag all day with the sweat and humidity, fitted clothes still look okay at the end of the day.  Next thing you know, you're visiting your WASPY parents in Wisconsin wearing those "revealing" clothes. You're thinking "cool"(style and temperature wise), Northerners are thinking "slut or whore".

as many times as we've made love...

What else changes?  You feel sexy around sexy people in a sexy locale. If you're young and single you become sluttier, if you're older you're just hornier.   The hot sultry nights require hot sultry company. Sweating and dancing to tropical music, with cold drinks just makes you want to be naked, make love....then jump into a cold shower, pool or ocean.  I've never felt sexy after a day in a snowstorm....but after a day at the beach, or on the boat....I can hear Barry White now. 

I love Miami.......

Afro-Cuban deities are swirling all around you and you don't even realize it.

So I am sitting in the office of a potential client and a casually look at shelf above the cubicle and notice two little statues and a wine glass half filled with water.  Now it would be disingenuous of me to to say I didn't recognize Santeria when I saw it. While I was not entirely clear whether I was looking at Santa Barbara(Chango) or La Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre(Ochun), what was weird was that I found it completely normal to see these deities in their Catholic disguises. Just chalk it up to another day in Miami. 

As you live and work in Miami there are small signs of Santeria everywhere. Last night at the gas station in Coral Gables, I saw man dressed entirely in white linen. Young, handsome, Latino, stylish? No. Not stylish but a Santero in a new Lexus celebrating the summer solstice. How could I tell? Stylish guys can wear all white....but the white shoes will always give a Santero away. The rule my grandma said about white shoes: no matter what outfit you wear them with, even naked, all they'll remember are the white shoes. 

Do NOT Eat, it's for Ochun!

You can breezily live in Miami and not see the signs of Santeria everywhere: walk along almost any sea wall along Biscayne Bay and look into the shallows. Chances are you'll offerings to the saints in the form of plates, filled with coins, candles, and silverware. By Mercy Hospital it looks like the china set of the Andrea Doria washed ashore, along with the coins from the penny arcade. I've been tempted to refill my coffers with the money offered to the saint since the money is cast directly behind the Ermita De La Caridad del Cobre, 3609 S. Miami Ave. She is the patron saint of Cuba and another guise for Ochun: the Yoruba Lady of Love, Beauty, and Sexuality, and Spirit of Fresh Water.

These are not paperweights.

There are little rituals you may notice: a dead chicken with candles on a sidewalk in Coral Gables, a person sprinkling rum and blowing cigar smoke in a new accounting office on Brickell or an 8 foot statue of San Lazaro (Babaluaye) in the foyer of a McMansion in Doral.  In Miami you see these things, process them and move along.  Initially, when I took my son for a sleepover at house mentioned above, I mentioned to my husband, "how sweet, they have a statue of Joseph in the entryway. They must be good Catholics." I got a kick in the shin and the sleepover ended at 11PM. 

In any case, we Miamians are often accused of superficiality. That we are a city of "bad values" raising up material goods above those of the soul. That we are city of sinners and sexual libertines. That god wears Gucci here. But I can guarantee, in many corners of our homes, offices and public spaces the Yoruba gods are watching over us. They are Miamians and blessing us with beauty, sunshine, love and happiness. 

"Tio, mira ese carro loco" (Uncle, look at the crazy car)

The first time I took my nephew for a ride in my new car he screamed from his window: "mira ese carro loco" or "look at the crazy car."  He was actually describing the Chevy Impala parked on the side of the old Police Museum building on Biscayne.  I just figured he was talking about all the carro locos that I see whenever I drive around Miami.  

Now I can say without hesitation that Miami has a car culture.  To a large extent you are saying a lot about who you are by what you drive. As we all know, us Miamians are not exactly about "understatement".  As self-centered as we are, we know that opening the door of that late model import says, "ago ergo sum" I drive, therefore I am.  In Miami it's more like: "ago carus pretiosa, ego sum melius quam." Which I believe using internet translations means:" I drive an expensive car therefore I am better than you."

