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Manatees Haddon Hall Hotel Scuba King Home Bass And For My Next Trick The Everglades Sunstroked The Vice Squad Mr. October Through February Corrupted Hollywood Florida The Yacht Club Master Raftsman Walk Among Man Rocket Fuel Little Havana Homage Jai-Alai Stiltsville Bankrupt The Good Night The Dirtiest South Miami Heat

146 Oranges vs Cocaine



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Mike and Stephen Malbon Chris Nagy Sir Frank Frank Green J. Nicely Ryan DiDonato Sky Farrell Dan Tochterman Craig Wetherby Conor McNally Sever at Sherry Brody Rupert Atkin, Seth Browarnik, Murry Brody, Seth Brody, Pete Capo, Stephanie Cerini, DJ Craze, Andrew Dade, Anat Ebgi, Jean Inman Farrell, Fubz, Charlie Garcia, Carol Garvin, Naomi Harris, Hardy Hill, Rodney Jackson, Fritz Jeanniton ,Breanna Livie, Marco Mavridis, Joshua Neuman, Adam Pasulka, Dana Shagayen, Stephanie “Schui” Schumacher, Synapse, 13th Witness, Lyly Villanueva Kristen Jones Jake Lemkowitz, William F. Striebe III Nikita Jayasuriya, Patrick Janelle Brian J. Marvin Mark Meyerhoff & Domingo Neris Todd Nisbet Mr. Bee Dave Cove & Aaron Ginsberg Daisuke Shiromoto Lyntaro Wajima, Takayuki Shibaki Thomas Subreville Arnaud Pigounides Adam Pasulka

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Introducing the highly anticipated second model from New Era™ and DC, The 20|94™ Volcano and Cap. Check out the website for more information:


Words Jake Lemkowitz Image Courtesy of West Indian Manatees are giant gentle marine mammals that just want to float around warm water and eat plants all day. Girls dig them because they have a face like a bulldog, a body like a big fat dolphin, a tail like a beaver, and whiskers. They also have extremely human-like eyes, which is why sailors used to mistake them for mermaids. Although, these animals have no natural enemies, they are in danger of disappearing completely. There are only about 3,000 left in the United States. It’s a shame. Most manatee deaths occur because people accidentally run them over with speedboats, and almost any manatee you find in Florida will have scars from old propeller wounds. This makes manatees sound like they are total bad asses, but actually they are wimps. Just touching one in the wild can cause it to get scared. In the winter months it might flee into colder waters, where manatees are extremely susceptible to harm. If you get caught trying to ride a manatee, the fine can be up to $100,000.

Don’t even think about killing a manatee and eating it. Manatees used to be widely hunted for their meat, but this is obviously now outlawed. It’s not going down in Miami anymore at least, but in some countries like Columbia and Belize, manatee poaching is not uncommon. The taste is described as a cross between very tender beef and pork. To be honest, it sounds kind of good. If you want to help the plight of the manatee, you can adopt one online at



Where Living is a Pleasure Words & Photos Naomi Harris A few weeks ago I went to Miami to attend Art Basel. Every night was spent getting into fabulous parties, drinking plenty of free booze and gawking at the ridiculousness of it all. It’s been seven years since I relocated myself from New York to a sleepy little hotel in the heart of South Beach in order to photograph its last remaining seniors. Funny how in only a few years a place can undergo such a transformation. When I moved down to Haddon Hall Hotel in December of 1999, Miami Beach was barely holding on as the safe haven of the retired person, full of sunshine, cheap rents and early bird specials. In its place had sprung up a town thriving on debauchery and hedonism. Silicon, sun tan oil and cocaine replaced banlon, Bengay lotion and rice pudding. In the mid-80s the decrepit buildings of South Beach were rediscovered for their architectural significance. Committees were formed and historical societies deemed them to be landmarks. The seedy hotels in the deco district that once provided affordable accommodations for the “snow bird” jumped on the gentrification bandwagon and began to evict the older residents in order to renovate and replace them with a younger, richer clientele. Haddon Hall was one of the few options available to those seniors who wished to stay. Once used to bunk World War

