I’m leaving Miami today.
After a brief layover in Atlanta, I’ll be back in brisk Minnesota! Vöt!
Mom and I went on a bucci bag hunt on 20th street.
20th street is Allapattah’s shopping district. It’s an interesting combination of imports, bootlegs, and back-of-the-truck items.
When I moved to Miami in 2002 there was only one residential tower under construction near I-95.
Within two years the city was covered in scaffolding.
The real estate boom started as I graduated high school and ended when I graduated from the University of Miami. Now the new skyscrapers dominate the skyline.
The short darker building is the only one that existed before 2002.
The most dramatic changes are along the US-1 corridor. In 2002, the Cuban Freedom Tower (the yellowish tower) was the only major building on that part of US-1. It was empty, except for a few squatters.
The tower was restored and the squatters were booted. The building was then gifted to the local community college. I think it currently houses an art gallery.
The skyscrapers aren’t doing as well as the Freedom Tower since the real estate market tanked. Condo units and sometimes entire buildings went into foreclosure. 40 units in our old apartment building are in foreclosure. The new midrise two doors down from my mother’s building is now owned by the bank. Some condos are auctioned off at half price.
Neighborhoods near downtown are dotted with cleared lots and signs advertising buildings that will never be built. There’s one such aborted project across the street. The lot is currently leased to the city to store construction equipment for the 12th avenue bridge repairs…
Many of the condo tower are now apartments that rent at a loss, and there is a rising squatter problem in the empty new buildings.
The squatter problem is most rampant in foreclosed homes. The city has even stopped clearing out squatters unless the owner complains.*
Although the Miami I left looks like a different city than the Miami I started high school in – it’s really the same city. The University is still crawling with New Yorkers. Little Havana still has Botanicas…
Now life just goes on with a few more empty buildings in the background.
* The exception for this is for crack houses. There was a crack house across from my mother’s apartment building that was raided and boarded up a few months ago.
Last night I went to The Knife with Madre, Lori, and her husband. The Knife is an Argentinian Steak house in Coconut Grove. The waitresses are pissy but the food is amazing.
There are roast pigs at the door:
Madre and I took a walk through Little Havana to downtown today.
We were surprised that all of the stores were packed. The line at Ross was grotesque. The line actually went all the way to the back of the store and began creeping along the walls.
That picture is from the back of the store. Yep.
Call it a handbag, manbag, or murse – but I want one.
Last night I dug through the Satorialist and saw some great pictures:
A video of the apartment iguana…
There are iguanas crawling all over mom’s apartment building. This is the largest one:
It’s a Miami Christmas: there’s the constant sound of singing and gunfire from across the river. (People in Little Havana shoot into the air to celebrate.)
My mother’s cell phone rings. I think she’s at the apartment next door, so I go outside to bring it to her.
I open the door and my mother and two neighbors come running up the stairs.
Mom: “Go inside and lock the door!”
There’s yelling from downstairs.
Me: “Whut what? What’s going on? Do we need the cops?”
Neighbor: “No, not yet…”
Yet. Great. I close the door and then hear a neighbor screaming outside: “Don’t you touch my wife!”
A few minutes later I hear my mother pounding on the back door.
Mom: “Why is the door locked?!”
Me: “Uh, you told me to lock the door…”
Mom: “Oh. Right. I meant the front door.”
Me: “What is this chaos outside?”
Mom: “We were all at Geraldo’s house and Jose was acting stupid… I think it’s because he wasn’t invited or something.”
She grabs a few diet cokes and goes back out the back door.
I return to my novel, and try to ignore the drunken conversation (and occasional screaming) from outside. We’ll see if things pop off…
**** Update
Mom comes back in and says:
Mom: “I’m about to call the police on his ass! Jose told me: ‘punch me in the face, I need to feel pain.’ See a few days ago he met this girl…”
Apparently Jose is running around asking all the neighbors to punch him ‘so he can feel pain’ because this girl he went on a date with ditched him for another man… special.
The things one misses during law school!
Today’s project is taming my inbox.I have 36 pages of unsorted emails. 260 are unread.
As I sifted through the junk I came across a school police alert from 12/10 – there was a genital grabbing incident and an indecent exposure…
On Tuesday, December 9, at approximately 6:00 p.m., a University of Minnesota student was the victim of criminal sexual contact involving inappropriate sexual contact on Washington Avenue.