Aside from any car snobbery.....or car affinity that Miamians may have, we still have developed a distinct driving style that tests patience, challenges souls and has an outcome that would be respected by those participating in the hunger games. Local driving is not for the feint of heart. I thought I'd add some simple guidelines for newcomers and new drivers. A Miami driving style, not unlike it's cooking, influenced by a hint Argentinian arrogance, heavy dollops of Cuban can-do and dash of Haitian frustration, pour it over some Anglo repression and you have what I call a wonderful driving South Florida souffle. 

Let me start with turn signals. Don't.  Why would you want anyone to know ahead of time what you plan on doing? Would you tell a thief the combination to your safe?  No. Would you tell someone in poker what's in your hand? So why would you tell another driver that you are about to take away the real estate right in front of them?  Signals are your way of announcing what you are doing, now.  Like when a small kid goes to the bathroom....I'm pooping NOW...in front of you.  The job of the other driver is to react through resignation, rage, slamming on brakes, horn, what have you. Blinkers in Miami are your way of saying "I win!"  Not like in other cities where blinkers say in wimp language "can you please let me in?"  

Licence and registration please.

Speed. To be honest,  I don't know one person who has gotten a speeding ticket on 95 in Miami-Dade, ever.  I've seen some pretty cool car races, spectacular accidents, but never seen a car ever pulled over anywhere on I95. Please speak up if any of you have. So to me it means that it's basically a stretch of highway that has been ceded over to the lawless masses. A stretch of road in poor repair except for the "luxo-lanes" that rich white people use to get from the Broward County Line to Downtown without having to share the lanes with the rest of us folks who may have a residence or business in areas between downtown and the county line. There are four places in Miami-Dade where you will get definitely get speeding tickets: Virginia Gardens....only fools speed on 36th street between 63rd & 67th avenues. Second is the town of Medley(hamlet of) the two police officers are waiting for you just off that bridge that crosses from Okeechobee Blvd. How a trailer park actually became a town is a mystery to me. Bal Harbor: speed or ride a bike on the sidewalk at your own peril. Any school zone in Miami Dade. Yeah the school zones are where the cops get that "speeding quota" that they claim they don't have. Otherwise speed at will.

Most annoying driving thing to me: the abuelita en la Corolla. I am sure the Toyota Corolla is a great car, however every abuelita or Haitian granmè drives one.  The Haitian one will be white. Haitians as a rule only drive white cars or vans, and typically they drive very, very, very, very slow....with their hazard lights on. 

And that brings me to point of hazard lights. They are for hazards, like when you break down in the middle of the street and you're too lazy to wave down someone to push your vehicle three feet so it's out of traffic. You don't need put them on when it rains, you shoulds put your lights on when it rains.  Hazard lights are good when you're pulled over, not for driving on a busy interstate at 15 miles an hour in a torrential summer storm. Hazard lights won't help you when the semi, who is driving sixty, slams into your rear, hazard lights or no. 

So go out there fellow "carros locos". Miami roads are calling. Honk, speed, cut off, curse...because we are free creatures on the roads (except on the 836 in Sweetwater around the first of the month, FHP quota time). Tickets? Who cares, there's the Ticket Clinic!  We are city of refugees....who by nature are people on the move, spirits fleeing tyranny, seeking liberty, drive Miami, drive! Ago Ergo Sum!

So Your Neighbor is a Drug Dealer? That's so Miami.

So your neighbor is a drug dealer? That's so Miami.  I can honestly say that throughout my life in Miami I've always had at least one neighbor that was a drug dealer. Whether I was rooming in a chic Brickell Ave Condo, wealthy gated community bliss in Doral, starter condo in Fountainbleu Park, South Beach or the trendy Miami Mimo district; the one constant was the neighborhood drug dealer.