II soldiers stationed in Miami Beach for training, it was the last of the oldtime hotels that housed the remaining senior citizens of Miami Beach. Upon eviction from other hotels, many of the beach’s elderly ended up at Haddon Hall. The seedy hotel offered the displaced seniors a place to live at a relatively cheap price. Most of the tiny rooms were equipped with a single bed, a television with lousy reception and a small kitchen enabling the tenant to make their own meals. The payphones were removed from the lobby so the elderly people were forced to go across the street to make calls on a payphone outside. Their days were spent sitting on the veranda watching the traffic go by or snoozing by the pool out back. During the winter months, when the seasonal guests arrived, bingo was played three nights a week and twice a week a mediocre trio played big band




standards. Most of the conversations overheard at the hotel centered on the “good old days”. Paradise for the seniors was short lived. Haddon Hall too began its own renovations in the fall of 1999. Rather than closing the hotel down to remodel from top to bottom, they conducted the refurbishing with its inhabitants still inside. Several residents were forced from the prime rooms to smaller ones. The move would be exhausting and emotional for the 80+ year old person who was given no choice in the matter. Other inhabitants were deemed inappropriate guests, due to their appearance and declining health, and were asked to leave. Those fortunate enough to still have family moved in with them. The only option for the others was to move into a nursing home.


When I discovered the hotel I found a unique community of people society chose to ignore. Suspicious of strangers, I decided to make myself known to them by joining them. I lived at the hotel for two months beginning in December 1999 and became the group’s surrogate granddaughter. By gaining their trust and friendship, I was permitted into their guarded lives and was able to photograph and learn about these individuals. Eventually I moved into my own apartment but continued my visits to the hotel; sometimes to photograph, other times just for company. The project ended two and a half years later when most of the hotel guests either passed away, moved to nursing homes or became too sick to make the trip down to Florida. I myself moved back to New York in April 2002. These images are a documentary of the hotel’s last days as a place where seniors could live out their golden years.


Justin Hebbel in the Leland.

Embry Rucker photo


Words & Photos Stefanie “Schui” Schumacher Additional Images Courtesy of Lee Turcotte Lee Turcotte - scuba diving pioneer, world-class spear fisherman and global traveler, hails from Miami, Florida. Turcotte moved to Miami in 1947 when the city was just beginning to enjoy its first heyday as a world-class playground to the rich and famous. Friend to surfers and gangsters alike, Turcotte put Southern Florida on the map as a scuba diving destination before scuba diving was an industry. One exotic diving excursion after the other, Turcotte built an industry from the bottom up. To this day he is one of the most sought after diving tour guides in the world. Frank151: So what brought you down to Miami? Lee Turcotte: I grew up in orphanages. I had a horrible childhood, horrible. But one year I came down to Miami with an uncle. Then I got drafted into the Korean War. I went to Korea and fought, then I came back to Miami. I got a job with the Veterans of Foreign Wars as a bartender. I was drunk all the time! Horrible things had happened in Korea, terrible things. Well, I quit that job and got a job as a lifeguard on Hollywood Beach. Then I joined Miami Beach Fire Rescue. It was after the Korean War

and WWII, lots of money in Miami, all the movie stars were here, all the Art Deco hotels were built at that time. It was Miami’s first heyday and during that time I got to experience the best travel, the best people, the best art, the best music. It was a great time. F151: How’d you get into being a scuba diving tour guide? LT: Not a lot of people had boats down here back then. I had a boat and guys at the bars would send tourists my way. I’d take people out diving. My scuba diving business went from here


and then just branched out. I started traveling around to all the dive stores and became friends with everyone. Diving was just starting. The first island I picked for a tour was a primitive, unknown little island in the Caribbean that no one had ever heard of. You know what that island was? Grand Cayman. F151: But you were still working at the firehouse when you started giving diving tours? LT: Yeah, I’d go running every morning in the parking lot and this little old guy would walk by with his dog. It was Meyer Lansky! He was so humble, so smart. So I’d be running in the morning, he’d be out with his little dog and we’d sit on the sea wall and talk. We became friends. God, was he smart, that guy. You could talk to him about anything except how many people he’d killed. I knew Murf the Surf, too. He’s the guy who stole the Star of India, the world’s largest sapphire. Yeah, Murf the Surf. He was just an associate, not a friend. That guy killed two girls in Whiskey Creek. De-bowled them, threw them in the creek with cement blocks around their feet — and one of them was still alive. But Murf wasn’t a sophisticated criminal. Not like Lansky. F151: Why do you think so many gangsters were in Miami at that time? LT: Miami was the place to be! Everybody was here — Al Capone lived on Palm Island. I’m walking down Collins Avenue one day and here comes this guy in a red convertible and it was Ed Sullivan! You could talk to the movie stars back then. People were nice. Not like today with all the hangers-on.


