When it had two publishers, Ego Miami magazine was the perfect Freudian synthesis. Fun-loving David Harris was the hedonistic id, and rational-minded David Bick was the cautious superego. The pocket-size tome, with a circulation in the free-distribution-pile-at-Browne’s low ten thousands, actually reflected a more Ego Miami Beach persona, containing as…
First a rock smashed the front window. Then, after a metal shutter was slammed shut, a bottle exploded against it. Then another. And another. A thousand Haitians burst through a police barricade one steamy summer Saturday in 1990 and swarmed a storefront off Biscayne Boulevard. Inside, as muscular Cuban-American shopkeeper…
If The Bitch were to pitch a sitcom starring South Beach entrepreneurs Dwight Nelson and Robert Sibel, she would draw catcalls of clich. Though the duo brings to mind mellow-hip incarnations of Bill Cosby and Robert Culp in the Sixties intelligence-gathering spoof-thriller I Spy, their shtick has definite Odd Couple…
Liberace Speaks … or the artist strikes back: Please note that I was misquoted in the article “In Darkness There Is Light,” (October 20) by Carlos Suarez De Jesus. First there was this: “I’ll live as I wish.” Maybe Liberace said this? And then there was: “I’m bringing you the…
DJs Are Dummies Free weekly is a sell-out: Looking at your music reviews and large advertisers in your music section led me to this question: When did DJs become musicians? I firmly believe that if you have talent as a performer, whether God-given or learned, you must earn the title…
When Peter Loftin wants to hear a certain dime-slot-eyed soul singer’s music at his party, he doesn’t have an iTunes-crazed crony burn him a mix CD. Nope, Loftin, who debuted his private Casa Casuarina Club on Ocean Drive this past Saturday, presented the singer herself — barefoot Brit and Gap…
The Sanctuary hotel has a customized Bentley to whisk its guests around South Beach in style. The Ritz-Carlton offers a hunky poolside “tanning butler” to help schmeer sunscreen onto those hard-to-reach body parts. And, should musical inspiration strike in the wee hours, the $1000-a-night Setai features a Lenny Kravitz-designed recording…
Brett, Brett, Brett You’re no car guy: Regarding Brett Sokol’s article, “Perception Is Reality” (October 6): First paragraph, “Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs, nonchalantly striking a cooler-than-cool pose in all their pastel-jacketed, Lamborghini-driving glory.” It was a Ferrari, not a Lamborghini. Well done, though. Matthew Winer Miami Beach Try walking:…
A Savage Speaks Oops, not that one: Regarding the story “Savage Station” by Bob Norman (September 22), thanks for letting me know about the great things going on. Although Savage is just that, he speaks the truth about many people. It’s disgusting how the media portrays Bush as the goat…
One of the services offered by Martin Markowitz, according to his business card, is “fact or fiction analysis.” The Bitch has a lot of trouble distinguishing between the two, so she called him. Turns out the fiftyish Kendall resident is the inventor of a machine he calls the K-Bar Electronic…
Miami, 1988: Led by Barbara Capitman, Art Deco preservationists lose their fight to save the Senator Hotel from the wrecking ball. Coconut Grove is in the throes of an identity crisis as city commissioners ban street vendors. Knight Ridder and Cox Newspapers, owners of the Miami Herald and the Miami…
For all of University of Miami president Donna Shalala’s talk about a new spirit of academic rigor, no one’s going to mistake her school’s palm-lined environs for Oxford anytime soon. Strolling across the Coral Gables campus last Friday, past fresh-faced coeds padding off to class in their flip-flops, shorts, and…
New Low for New Times Goodbye, free weekly: Miami New Times has stooped to an unparalleled low with the story “Disintegration” by Forrest Norman (September 15). Whatever happened in Marcy Hine’s life is nobody’s business but hers and that of her family. The story served absolutely no purpose, except maybe…
Alert architect Robert Swedroe contacted The Bitch to register his rage over unpoliced offscourings on North Beach. What the City of Miami Beach calls a park at 76th Street and Atlantic Way east of Collins Avenue has Swedroe swearing “What a dump!” — and he’s not campily referencing Bette Davis…
Forget about calling it the American Riviera. When election season rolls around, Miami Beach begins looking less like a well-oiled resort town and more like Caracas, complete with all manner of backroom intrigue: anonymous flyers alleging anti-Semitism, cryptic Spanish-language radio ads intimating pro-Castro sympathies, and whispers of secret payoffs. The…
Five weeks after the Miami Herald canned columnist Jim DeFede, his spot in the newsroom appeared, well, rather strange. A crash dummy in a baseball cap, jeans, and Nikes sat in his chair. Its left hand rested on the desk next to a bottle of Australian Chardonnay. Nearby was a…
Note to Wayne Huizenga Even die-hard Dolfans say it’s time for a change: I’ll admit I was not thrilled to hear that people thought our Miami Dolphins logo needed an upgrade. Yet the beauty and clean lines of the new design by Steve Guaico of North Miami, displayed on last…
Hoops Hype Got game? Come to Flamingo Park and we’ll see about that: Having read Forrest Norman’s great article “Streetball Legends” (August 25), I would like to invite him to see the South Beach streetball at Flamingo Park (Thirteenth Street and Meridian Avenue). Any day of the week between five…
The 1200-year-old Borobudur temple in central Java, Indonesia, now sparkles at night thanks to the work of lighting designer Robert Daniels, who redesigned the Buddhist temple’s illumination scheme. “The Borobudur temple, covered in elaborate carvings and sculptures, is certainly one of the most magnificent and beautiful … monuments,” explains Daniels…
Another Bahamas Mystery Snatched in the middle of the night: I read Bob Norman’s four-part series about the disappearance of Gary Weaver (August 4, 11, 18, 25) and was struck by the similarities to a crisis in my own family. My cousin’s cousin disappeared under mysterious circumstances around the same…
Pitbull was humbled by a hot dog. Miami’s most respected round-headed rapper had to wait in line along with everyone else at a concession stand in the American Airlines Arena during Sunday night’s Video Music Awards, paying for his snacks and remaining relatively unrecognized, while a few yards away Kristin…
The summer of 2005 seems as endless as Abel Gance’s Napoléon. The Bitch passes the time staying fit with the Abraham Lincoln workout — a regimen of rail-splitting, log-cabin-building, ceiling-walking, and Union-preserving — making cafecito Popsicles, and of course sleeping. But the thus-far Marfan-syndrome-free dog is not the only newshound…
