Art Miami? More like FART MIAMI.

So, Pinc, Elad, Shawn and I, all went to Art Miami this weekend.

Friday night we saw the show at the Convention Center, and tonight we tried to go to the "Street Party" in the Design District.

::WHOMP, WHOMP!::

Boo.

Piece. Of. Crap.

Art Basel is a really, really tough act to follow... but there was no attempt here. No attempt, no publication, NO BOOZE (of course, being the operative and most germane complaint.) The Convention Center show was fine, small enough to manage...nothing I was really impressed with... (Although I was pleased to note that I could actually purchase a Picasso, if I didn't have better things to spend my money on...like a house.)

When Stephen and I used to go to the ArtWalks in the Design District, there would be at least a couple thousand people wandering around, boozing and walking through galleries.

Not so, this evening.

There were roughly 500 people, most of whom were wandering around looking as crestfallen and disappointed as our crew.

There was some art... in HOT galleries (why is the optimum temperature for showing art a balmy 92 degrees?! PUT ON YOUR GODDAMN A/C, PEOPLE. You're running the lights hot enough, make it cool enough so your potential buyers don't soak through their checkbooks... although I suppose you snooty temperature-resistant bitches don't take advice from a looky-loo like me...) but otherwise, little booze, no music (besides Salsa which I refuse to classify as music, after having lived here for long enough...now it's just annoying noise) no Crowds, NO NOTHING.

So, "Art Miami," that is why your name shall henceforth be "Fart Miami." Because... you were farty.

The quote of the evening came from Elad who said, "As usual, Miami doesn't fail to dissapoint."

So true.

On the upside, there were a LOT of well-groomed attractive homos floating around. I need to put my "Available" sign up...

All I thought, though, as I proceeded to sweat through my T-Shirt under my velvet blazer was, "Great. Another awesome outfit wasted."

Which brings me to my second point: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON, MIAMI?!

It's fucking JANUARY. Time for nightly temperatures to dip into the 50s and 60s. High 70s does NOT for a party make. It's hot as balls... still. It's not supposed to be. I don't know whether it's El Nino, or Global Warming, but whatever it is, it's cramping my style. I'm sweating. All the time. Still. During the summer, it's manageable, because I used to be able to tell myself, "Oh, no biggie, the weather will break in November, and it'll be cool and wonderful until April."

Apparently, this year, I was lying to myself, to get myself through April, May, June, July, August, September and October. Because you know what? It's not cool. It's not nice. It's not pleasant. It's just not insufferably hot. It's still hot. Hot as balls, I'd venture to say.

Hey Miami - JESUS.

And the worst thing? This balmy weather now will DOUBTLESS mean that hurricane season next year is a killa. Know why? Hot oceans = more storms. And the seas won't have a chance to cool down at this point, so, Miami Bretheran - as much as it PAINS me to say things, and believe me it does, fasten your seatbelts...

I think we're in for a bumpy 2007. Fuck.