F151: You got a lot of turtles on that wall. LT: I caught all those turtles by hand. You won’t see another wall like that anywhere in the world. I guarantee it. (Ed. Note – It’s true, it is now illegal to hunt tortoises.) F151: You’ve been around the world two and a half times this year. You’ve been everywhere. Why do you always come back to Miami? LT: The temperature. I like cities, but I like Miami for the warm weather and crystal clear water, and because you can take a plane anywhere from here. Miami is the best city in the best country in the world.

F151: What’s coming up in the future? LT: I’m starting a new kind of dive tour. Travelers will be able dive and work on one of the world’s biggest treasure and archeological discoveries of our time. No one’s been able to wreck dive a treasure and archeological site before. I’ll be signing people up starting May 2007.

For more info on Lee Turcotte’s diving tours, he can be reached at 305-757-8785.


Words & Images DJ Craze When people think of Miami Bass they usually associate it with booty shaking girls, sunny weather and cars with booming systems. A lot of that is part of it, but growing up in Miami it was much more than that. Growing up in Miami’s heavy Caribbean and Latin influenced communities, I learned at a very young age that it was all about the bass. If you listen to older Reggae music or even older Merengue and Salsa music, nothing stands out more than the bass. It was only natural for me to follow the bass even till this day (the only reason why I got into spinning Drum & Bass). There’s something about standing next to a speaker and feeling your insides shake.

In the early 80s Hip Hop was exploding in the streets of New York. With the help of the legendary Afrika Bambatta, Hip Hop made its way to Miami via “Planet Rock”. This song borrowed a sample from the group Kraftwerk, and this defining Electro sound would become the foundation for the genre of Bass music. Songs that stand out for me were “Clear”, “Play At Your Own Risk” and even Freestyle songs like “Don’t Stop The Rock” and “It’s Automatic”. A big part of the sound was the infamous Roland TR-808,


this drum machine would become an essential component to all Miami Bass because it brought that BOOM!!! One of the earliest Bass records came from a man called MC A.D.E. The track was called “Bass Rock Express”, and it was produced by Amos Larkin (under the pseudonym Leon Greene) whose pioneering use of the 808 would help to define the direction of early Miami Bass music. I remember as a lil’ kid hearing my brother’s car rumbling from blocks away pumping this song loud as f**k. Later on, Bass music took another

turn that has influenced me till this day the introduction of DJ influenced Bass. The one man solely responsible for this new style of heavy scratching Bass was Magic Mike (a legend not only in Bass but for DJ’s all over the world). This style of Bass was so amazing to me because as a young kid I didn’t really care what the MC was saying, it was all about the crazy sound that the DJ was making with the turntables. Other DJs that were killing it at the time were Jock D, Jealous J (now known as Jim Johnson), Mr Mixx and my hometown favorite DJ Laz. These dudes are the reason why I do what I do now. It’s crazy to me how Magic Mike was one

of Rap’s first acts to go platinum. That’s how big Bass was. The love I have for this music has surpassed my love for any other genre because it’s what I grew up with. This is the reason why I made my mix CD, Bass Sessions. When people talk about Hip Hop, Bass should be mentioned right up there with Gangsta Rap, Conscious Rap and Golden Era Hip Hop. While New York was more into the MC and party rocking flavor, Miami was more into Bass. MC’s even started talking about it in their songs. There’s

one song that stands out the most for how we felt back then. The song was called “BASS TOWN” by Party Rock Crew. In one line this song sums it all up: “Miami is home, yes home of the BASS / All other cities come in second place / We’re chilling and illin’ under the sun / The only city known not ran by RUN”. Although other cities were making Bass music, we declared it ours and Miami has been the home of Bass ever since.

Check out DJ Craze Presents Bass Sessions coming out on Disque Premier/Audio Research, and online at

Words William F. Striebe III Photos Charlie Garcia Life is never easy, no matter where you’re at. But being raised in the heart of Liberty City, in a family of 26 siblings, trying to live off welfare and food stamps doesn’t make it any easier. The struggles Trick Daddy faced growing up are not that different from the problems many kids in his hometown of Dade County face today. But his Trick Luv Da Kids Foundation hopes to change that. His mission is to encourage underprivileged youth to achieve a better quality of life through educational, social, and musical development.

