The Cool Breeze of Miami Fall

The best time of year is upon us. I fired up the girlie Lexus hybrid and headed south early yesterday, in search of fish. No, not to hook them, but to net them at one of my koi suppliers. Raccoons or hawks or other varmint (I always think of Bill Murray in "Caddyshack" when I type or say that word) has been taking some of my koi, and I needed to replenish. So I drove south, but the koi were too dear. The place in Horse Country was better, and I bought a few little fish there. I arrived home to watch my Canes choke at Virginia. It was just as well -- NCAA sanctions loom like a toxic cloud, and they're not going anywhere for the next few years. Besides, schadenfreude was keen in college sports yesterday -- hated Alabama lost, and probably blew a chance for a national championship. So there was happiness in the Tide's misery... Then Wifey and I fired up the aging Volvo SUV and drove to west of Wynwood, to visit D1 at a cutting edge gallery on NW 7th Avenue. She was doing her part time job as a product front girl for cognac. The building was all black and white inside, with stark photos based on great banned books. We met the gallery owner, the curator from France, and a lovely young gallery manager. I told them all a little bit about the books and writers. The artist, a nice young fellow who was born in Spain and grew up in Hialeah, chose the books because he knew they were convroversial and banned, but hadn't read them. So we spoke about "To Kill a Mockingbird" and how William Carlos William's pre poet career as a pediatrician taught him first hand the awful misery of a child's death. It was really something to see -- these young, creative types happily at home in the city just 30 years ago labeled a "cultural desert." Miraculously, Miami has emerged as the third most important art city in the US -- after New York and LA. Much of it is Art Basel coming here, but the immigration and un melted melting pot nature have done their work, too. From NW 7th Avenue, Wifey and I drove to Wynwood, and parked on a lady's lawn for $10. She was an older black lady, and laughed at my reference to Orange Bowl parking on lawns back in the day. She promised "no blocking," but without the comical Spanish accent. Wynwood was buzzing. The streets were packed, with mostly young, way cool folks. It was Tri Beca with better weather. We visited my friend Rob's son Matt -- a gallery called the Hangar was showcasing his surreal work. Matt's on his way -- he's earning money for his art, and has a showing at Basel -- remarkable for such a young man. We remember Matt as a sweet, chubby 6 year old -- the only boy D2 invited to her birthday parties. Matt is now an impressive young fellow -- passionate about his painting, and working hard as a waiter to support himself as well. He wants to move to Wynwood, he said, so he can live among all of this burst of creativity. We look forward to being able to say we knew him when... Wifey and I made our way East, to North Miami Avenue, where a former client and friend of mine, also named Matt, hosted a party at his rum distillery. Yes -- he has started the first and only distillery in Miami Dade County -- and makes a rum called Miami Club. Matt's Irish American, not the traditional makers of rum, but his wife Joann is Puerto Rican, and comes from a long line of rum makers. Her family gave her their recipe, and Matt took off with the idea. The party was lovely. There was a 7 piece "Miami Club Rum Orchestra" playing salsa. They had a guest drummer from Nigeria, and they jammed wonderfully. After 3 drinks, I was swaying along, as the lovely breeze and spirit of the evening accompanied us. Wifey and I walked around some more, and marvelled at how Miami is the anti Disney. There are some mighy worn down buildings, and the folks were a true glorious mosaic. We loved it. We drove back to see D1 as she closed up shop. Several of her friends came by. Ah, youth. They all looked so beautiful, and vital. As one of my sister's said --EVERYONE looks great at 25. On the way back to the suburb, we called D2 at UF. She's thankfully doing great as well -- her amazing giggle lifted Wifey and me as we sat in the late night traffic on South Dixie. So last night I was a cool, artistic Daddy in the USA... I know nothing about art, but it sure brings out some fine and fascinating folks.