The victim was walking westbound on Washington Avenue in front of Moos Tower when the suspect ran up behind her and grabbed her genital area. The suspect then ran off. The suspect is described as a black male with a dark complexion, approximately six feet three inches to six feet four inches tall with a light build. The suspect had scruffy facial hair and was wearing a black, bulky jacket and a stocking cap.
Also on December 9, at approximately 7:00 p.m., a University of Minnesota student was a victim of indecent exposure near the Science Classroom Building on Pleasant Street.
As the victim walked toward the Science Classroom Building, a man approached and exposed himself to her. The suspect then fled north on Pleasant Street. The suspect is described as a white male in his mid-40s, approximately five feet seven inches to five feet eleven inches tall. The suspect was wearing round glasses, a navy blue jacket and a dark stocking cap.
The two crimes are believed to be separate and unrelated. Anyone with information about either incident is asked to contact the University of Minnesota Police Department at 612-624-COPS (2677).
I’ve never heard of a surprise genital grabbing before…nor have I heard of Moos tower. Hm.
* Note: while the times seem extremely early, remember it’s pitch-black in Minneapolis around 5:30pm.
I’m in Miami. It’s raining, and I’m reading “Underworld” (by Don DeLillo) under a covered porch.
There’s a recurring scene in Underworld where a child in a car records the driver behind her.
The driver smiles, waves, and is shot in the head by a serial killer in a neighboring car.
Another shooting by the “Texas Highway Killer.”
The footage is looped and replayed on TV news stations. The characters in the novel can’t stop watching. They watch because it’s on…
I take a break from the novel and turn on FOXnews. I stand in the living room and watch this thoroughly uninteresting footage of a car parked outside of a dark gas station.
The anchor then says: “Texas rush-hour shooter kills two random people…”
This is how the conversation went.
Me: “Can I borrow your car to go to Taco Bell?”
Mom: “Sure…but you have to go to the 7th street one. It’s Christmas so US-1 is too dangerous.”
Me: “It’s not dangerous it’s like 9pm…”
Mom: “No! You are not crashing my car. I’ll drive you.”
The Taco Bell drive-thru line is ridiculous so we go inside. The tables and floor are caked in leftover wrappers and food…
Me: “The drive-thru is always crowded because all Taco Bells look disgusting inside. Even if they are new.”
Mom: “I think it’s the faded colors…”
The cashier walks past us to sweep. She stops when she sees the mess.
Cashier: “People are so fucking disgusting!”
Mom: “What was that?”
Cashier: “Oh! Nothing… sorry.”
Outside…
Me: “She said that ‘people are so f-ing disgusting.”
Mom: “Oh, I heard her. I just couldn’t believe she said it...”
I’m walking into the airport at 9am. My flight is at 10:50am. I think I’m way too early… until I get to the security check.
Sprawling line. Screaming kids. Annoyed old people.
I stand patiently in the snaking line.
My laptop is out. My coat is off. I have my boarding pass and passport ready – Bring it.
I get near the “show me your boarding pass” podium and see that they are separating us into two lines. There are two podiums “for our convenience.”
Of course, I pick the wrong line.
The line isn’t moving at all. I look ahead and realize why: there are two arthritic, wheel-chair bound grannies at the head of the line.
The security officer is scrutinizing their IDs as if there is a security alert out for a blue-haired bomber.
Everyone in line watched the painfully slow ordeal of Grannie-A taking off her shoes, getting helped out of the wheel chair, and slowly shuffling towards the metal detector.
The airline assistant then folds up Grannie’s wheel chair and shoves her belongings through the x-ray machine.
The metal detector guy has to lead Grannie-A through the machine. Shuffle-shuffle.
He then wands Grannie-A down, and tells her to go to the extra-screening area.
The whole process repeats for Grannie-B.
Once the grannies are out of the way, the line starts moving again…but then a soccer-mom looking woman is pulled aside. Instead a boarding pass, she has this marked up half sheet of paper… it looks more like half of an old boarding pass she found in a trash can.
The four security officers mull over the boarding pass, “this doesn’t look right…” and they eventually send her back to the ticket counter.
The problem is that the woman’s husband and daughter already have their shoes off and all of their belongings in the buckets. The officer calls the father over,
Security: “Sir, please gather your belongings and come with us.”
Father: “What’s the problem?”