It’s easy to foster a defeatist attitude when the chips are stacked against you, but Trick flipped the game in his favor and lyrically fought for his place in Hip Hop history. It’s this sort of experience that Trick hopes to share with da kids. Behind his flawless Rap game is an individual truly dedicated to his humanitarian game, and his goals are realistic too. He’s not trying to adopt all the kids in Africa and end its poverty like some celebrities. His mission brings him right back to where he started - the 305. With a heart as pure as the platinum coating on his albums, Trick Daddy gives Thanksgiving turkeys to the turkeyless and holds toy drives on Christmas for da little ankle-biters of Dade and Broward counties. Trick’s charity isn’t just exclusive to the


holiday seasons either. He holds an annual need-based scholarship essay contest with a $1,000 purse going to an incoming college freshman to help pay for books and supplies. My personal favorite is the family trip to Disney World that he gives to one lucky family at the end of each school year. There can be no debate that Trick Daddy truly remembers where he’s from. What’s that you’re asking? You want to know how you can help? Well my advice is if you got some extra feta at the end of the fiscal year, spread the love on the brittle cracker that is Miami and donate to the house that Trick built.

For more information on how to get involved check out


A Fine Line between Existence and Extinction Words Lyly Villanueva Photos The Brody Family The Everglades is an ecosystem at risk. Human intervention in South Florida’s wetlands has severely altered the ecosystem’s make up. The South Florida ecosystem covers all of the following areas: from Orlando through the chain of lakes, Lake Okeechobee, the Kissimmee Valley, and on to the waters of the Florida Bay and the coral reefs. This just shows that the Everglades encompasses much more than just the National Park, it also includes millions of people and their homes. After years of human intrusion, the Everglades has been destroyed and does not perform the same tasks or functions the same way it used to. There is a plan to restore the Everglades called the Comprehensive Everglades Restoration Plan (CERP), which provides a framework for restoring, protecting, and preserving the water sources that are provided by the Everglades. More than a century ago South Florida was a marshland made up of an

intricate system of natural canals. These wetlands covered over 8.9 million acres and went all the way from Orange County to the Florida Bay. Marjory Stoneman Douglas, a South Floridian and Everglades activist, was the first to coin the 4 million acres of wetlands as the “River of Grass”. This River of Grass was a complex and diverse ecosystem that included uplands that

served as homes for many animal and plant species. Wading and migratory birds were so prolific they darkened the skies. Panthers, manatees and deer were abundant. These sub tropical wetlands supported a rich diversity of plants, fish and other animals. The extensive wetland made it extremely difficult for people to colonize the area and in the 1880s efforts to drain the Everglades and make the area habitable began. During the hurricanes of the 1940s the people of the region got so frustrated that they petitioned to Congress to have a system installed to control the flood waters. The resulting plan was the Central and South Florida plan (C+SF plan), passed by Congress in 1948. The goals of the project were, “to provide flood protection and fresh water to urban and agricultural lands and also to ensure water supply for the Everglades National Park”. The C+SF plan constructed 1000 miles of canals and 720 miles of levees, the flow of the water in the area was regulated by 16 pumps, 200 gates, and other water control structures. Although it seemed practical and necessary at the time of its adoption the C+SF plan has proven to be detrimental to the South Florida ecosystem. While the plan allowed for a human population increase from 500,000 in the 1900s to the 6 million it holds today, it has left the native birds and other wild life of the Everglades walking a fine line between existence and extinction. The C+SF plan changed the entire ecological makeup of the South Florida wetlands. This includes the actual flow of water through the area. The shift


