Saturday, April 21, 2007
Observations and missives from South Beach, Part Final
I talked in another ablum about the "cruising" that young people do along Ocean Avenue on Friday and Saturday nights. About how exuberant and vital it was. Alas! It appears that Complaints have led to Regulations and cruising has been Put To Death. Ocean Avenue is dreary with the loss.
Wild parakeets nesting in the palm trees on Lincoln Road, the pedestrian mall. Beautiful to see, and beautiful to hear.
To the man at the table next to us at the outdoor restaurant on Lincoln Road:
- Your teenaged son does not appear to be interested in your explanation of why you are trying to get out of paying child support to his mother (your ex and his custodial parent). I don't think he actually resents your representing his mother as reckless and irresponsible, and maybe even greedy and money-grubbing. No, I think he just so does not want to be involved. Not in your divorce, and not in the mess that you and your ex have created. I think that in his mind, it's your problem, not his. I can see his point.
- If you're going to trash your ex to your son anyway (and perhaps you see this as self-defense), pick a place where you have some privacy. Not a restaurant where the tables are spaced about a foot apart (obese waiters and waitresses need not apply), and everyone around you can hear you.
- You appear to be well educated, well dressed, and financially well off. Even professorial. Instead of trying to explain to your son, take a moment and actually look at him. Look at how he eats. To begin, he holds his fork backwards -- his thumb is toward the end of the fork, rather than toward the tines. He stabs down with the fork, impaling his steak, and then saws back and forth with his knife, cutting off a large, long piece. This he turns sideways and twists and stuffs until he gets the whole thing in his mouth at once. Then, looking like a hamster with pecans in his cheeks (and still holding his fork backwards), he chews and chews until he's finally able to gag the whole thing down. Then he repeats. Where did he get these table manners? Who raised him? Wolves? No, not wolves, because wolves would also have taught him not to leave half his food on the plate when he was done. Wolves are not wasteful.
...you are in Miami Beach. And if, on the day you're to leave, you discover that your car's battery is dead (because, like, you haven't started it since the day you arrived, because, like, you have bicycles, so who needs a car?). And if, after the valet jumps it for you, you are concerned that there might be a problem with the battery or the alternator. And if you want to get it checked before you leave...
...take it to Sierra Auto Center, 331 23rd Street, 305.531.4335. The guys there are awesome. Especially Carlos.
Don't ask me how I know this.
Farewell, Miami Beach.