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Miami, Florida
New Year's 2006/2007
I end up doing pretty much the same things every trip to Miami. Not
that lounging on the beach, sailing, eating good food and drinking rum
are bad things, but there are times when I get some serious deja
vu. So be it.
| My folks always take us to Little Havana for a meal. It was
lunch on this particular visit so I opted for a roast pork sandwich.
It was fantastic, piled high with juicy pork and topped with
caramelized onions. |
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| After unpacking and lounging and probably a few errands I
can't recall, me, my brother JN, and degenerate EM headed out for a night on
the town. We landed in South Beach at Club Deuce, a favorite
haunt in Miami. There aren't many bars that aren't discos out on
the beach, but the Deuce is perfect - friendly service,
reasonable drinks, boisterous but no techno racket and only one
TV. |
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| After a few beverages, my companions insisted on going to
look at the ocean. The moon shone over Miami's deco district,
somewhat calm before the New Year's Eve storm. |
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| But neither of my companions could just look at it,
despite the relative chill of the water and the gusty winds.
Within minutes they were both romping around in the waves in
their underwear. As our designated driver, I hadn't had enough
liquid courage/antifreeze to get myself in. |
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| Which, after watching JN try to put on sandy pants over
salty, wet skin, didn't make me feel like I'd missed out on too
much. |
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The next day we got up relatively early for a sail around
the bay, out past the behemoth cruise ships getting ready to
haul thousands of folks out to sea where they would undoubtedly
pick up some kind of
gastrointestinal illness. |
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On the way we were treated to pretty views of the Miami skyline,
cluttered with cranes. They're building high-rise condos and
office towers as fast as they can fling them up, despite the
fact that something like 70% of them remain empty or unsold. |
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My father often has had one catastrophe or another at sea but
somehow managed to captain us out and back again without serious
incident this time. We cruised out to a sandbar and weighed
anchor for a quick dip. |
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EM hates having her picture taken, so it's a challenge to
even catch her in the frame, much less without her frowning and
turning away, so enjoy this glimpse while you can. |
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A Flock of Seagulls were waiting for us on the dock when we
returned. Inset your favorite 80's/New Wave/hair joke here.
We dined at the yacht club for delicious blackened grouper
sandwiches before heading home. |
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For our evening entertainment, we headed to Tobacco Road for late night entertainment
featuring Reggie Sears, a "15 year old prodigy", leading the
Southern Soul & Blues Review. He has an interesting, raspy voice
and can play classic electric blues well, but it lacks
something. We couldn't suppress our giggles when he introduced
every song with "The other day I came home and my baby..."
"And by 'baby' you mean 'mother', right?" we responded. The kid
would be more believable singing about how hard algebra is or
how he failed his learner's permit test.
He could also use one less keyboard player. Seriously, what down
and out bluesman has three synthesizers backing him up? |
Drink prices at Tobacco Road were ridiculous and confusing. I don't know
if they had inflated them for the holiday weekend or what, but JN was
paying $7.20 for Jim Beam and Coke. $4.50 for a Makers, neat, was more
reasonable, but still not what you'd expect for a club known for it's
casual atmosphere.
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