I can also say with certainty that if you live in Miami it generally means a cocaine dealer. However on South Beach "club drugs" were more popular. Run of the mill pot-dealers are a much rarer breed.  I've heard that having a pot dealer as a neighbor is not cool because of the smell. So I guess pill-peddlers and coke dealers are a bit "classier". However drugs are pervasive in Miami and I guess they are a mixed blessing which I learned a few years ago when I attended meetings of the South Florida Methamphetamine Task force. That's when the presenter stated: 

"Cocaine is so ingrained in Miami culture, that it has served as a prophylaxis against the national meth epidemic in that city." 

Who would've thought? Cocaine saved Miami from meth. Maybe our city's tagline should read: Miami: come for the coke, leave with all your teeth. 

So, getting back to dealing with your neighborhood dealer. How do you know your neighbor is dealing? There are few simple clues.

Firstly, the vast majority of drug dealers are male and under 40.  They tend to live alone or with other males in the house. They are usually very attractive. Think "sexy bad boy" and you've pegged about three quarters of all the drug dealers in Miami-Dade.  Think, if I brought this one home.....damn,  are my parents going to be pissed.  I don't know what it is about about the drug trade, but being hot and buffed is part of the job requirement. Perhaps the drug cartels require head shots and full body stats for all potential candidates. More likely, they spent a lot of time in the prison gym. It's called "jailhouse hot" for a reason. 

                (Real drug dealers: You think they're pretty now, just wait till they get out of jail)

Secondly, they tend to wear a lot of jewelry. Rolex watches, Gucci bracelets, tacky, chunky jewelry. This, to me is the downside of the drug trade, is the tackiness of it all. Expensive cars too, are part of the whole package. I guess you need to be mobile, so pawning that 24 carat "nugget" style ring when you need to post bail can be useful. 

Thirdly, they're almost always renters. Now I know how we condo owners feel about renters, and I believe drug dealers have given renters a bad name.  Why? Because drug dealers don't take care of the property. They roll down the shades, don't mow the grass and have a steady stream of people knocking on their door 24 hours a day.  It makes condo owners cringe, when they learn there is a single male tenant in the building under the age of 40 who drives an Aston Martin when most of us are driving Fords.  Once you see the gold chains and the bulge at the waistband....you know it's too late....it's probably a drug dealer. Under 40, male and a pair of capri pants....gay. (hence better property values.)

Now you may think you can escape this scourge by moving to a gated or "restricted" community. Wrong. Doormen, security guards, security services are easily corrupted and quickly become "lookouts" for the drug dealer. So unless you tip your building or community staff really well (as much as the drug dealer) gated communities are no real solution.

Can you call the police? Yes, but don't expect much help, and you don't want to hurt your property values by having a major (or minor) drug bust nearby. Also, the drug dealer will know it was you who dropped the dime; remember.... he knows where you live. 

What's the best way to deal with them? Be nice. Get to know them. Ask them about their lives. Invite them over. Sit on your lawn and wave to all the "clients" who knock on the door. Stand nearby and say hello to them as they come and go to buy their drugs. Engage them in conversation. Walk your dog in front at 3AM. Always be floating around. Remember Mrs. Kravits? She had Samantha and Darren scared out of their minds that they might discover that there was witchcraft in the neighborhood. I am sure there were no drug dealers in her neighborhood either. Finally, say nicely "I know you have a lot of friends dropping by at all hours, and the neighbors are starting to take notice."  This has worked for me twice....the drug dealer usually stops dealing from the house or moves away....whichever happens, it's a victory. 

Miami Manners - a Primer

In a city as polyglot as Miami sometimes what one group might consider "rude" may be just misinterpretation of another group's social standards. For example in some cultures good service means a "chatty" server that has a lot  of "flair" (minimum: 15 pieces) in another, the waiter efficiently takes an order and delivers food and removes plates in a very unobtrusive way. Yet in others, surly servers toss your plate at you and give you the stink eye and then expect a tip. 

