In the Sept. 2 issue of The New Yorker, writer Amanda Petrusich calls Miami an “aesthetically vulgar” city. Which seems an extreme reaction to … I’m not sure what. Art Deco? Midcentury Modern? Mediterranean Revival? Street murals? Palm trees?
Saturday we went to Miami – where I took a picture of two young women working a stand at the Arts Launch farmer’s market at the Arsht Center – and then we drove over to Miami Beach, where I snapped a photo of a tattooed back at the Broken Shaker and two tropically robed woman standing at the bar of the Time Out Market. Back on the mainland, I took two night pictures in the Design District. All are (or will be) available for viewing on Instagram.
Our relief at having been spared - instead of closing the shutters, this morning I opened the windows - has been tempered by concern for what happened in the Bahamas. I was at a party a few years ago when a man who was a boater told me: “The best thing about South Florida is the Bahamas.” So supplies are already piling up here in Ft. Lauderdale – the closest collection point to us is our local beer joint, Riverside Market – to be delivered as soon as it’s possible.
Fisherman’s stew @ Finster Murphy’s
Grandma’s pizza @ Anthony’s
Ham, egg, and cheese crêpe @ Voo La Voo Café
Prosciutto, stracchino, and arugula piadina @ Angelo’s Bakery Bar
Ceviche @ Bravo
Salade niçoise @ Hardy Park Bistro
Spaghetti alle vongole @ Sapido
Shrimp panang @ Thai Spice
Dolsot bibimbap @ Gabose
Aloo chole @ Bombay Café
Hania needed to buy a card and since Jezebel and Grand Central Stationery are closed on Sunday we went to Barnes & Noble. As she searched, I wandered over to the Travel section and found two paperback copies of The Joys of Travel, which the store had not carried for months. They were easy to find because they had been shelved with the cover facing outwards. Also, since the store carries so few travel essays and narratives, books by authors whose names begin with S are at gut rather than ankle level.
Back home I read an article in the New York Times Business section about the new chief executive of Barnes & Noble, James Daunt. He is a Brit whose first bookstore was a travel bookstore, or at least a store where books were organized according to country. (Not sure where that would have left The Joys of Travel.) As head of Waterstone’s, Britain’s largest chain bookstore, he had given store managers tremendous autonomy, allowing them to order and display the books that they thought their customers would want, a selection that included, one would think, books by local authors. I wasn’t sure if Daunt's philosophy was already in effect at B&N, or if the employees of the Ft. Lauderdale store were proactively responding to it. Or if the appearance of my book was just a fluke. This last scenario is the most appealing for it would seem to suggest a nationwide fluke.
Six people showed up last night to hear Tony Perrottet talk about his new book Cuba Libre at Books & Books in Coral Gables, a city that borders Little Havana. The author gave a capsule history of the revolution, noting at one point that the Americans owned everything on the island – the railroads, the power stations, the agricultural enterprises.
“No they didn’t,” a soft voice emanated from a middle-aged woman wearing a ponytail. “They didn’t own everything. I’m Cuban. Cubans owned things.” There was a short, cordial exchange before the author continued on with his talk.
Afterwards, standing at the bar in the courtyard, Perrottet asked a friend: “When are these Miami Cubans going to get over it? They’re like a jilted lover.”