in the direction water flows causes a lot of ecological problems. Mainly, there is not enough water passing through the ecosystem. A great deal of water is wasted in the C+SF plan, about 1.7 million gallons of fresh water are discharged into the ocean every day. Often the amount of water that goes into the Everglades is either too much or too little, and at the wrong times of the year. The plants in the area accustomed to a specific flow at a specific time are negatively affected by the alterations in the hydraulic system. These changes not only effect those alive now, but future generations as well. The plan shows negative long-term effects like bringing down recreational tourism that is a vital part of the area’s economy (CERP). The Everglades is the backbone of South Florida’s survival. The wellbeing of the wetlands resonates throughout the ecosystem, the Everglades provides and protects the fresh water that enables people to live and do business in this spectacular area. More specifically, it is the source of water for the 5 million people and extensive agriculture industry of the area. If the people of South Florida want water, then preservation is in order. Lake Okeechobee is the second largest fresh water lake that is located solely within the United States. This lake, which previously maintained the whole region with water to spare, is so depleted that water shortages and water restrictions are becoming routine in South Florida. The historic Everglades was said to hold 70% more water than what goes through the ecosystem today. The pollution that



seeps into the water system from agriculture and business in the area has caused an overload of nutrients. Lake Okeechobee has eutrophied, or become over productive, having a series of algal blooms that impede photosynthesis from occurring. There has also been mercury disposed into the Everglades watershed, which means that there have been millions of acres “posted with health advisories regarding the eating of fish”. The Florida Bay has stopped receiving enough freshwater and that has led to hyper saline water, or a domination of salt water in an area that should be dominated by brackish water. If not for environmental reasons alone, there are also economic incentives to saving the wetlands. The Everglades are key to the water supply in South Florida. The bottom line is that all of the problems in the Everglades and the entire South Florida region are due to poor water management by the C+SF plan. As the population continues growing, the demand for fresh water will grow as well. Unless changes are made to the water management system, water shortages will become frequent and have a bigger impact as conflicts between potential users grow. The Everglades is the source of water for at least 5 million people. The area also has a $13 billion tourist industry. This tourist industry will be kept alive only if the fish and wildlife of the area survive. The possibility of survival looks dim when there is already a decline in population of commercially and recreationally important fish.

After a couple of decades the people in charge have realized the severe damage caused by their original plan. The US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) and the South Florida Management District were called upon again. This time they were called to the table to conduct a restudy. The result of the restudy was the Comprehensive Everglades Restoration Plan (CERP). The intended purpose of CERP is to reinstate Florida’s original ecosystem while simultaneously increasing the water supply and controlling floodwaters. The fact is that immediate action is necessary and CERP seems to be the solution. CERP functions independently and will yield positive results despite the amount of effort put in, especially in the water quality area. The plan will return water flow to its natural routes and it will also improve water quality and hydro periods. The plan will remove 240 miles of levees and canals that will inversely improve the wellbeing of more than 2.4 million acres in South Florida. The use of the CERP plan will make South Florida more ecologically and economically sustainable. In fact, our ability to maintain South Florida’s economy, resources and quality of life is directly correlated to the plan’s ability to protect, increase, and manage the water sources of the area.


The Lethal Concoction of Fun, Sun and Art Words Anat Ebgi Photo Jean Inman Farrell I’ve done it again. It seems like every year around this time, I come back to Miami from New York for a brief respite, only to remember why I was so intent on leaving. It’s seductive like that. From afar, you can picture the place anew, give it a fresh coat of paint, a nip and a tuck, and suddenly, you’ve got your bikini and coke money packed tightly into a bag, ready to fly. Just as suddenly, you’ve got sunburn and a hole in your pocket, and a solemn vow that you’re never, ever doing that again. As a young girl in Miami, I remember one of Ronald Reagan’s trips to town to expand, yet again, on his successful “Evil Empire” standard. In the run-up to Ronnie’s visit, the city fathers executed a plan worthy of Mobutu or Pinochet: they temporarily hid as many of the city’s homeless and bedraggled as possible, allowing The Great Communicator to look on the city as it should be - washed clean by the crystalline drops of a trickle down economy. During Art Basel Miami, the artworld’s most prominent annual fair/convention

held in the US, we in the art community try to accomplish much the same with our own peculiar game of peeka-boo. The galleries and fairs that are perpetually popping up in formerly “uninhabitable” sections of Miami are cordoned off with bricks and barbed wire topped fencing. We hide our eyes at the unsightly and then act offended and scandalized when the locals present their own brand of “boo!” by stealing a cell phone here (as in the case of an art dealer friend), or the contents of a suitcase there (as in the case of another painter acquaintance). How rude.