In social settings different cultures have different concepts of "time" and "time" changes if its business or social.  Driving habits vary across cultures as well.  In some places driving is a community activity where everyone efficiently gets to where they want to go, or Miami where even the shortest drive is really a test of intelligence, guile and cojones. 

Since I am a product of two distinct cultures, Anglo and Latino, and have spent many years in Miami I thought I'd give some pointers that may help everyone understand each other.

1. Time. I could go on about time, especially since they changed the clocks this week, but I want everyone to be clear on what we mean by time in Miami.

     a. On-time Anglo: On-time to an Anglo means 5 to 10 minutes early.  There is no difference between "social" time or "business" time.

     b. On-Time Latino: On time for Latinos has many nuances. Latin business time is usually on-time if you arrive within 30 minutes of a scheduled appointment. Latin social time: there is no guarantee that any Latino will stick to any kind of social appointment time, with the possible exception of weddings and baptisms.

So if you're having a dinner party....you say "dinner will be served at 8:30 Anglo time." most Miamians will respect that. However, Argentines will arrive at 8:30 and refuse to eat till 1AM. 

2. Invitations and RSVPs:  Expecting RSVPs for a dinner, event or party in Miami is like trying to catch moths without a flashlight:  You know as soon as you turn on the light they'll come but you never know how many will show.  Thank you cards are not a very Latino custom, but calling the next day to say how you got drunk and laid, or any good gossip acquired at a their party is the best kind of thank you any host would be happy to have.

3. Cheek kissing and lip kissing. In Miami its customary for men and women (and gay men) to kiss each other on the cheek as a greeting or farewell.  Lip kissing to me is creepy, and I usually turn to avoid the lips. This is not considered rude. Brazilians kiss on both cheeks, left to right.   When in doubt, shake hands.  Anglo people prefer a nice firm handshake, brief if possible. Argentinian men kiss everyone, they are not all gay. 

4. Speaking a language that not everyone understands. It's perfectly acceptable in Miami to speak your native tongue. However it is perfectly acceptable for a non-speaker to ask for a translation, and even demand the nuance and context of any obscure Cuban saying. Simply because they're usually pretty funny in English too.

5. It's perfectly fine to speak loud in Miami. Whether on a cell phone, in English, Spanish it's okay, just let it out. Passion is fine, even if it's just asking your husband where the pickles are in Publix.  You are your own world and nothing else matters but you. 

6. Children: children are meant to be seen and heard in Miami. Not unusual to see four-year-olds out partying with their parents at 1AM.  If this bothers you, and it should, there's nothing you can do. 

7. Appearance. In Miami you are expected to look your best at all times. Not thin mind you, just look as if you put some effort into "your look". You must be clean, all over. Cubans are extremely peste-phobic. Do not have peste!!! (peste to Miamians means stink)

8. Feel free to ask anyone about their background, in Miami it's okay to ask someone where they're from. It's not okay to ask them their immigration status, regardless of how wealthy they may seem. 

9. Miamians generally do not have a "resume fetish" like New York, LA or DC.  In social situations most people don't talk about work unless you are close.  Avoid talking about work in general, it's considered a bit rude. 

10. Safe topics: Your favorite Cuban restaurant, trips to Spain, real estate, weather, clubs, reality TV and local festivals. Miami is not really a sports town unless one of the teams is winning....

So there you have it, a few hints to make your life in Miami just a bit simpler. 

At some point I'll do a blog about driving in Miami. 

Second City Syndrome (some more queer geography too)

Due to work I've been traveling across my fantastic State of Florida.  To quote a Presidential candidate: "I love it here, the trees.....are all the right height...and the lakes, the lakes..."  So I guess you get my point.  But despite all my travels I'm always happy to be back in Miami, but because I realize I carry a "Miaminess" wherever I go.