Security: “Sir, we need you to get your things and come over here.”
(Now angry) Father: “You mean I have to put my shoes, sweater, coat, and all that other stuff back on and get out of the line?”
Security: “Yes. And then come over here to the side.”
The father is not thrilled. He storms back to the metal table and tells his daughter to put her coat and shoes back on. The security people watch the father bitch… and they mutter about what a jackass he is “less than professional” comments.
I eventually get through security and check the flight arrival screen.
My flight’s delayed. Snow in Iowa or something….so I wait at the airport McDonald’s.
There are families with litters of small children and serious men clutching newspapers.
There’s also a bar (The Lodge) across the hallway. It’s 9:30am and there’s a guy finishing what’s definitely not his first…
The free wireless at the airport is limited, but it lets me go to the airport website.
I load the MSP-Airport website to check my flight time. A page loads with the following disclaimer:
Flight Information
The arrival and departure information contained within the following link is obtained from a source other than the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. The Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport accepts no responsibility regarding the accuracy of this information and is not responsible for typos, errors or inaccuracies of any kind.
http:// flightarrivals.com
I follow the link. Flightarrivals.com doesn’t have any record of my flight’s delay. Fail.
So, curious, I go back to the MSP-Airport site and read their terms of service. The whole electronic contracting/ browsewrap reading from Contracts came back to me.
From the terms of service:
The user of the Metropolitan Airports Commission’s (“MAC”) website expressly agrees that use of the MAC’s website is at the user’s sole risk.
… The MAC makes no representations or warranties, express or implied, with respect to the use of or reliance on the data provided on the website, regardless of its format or means of transmission. There are no guarantees or representations to the user as to the accuracy, currency, completeness, suitability, or reliability of the data on the website, for any purpose. The data published on the website could contain technical inaccuracies or typographical errors. The user accepts the data “as is,” and assumes all risks associated with its use.
The MAC assumes no responsibility for any damages resulting from, caused by, or associated with the user’s reliance on or use of the data, use of the website, or for the delay or inability to use this website, even if appraised of the likelihood of such damages occurring.
In regular-speak that means: “this information may or may not be correct and sucks for you if it’s not.”
And because they outsourced their flight time info, it’s a “double sucks for you, we aren’t responsible.”
Great. Thanks.
Luckily the limited wireless also loaded nwa.com, which had accurate information…
The plane lands in Miami. We are standing in the isle, bags in hand… first class is already off the plane, but no one else is moving…
Why?
The grannies. Grannie-A and Grannie-B are on the plane. Canes in hand…shuffling.
Bah! Took about 10 minutes for them to get off.
We’ve had snow. Lot’s of it.
Minneapolis-St. Paul declared a snow emergency. So I’m flying to Miami.
Have fun shoveling & saltin’ y’all.
On Friday Paige and I went to the Outlaw end-of-year bowling event. This is her striking:
Friday night Jamie and I had a movie night and watched Reservation Road and The Flock. I was shocked to see Avril Lavigne’s cameo in the latter.
Avril, of course, gets killed.
On Saturday Stella and I went to Mall of America and saw all sorts of awkward:
My last exam was civil procedure.
Civpro is my favorite class, but the exam was… difficult. My housemate felt more strongly about this:
Housemate: “That wasn’t multiple choice! That was multiple rings of hell!”
Half of the gamma (legal fraternity) house is cleared out. The rest of us are leaving at the end of the weekend.
Most of us are tired… and others…
Since the semester ended there have been lots of festivities. I’ll have a legitimate post (and vlog!) tomorrow!
So, I forgot to mention that the day of my torts final there were several girls in my class who wore t-shirts that read (something like): “Whenever you feel like you’re drowning in shit remember Mrs. Rush.”
And it made my day. It really did. A summary of Rush v. Commercial Realty Co is here.
While attempting to describe tomorrow’s civil procedure exam to Jamie:
Me: “Not being able to use notes on a civpro exam is like being forced into a blindfolded gymnastics competition and the being compared to all the other gimpy, blindfolded contestants.”
**** two hours later….
Jamie (coming into dining room): “I hear too much music out here. I don’t think you’re studying.”
Me: “Yeah huh! I’m reviewing dispositions…dysput…desspu… damn it I can’t say it… DESPOSITIONS! RULE 27!”
Jamie: “You’re fried.”
