I'm a little slow today. I just switched to Sanka. So...have a heart?

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Fun Game!

Here's a fun game! Read this Miami Herald Article, and see if you can find the two passages I find most offensive! If you win... you get the satisfaction of knowing you figured it out!

South Florida, U.S.A.
The yachts cost millions, but a look at how the other half lives is priceless

Everything's for sale. Mike Busacca, vice president of Platinum Yacht Collection of Allied Richard Bertram Marine Group, said that dockside at Fisher Island, before the Yacht Hop started to jump.

''It's always for sale. Everything's for sale,'' he said. He drank Corazón but turned down the mushroom puffs and wore a blue blazer with his shirt open at the collar, which was the style that night.

At that very moment, Wayne Huizenga's 228-foot yacht Floridian, the color of pearl and resembling a luxury skyscraper knocked on its side, was floating nearby: Mike happened to know it was selling for $70 million.

''There was a time when a 100-foot yacht was a big deal,'' said Sissy DeMaria, Fisher Island's public relations woman, who wore a black pantsuit and drank Grey Goose and cranberry.

Douglas and Linda Von Allmen's 157-foot Lady Linda was about to be christened, and Sissy walked down the floating dock, through a swelling crowd of men in blazers and wives in pantsuits and girlfriends in sundresses.

The dock started to roll under the weight of so many eager feet. To the best of Sissy's recollection, in the 19 years of the Rendezvous, the name given to this long weekend of Yacht Hopping, cocktailing, brunching and auctioning to benefit the Boys and Girls Clubs of Broward County, had anyone ever fallen off?

''I don't think so,'' she said.

Shoes were not permitted on the Lady Linda so Sissy slipped off her Chloes and walked barefoot down cool marble halls outside staterooms and more marble in the his and hers bathrooms. The marble was shot through with gold and it was everywhere.

''Exquisite,'' she said, examining the floor. ``Look at this. Ohhh, my God!''

It was time for the christening, but an Amazonian Australian crew woman blocked the path to the foredeck. ``Are we Mr. and Mrs. Von Allmen's personal guests? No? Unfortunately, only personal guests can go onto the deck.''

It was unfortunate. From the floating dock one hardly saw Linda smash a cloth-wrapped champagne bottle over the Lady Linda's prow, and the fireworks exploding over the radar array were cold comfort.

In front of each yacht, there was a pair of children from the Boys and Girls Club, waiting to take their benefactors' shoes. ''We tell them they're supposed to take their shoes off. Sometimes they don't want to listen to you, and they walk right past. We also tell them that there's food and a bar,'' said Catherine Bedoye, 10.

She and Yalitza Soto, 14, had been bused down from the Marti Huizenga Unit in Hollywood. ''I've never been to a place like this, with all these people of wealth, and all these yachts, and the person our club is named after,'' Yalitza said.

She suspected that the very rich were no different from her: ``They have more money. But they get sad, mad, upset too.''

Not the whole story, said Sissy.

''If you're an unhappy person, you're going to be unhappy no matter what,'' she said. ``But if you're rich, and you're happy, there's no limit to your happiness.''

Over on the Floridian's aft deck, Mike was earnestly thanking the bond magnate John Devaney for the use of his helicopter the other day. John had heard the Floridian was for sale but was happy with his own 142-foot Positive Carry.

The Huizengas were there, too, in blazer and pantsuit. Wayne confirmed that the Floridian is for sale, only because he and his wife have already sailed it three years and he hopes to golf more.

He looked extremely happy, happy to meet all these yacht-hopping adults, happy to raise all this money for the children down below. ``We want them to get a good education so they can contribute, rather than be a drag on society.''

Then Marti tugged his arm, because they had a dinner to go to, and the yacht was turned over to children, who quickly discovered in the media room the secret to true happiness: ``They got a popcorn machine! Oh my gosh!''

Yes. Santa's Enchanted Forest is very bright. Fucking drive.

Because so much of my life now revolves around trekking to and from "Unincorporated Dade County" back into my "bastion" in the Gables, I have little to nothing interesting to write about.

I work. When I'm not working, I'm brunching, or drinking, or going to events wherein I talk with famous people I'm in love with, like they're my old college friends. "Hey, Amy Sedaris - you burned your finger? You should put it in a cold liquid - making the burn airtight will make it stop hurting." "You mean like a Grape Sodey?" (Real exchange between Jerri Blank and me -- I can die happy now.) I'm going to see Roseanne, Hal Sparks, Jon Stewart and Margaret Cho in January. FINALLY I have something to look forward to again...

But I digress.

I have posted voluminiously about my distain for MDX's decision to COMPLETELY FUCK UP 826 South with their so-called "construction." Currently, the denizens of Western Miami-Dade County expend 97% of their brainpower just trying to figure out how to maneuver around the squiggle on 826 South at Coral Way. This squiggle backs traffic all the way up to 836 West. No biggie. After Coral Way, traffic moved.

Until now.

Every year, at Tropical Park, Miami-Dade County puts on another "tasteful exhibition." Nothing says Christmas like scrub meleleuca trees encrusted with rainbow lights, sparkly deer, light-constructed Santa Clauses and the rest of the crap they throw up in Miami-Dade County's gauche and typically tacky "Chistmas Fair!"

Going to any fair in Miami... sucks. Because White Trash at a fair at least understand the concept of a line. ::sigh:: Miami is the first place I've ever lived where I actually wished I could replace the population with normal, familiar white trash. Sure, they may be drunken crystal meth addicts on welfare, but at least they understand that "I got here before you, and got in the line," means that they'll ride the ride after me...

Sorry, I'm going on tangents. Focus.

Santa's Enchanted Forest is