Hurricane season is almost over, so it is now time to examine the deep state of Miami. Yes, the climate is changing, yes, the waters are rising, and yes, we have a new Supreme Court justice, but no – none of this is going to break my spirit. I am leaving the couch, turning off the TV and going out.
I saw the Rolling Stones way back when they, and I, were young. I saw Frank Zappa, Stevie Wonder, Sting, James Brown, Funkadelic, Santana, and could go on. So recently I caught Beyoncé and Jay Z at the Hard Rock Stadium; the biggest acts in the world do not skip Miami.
The night was hot. It was stormy. Hard Rock has more security than an airport. Still thousands packed the stands and the field. My jaw dropped, my ears rang and my feet hurt. My nose tingled from our early imitation of Canadian legalization, and my eyes adored her. Top notch sound, visuals, music, dancing, musicianship, and futuristic multiculturalism. Bottom line – see one of these mega shows some day.
Though autumn weekends can indeed liberate us, I couldn’t make it this year to the annual South Miami Dade Cultural Art Center’s Backyard Bash. I didn’t have the lowercase time to see Morris Day and the uppercase Time. I missed Lauryn Hill at Bayfront Park. My bike got a flat in Wynwood on my way to the venerable Panther Coffee which, out of loyalty and respect, I continue to frequent whenever I can. I would love to have gone on the Critical Mass Halloween Ride, but then there was Salsa Craze’s Halloween Bash at the U, whose ruedas get in the way of all other Friday night activity. I missed GEMS which also gets bigger and more hyped. Oktoberfest is long gone despite my having gotten caught in some Fritz and Franz frenzy while walking in the Gables. I might have enjoyed Brickell’s Taste of Avenue 3 had I only known that it was going on. I also missed the 6th South Florida Seafood Festival at the Marine Stadium on the Rickenbacker, not to be confused with the one I attended, the South Beach Seafood Festival. Its Chef Showdown, buoyed last year by crazy drunken theater starring the Japanese sushi master of a respected Doral hotspot, continues to be a fabulous ticket to a delicious, down-to-earth, unpretentious event. Don’t change it.
With all that seafood on the brain – pre-election – I wonder if Rick Scott’s Red Tide will have any influence on the future quality of our sea’s bounty as I simultaneously remain in major denial about what all of us realize is coming down the pike.
While I’m U-turning, despite speed of light changes occurring here, I would suggest that we come up with a new name for developers. What have they actually developed? Maybe it’s unfair to blame them as they profit, build, and expand, while at the same time, gentrifying and destroying. Some like it; others find it repulsive, but do we ask for it? Often, the things we loved most – Wynwood circa 2014 and the Wynwood Yard like right now – disappear.
But that’s enough darkness for now. Autumn’s in the air, the palm fronds are changing colors, and the peacocks have new bounce to their struts as we all breathe a sigh of relief and await six months of peace and cool.
