I was one and a half years old at the time and had developed sufficient motor skills to deal the fatal blow. My parents deny that I was anywhere near Dallas in 1963, but a tattered Eastern Airlines ticket stub says otherwise. I’ve just completed Infanticide for a major publisher…
We have gazed upon the netherworld: drag queens with a grudge, the morally crippled, hustlers obsessed with short-order fame. And, dear God, we have become what we beheld. Well, sort of. It’s 3:00 a.m., it’s Hombre, it’s like an extremely confrontational Virtual Reality video recreation of a 42nd Street Jack…
Have you heard of this Miami Rocks, Too! thing? Bunch of bands showcase for the music industry’s big boys (and girls?). This year the East Coast Music Forum has been added – seminars, workshops, exhibitions. Famed producer Tom Dowd provides the keynote; he’s had a hand in some of the…
WITH FRIENDS LIKE US, JACKIE… The “Bon Voyage!” article by Kirk Semple in the December 18 issue of New Times is so true as to actually apply to myself. However, I am a U.S. Merchant Marine officer. I was recently injured on a U.S. flagship, and as a result, I…
The holiday season, and it’s beginning to feel a lot like celeb time. Models. Fashion vampires. The famous and not-so-famous everywhere, selling things, basking in the sun and the envy of the less celebrated, pollinating, spreading malaise. William Kennedy Smith, free at last and even more famous, reportedly seen stomping…
I totally screwed up – so what else is new? – a Screaming Iguanas of Love feature I’d hoped to publish in this issue of this newspaper. Somewhere in Melbourne (Florida) is a befuddled man, scratching his head and wondering what the hell was meant by the phone message on…
IN CONCLUSION I WOULD JUST LIKE TO SAY…UH, WHAT WAS I TALKING ABOUT? Regarding your “Search for the Lost Mojito” (December 11): I had my first mojito at the now-defunct Havana Clipper several years ago and instantly became a mojitoist, scouring all sources for recipes like some sort of “buzzed”…
I try to avoid using this space to plug myself (do too) and last week was a refreshing reminder why. Under the sadly mistaken impression that I could get a life, and caught up in the be-nice spirit of Chanukah et al., I hyped two events — “I’ll be there”…
Christmas looming up, the time when WASPs begin to feel cozy, expansive, suicidal, and the mood is, as a German friend of ours used to say, “so schtincky.” Time for the I-Cover-the-Waterfront beat. Warsaw has apparently finalized a deal to take over The Building in New York, according to co-owner…
Larie V. Dasthuld Miami TIRELESS EFFORTS HEREBY ACKNOWLEDGED I’m writing in regard to Ben Greenman’s article about monologuist John O’Keefe (“A Knockout Performance,” December 4). While the article was a comprehensive tribute to the artist and his body of work, one vital piece of information was missing regarding his Miami…
Is this the tiny part of the year during which it’s okay to be kind to people and generous? I always forget which week people give instead of take. Well if it is this week, here are three timely events: If your wishes include some hard-as-Quayle’s-head rock, nine bands deliver…
Club World. Openings and conceptual openings. Possible closings. The Tatou team, prospective Japanese investors and all, missing the parade: still no “serious offers,” according to Egoiste publicist Woody Graber. Uncle Charlie’s being raided for drugs. The killing fields at Luke’s. The continuing Hipodrome nightmare: Doran Jason Property Management posting a…
Post-Hipodrome frenzy: the fallout, a sudden void. And then…business as usual, clubs and one-nighters proliferating like mutant spores, feeding on the carcass. It’s just business, club business, and there’s no business like it. Thank God. Official and unofficial paperwork is flying in the wake of Hipodrome’s opening. Unofficial calls from…
I greatly admire Shirley McGreal, chairwoman and founder of the International Primate Protection League. She is an honest person who sincerely believes we owe the primates worldwide some respect and protection. She is a brave woman who has dared to expose unscrupulous animal traders and dealers around the world who…
Everywhere you turn, with the exception of George “Mr. Denial” Bush, it’s the same story: “We’re just getting by, what with this recession and all.” “Yeah, I hope to get some work soon, but it’s tough with this recession going on.” “I prefer steak to beans, too, but we’re in…
McGreal should keep up her efforts to uncover the sleaze of the wildlife trade that even is able to penetrate governments. The animals have her voice, which is the voice of millions of people, too. Roger Fried Boca Raton IT JUST GOES TO SHOW WHAT A WARM SMILE WILL DO…
It’s a visit to a nasty little place that makes you want to go somewhere else. Except that you already live there, it’s home, and there’s no way out anytime soon. It’s parties where you don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted by being included on the guest list…
What this town needs is some new trends, fads, something, anything, new. Oh, all right, we’ll take something borrowed, then. Rave, the British rage where thousands of people gather in fields to hear techno music, comes to South Florida tonight. DJ Pierre from London, DJ T4 from Jamaica, Freedom of…
Fall in New York, the leaves turning color, the air crisp and almost clean, the prospect of a sort of Merry Christmas. And the fashionable life, back in full swing. Apocalypse, the new heavy-duty industrial night at The Building, put together by Gary James and Bobby Stark of Disco Inferno…
WHATEVER HAPPENED TO “IF YOU DON’T HAVE ANYTHING NICE TO SAY…”? How refreshing to read Manuel Pila’s bull’s-eye description of Doc Wiley and Washington Square (“Letters,” November 13)! The number of people who must feel the same way might be into the hundreds by now. Doc is a sick pup…
Ya know snowbound New York rock-industry hotshots have their calendars blocked out, and so should you, even if you aren’t escaping the big chill. You rock, right? Mark off December 9 for the South Florida Rock Awards at the Button South. (By the way, I think the battle between this…
Let’s get something perfectly clear; Planets bassist and Washington Square music director Doc Wiley is an asshole on a petty power trip, and a self-aggrandizing one, at that. I know people who’ve played at Washington Square. I’ve played there myself. And it’s not that musicians in South Florida are jealous…