This month I went from Bushnell (where I took my Obama magnet off the Beemer) to Orlando and most areas on the East and Gulf coasts of Florida.  While I try to be as humble and down to earth as possible, I still get the feeling they're looking at me as some kind of "city slicker".  Perhaps it's my suit and tie or my fancy Cole-Haan Veneto pennys.

I realize now that all these people have what I call "Second City" syndrome. Second City Syndrome is the full knowledge that although your city has all the ingredients that make up a "city" such as population, a performing arts center, professional sports teams, there still is something missing. That maybe a new stadium,  mall or  In my opinion there is just a hint of vitality missing.  There just is that one missing ingredient that turns a city from Kansas City bland to New Orleans wow. 

My first realization that I'm in a second city is when the gay people say things to me like "you're awfully gay, maybe you should live in Los Angeles or New York or Miami". Which says to me that "fabulosity is not welcome here."  The uniform is khakis and a button down collar, maybe a polo. Nikes are fine, but you can leave the John Varvatos Sid Oxfords for your once yearly trip to New York. Make out in the Camryaccord, that is unless you're a lesbian, then use a truck.  Second cities also have very integrated gay and lesbian communities and both groups hang out and do things together, so you don't know if you're in a gay bar or a church social.  I've also noticed that gay communities in second cities tend to be run by lesbians (albeit funded by gay men).   Larger cities tend to have very defined and separate gay and lesbian communities. 

Don't get me wrong, having the nice Florida executive home on the golf course in a development with a name like Willowbrooke is a wonderful, peaceful life but it's just not for me.  I mean getting excited over the menu at Longhorn Steakhouse or Macaroni Grill is typical for a night out in some of these places. Please remember the drink specials end at 8:30 and try to be home by 10PM on a Saturday night. That a weekend getaway to New York, New Orleans or Miami is enough excitement to get you through the next few months.  

I guess my true rant about these places is that I don't fit in. That somehow, outside of a few major cities I cannot relate to a typical middle class American life.  That my experiences in the vast stretches suburbia have been full of a quiet angry ennui. That my soul needs to be fed by strange people from far away lands, and new foods never tried before. That I can't stand the idea of eating in a chain restaurant that isn't a McDonald's. I mean Carraba's, really? That rushing home every evening to catch a glimpse of reality TV somehow softens my own reality. I can't fit in, I can't wear khakis, I can't be khaki.  I feel exotic, I feel colorful, I feel Miamian.

Strip Club Etiquette for Ladies

My whole life I've been watching characters "decompress" at strip clubs. Whether it was Al Bundy at the "nudie bar" or the guys from office dramas, or even guys on the lam, the strip club was a darkened haven of manliness in a sea of rampant femininity.  Bored, the dancers would writhe on the stage or pole as the men stared blankly and vaguely aroused.  I mean strip clubs tend to be subdued affairs where men chat idly, sip booze, and give sullen whoops as they put cash in the dancers' g-strings.    This had always been my experience in strip clubs whether they were straight or gay. 

This is quite a different experience from the way women behave at events where male strippers perform. There is shrieking, clawing, guffawing and just crazy fun at the sight of a hot man gyrating his pelvis at her. You would think that the girl has never seen a man in the nude before.  I've always been curious at the female tendency to scream when she sees a naked man, is it a biological imperative? I mean is it like a "fight or flight" response? What is it about the male anatomy that makes women squeal followed up by a giggle. I remember this response in middle school when I flashed some girls, it seems after the first squeal, it's imprinted behavior.

So there's a new Club in Miami called Swinging Richards. It is a gay themed strip club that caters to men who like men. Most of the strippers are straight personal trainers from local gyms who are proud of their physiques and their equipment. On any given night there are about 30 guys, on three stages who dance a 10 minute set. If the guy earns $10 bucks in the first 8 minutes he will strip down completely, full monty. If not, he will dance out his set and gracefully exit the stage. 

