Yesterday evening we had dinner with our neighbors, who are boaters. The other guests were also boaters. I mentioned that the smokestacks of the power plant by the port are going to be demolished early Tuesday morning.
"How are we going to get back from the Bahamas?" one of the women asked.
"Everybody uses them as a landmark," the host explained. "There are going to be lots of boats getting lost now."
Tuesday afternoon I was standing across the street from Tobacco Road, taking a picture of the facade, when a construction worker walked by, stopped, and asked if I wanted him to take my picture in front of the famous bar.
A few hours later, on Lincoln Road, I took the elevator up to Juvia, the rooftop restaurant with one of the finest outdoor views of Miami Beach. Three lovely hostesses at the entrance greeted me warmly. I asked them if I could just have a look around, and they said of course, and welcomed me in as if I'd arrived with a party of six.
I was taking pictures in Miami yesterday, and late afternoon found me on Ocean Drive. I hadn't been on the celebrated street for several years, and noticed some changes. Frozen cocktails are still being served in gigantic glasses, but some of them now come with two beer bottles (often Corona) planted in them head first. I had seen women on the sidewalk in bikini tops before, but yesterday was the first time I'd seen one store her cellphone in her cleavage. One of the benefits of silicon, I suppose.
Walking by Versace's old house I heard a woman tell her family: "This is where Liberace lived."
During the question and answer session at the Fort Lauderdale Historical Society last night a man got up and told of attending school next to the Kinney Tunnel during its construction. The noise was so bad that the teachers couldn't teach; every day he'd come into class and find written on the blackboard: "Read Your Book." The teachers would also bring in magazines for the students to read. "The whole year was like one long study hall," the man said. "It was wonderful."
Sometimes I think I'd like to live in a big city. But yesterday I came home from work, swam laps in the pool, then drove five minutes to a theater that was showing short films from Bulgaria, Belgium, Cyprus, Lithuania, Poland and Wales. It hardly seemed to matter that they were all boring.
Lunch yesterday at the Brazilian restaurant called Brazilian Restaurant. (Good name: No one has ever asked: “What kind of restaurant is that?”) I sat there enjoying the hearty food – yesterday ham, okra, black beans and rice from the buffet that changes daily – the soft music, the friendly service and the lovely sounds of the conversations going on around me, an added benefit that you don’t get in most restaurants.