For the most part the patrons sip their booze and happily tip the dancers. The men who watch chat with each other, discuss politics, home decor, fashion and gossip the way their heterosexual brethren might talk about sports, and sports. Until that is, a woman comes in.

I was sitting there drinking my cosmo, chatting with my friends and this woman walks in the door, runs up to the stage and literally starts screaming. She was a foot away. Two other woman came up next to her squealed and giggled. Really? These were not young women. They were making a scene like this was the second coming or the last penis on earth.  None of the men were squealing, Dennis Rodman was not squealing. Then, after groping the performer, seeing his privates....they walked away giggling, no tip. They basically cock-blocked all of us from tipping the dancer and then the guy was just left there, penis in hand, no money.  It was at that moment I was glad I never dated women.

So ladies, if you go to a gay strip club just remember:

1. It's not Chippendales, go scream with your real girlfriends

2. Guys are there to chill, respect that.

3. Tip your dancer, waiter and bartender, they are not there solely for your pleasure.

4. Gays really don't want you there, no matter how much you think they do.(Even gays like a female free environment once and awhile.)

5. Don't act like middle school girls when you see a bunch of hot men stripping, sit back, relax, enjoy the show....make them work for their tips.    ; )

Underwater in Miami

So my lovely condo is worth less than $100K.  I have a mortgage that is about $300K. That is my reality today.  Let's not be confused with being underwater and being in foreclosure. Underwater simply means that you owe more on your home than it's worth. Foreclosure means that you're not paying your mortgage and it's being repossessed by the bank. Big difference. However, there is an economic and emotional toll of seeing your most important asset turn into something else. 

Let's think about the concept of "home" for a second. What words come to mind? Security, safety, status, and much more. Now think about the term homeowner. You think prosperity, security, status and so on.  Now imagine if those words meant things like trapped, ambivalence, insecurity, debt, risk. Because for those of us severely underwater that's exactly what it means.

Don't get me wrong. I did not buy more than I can afford. I did not "overextend" to live in some kind of dream penthouse. No I live in a modest two bedroom condo that doesn't quite occupy 1000 square feet. 960 to be exact.  Most of us in our small building of 24 units are underwater. There are doctors, police administrators, designers and other very prosperous middle class people living here.  None of us can move. None of us can sell. The couple (one of which is a physician) with the 5 year old and the newborn cannot move to the suburbs for better schools. Why, because we're underwater.

Underwater means things like, should I plant a garden, buy a new sink, paint a room because it just feels like throwing good money after bad.  Every decision about the house is just a little bit bitter, because in your heart you feel like a fool for making such a bad investment.  Yes, it was a bad investment.....we are on the hook for hundreds of thousands of dollars and no real asset to back it up. Most smart business people would say walk away and take some kind of tax write off because it's such a bad asset. But this is not just any asset, it's the roof over your head and you can't just walk away from your home without ruining your entire financial profile. 

Underwater means that the lovely 2000 square foot, 3 bedroom Spanish Mediterranean Revival two blocks away, which now costs less than what you paid for this condo is forever out of reach, because despite the fact we make a large enough income to cover mortgages on both properties, you cannot get financing because: "you're so underwater on your property, how do we know you're not just going to walk away from it.?" "No, you'll need a 50% down payment on any property you buy in the future". I'm sure it'll be many years before I have enough money to even buy a modest property if I need to come up with 50%.  Seriously, I doubt I ever will want to leverage $200K on a piece of real estate after the experiences in this economy.  

So I'm stuck in a place that I love, there are worse problems.  My prosperity will be reflected in my choice of decor, vehicles, art and savings.  The "dream house" will wait. Underwater means staying put, paying off  something that's essentially worthless. I'm sorry I can't help the housing market as much as I would like to.  

Oh well, I guess I can still make a worthless property pretty.