I love art and artists, but I like my art awake, and when we bring the Industry of Art to Miami each winter, it is for a colossal shopping sun nap. For such purposes, my hometown is the perfect place. It’s the city that always sleeps. All that sun and sprawl makes for more shade than you would think. Memory disappears, burning off with the marine layer each morning, bringing vice and sin along. Somewhere between the Bay of Pigs and the 2000 elections, someone figured out that you can get away with just about anything in Dade County, so long as your offense isn’t being poor. I may love art, but it’s becoming more and more clear that I don’t like Miami. In fact I think I have begun to hate it. The exclusivity, the deliberate ignorance, the gated communities designed to lock out potential felons or possibly discomforting feelings (like empathy); it’s the only place I know of that cocaine acts as a sedative (then again if it’s good it always makes you numb). And the art and artists that I love don’t look so hot through Miami colored lenses. Art Basel ends up forming its own gated community, another island in a place that needs more bridges. And, as a visiting native, a curator with one foot on each side of the artistic equation (creation/ consumption), I feel like a bridge stretched to the breaking point. It might feel better to be able to say that I spent my time in Miami throwing myself against the pulleys and levers of the machinery of self-involvement, but I spent most of my trip trying, fairly unsuccessfully, to ignore the Miami in myself. I watched in slow motion as


I stepped gingerly over a homeless woman engrossed in her meal of discarded Oreos and an overripe banana outside a freshly built gallery in the freshly gentrified Wynwood district. I pretended to not be bothered by the absence of familiar faces from home. I did everything I could to suffocate the primal screech climbing up my throat in the middle of the Vanity Fair party on South Beach. I should have been thrilled. I got in. It was the hottest ticket in town and outside there was an all-night rugby match being waged as bouncers and security worked to keep the desperately seeking scenesters at bay. I was there, a member of the exclusively assembled, free to luxuriate in talk on art and politics and free drinks, but I could feel the gaze of the lonely and unrequited RSVPs at the gate, and all around them, a city that wanted in was finding all the doors and windows closed and locked, reacted with similar desperation. I got on a plane a few days later. As the jet taxied toward my terminal at JFK, I was thinking of how sad it was that I would never come back to the city I’m from, but knowing full well that I will forget, that I will return, and that next time, just maybe, it might be different.

Anat Ebgi is an NYC based curator. For Art Basel 2006, she gave out art for free. To see the results, check She probably won’t not go back next year.


Words Jake Lemkowitz Original Miami Vice Wardrobe Courtesy of The mark of Miami Vice will be on the city of Miami for all eternity. When Crockett and Tubbs first started blasting Phil Collins out of a yellow Ferrari in 1984, Miami Beach was a slum. But Michael Mann, the show’s director, made it look like a surreal Art Deco paradise by throwing up pastel paint and renovating the fronts of the buildings that were used for exteriors. All the interiors were shot in Los Angeles, but you’d never know that in real life the high-class drug dealer hotels where Don Johnson supposedly kicked it in the show were actually occupied by rats and homeless people. Philip Michael Thomas got a cut from the inside of one of these hotels and it caused such a bad infection that he had to go on an antibiotic drip.


But Miami Vice’s style was so fresh that it did what urban planners couldn’t. It created a resurgence in Art Deco and the South Beach area. As the show’s popularity grew, rundown buildings were suddenly bought up and turned into luxury hotels, Art Deco restoration groups were formed and money poured back into the city. The Art Deco revival made South Beach a hip tourist destination, and everywhere you looked there were beautiful people rocking the look that Michael Mann and the show’s stylists invented. Who would have guessed that a white sport jacket could give so much back to the community? Miami Vice was clearly ahead of its time. When episodes broke out into full-on music videos without warning, people freaked out. The show was also on the cutting edge of firearms. Michael Mann was a gun enthusiast, and police


officer Bob Halscher was kept on staff as an advisor for weapons and tactics. He trained all the principle actors in how to fire live rounds, and made sure that the characters on the show packed state of the art heat. These were not standard issue guns being used on Miami Vice. Don Johnson used an AUG Assault Rifle years before the DEA adopted it, and Colt Model IVs were standard issue for Crockett and Tubbs before the United States military ever laid eyes on them (now they are standard issue in Iraq). By 1989, the show had run its course, and it was taken off the air. Fashion had turned away from pastels towards neon colors, and the plot lines had become totally ridiculous (cryogenically frozen Rastafarians). But 20 years later, Miami Vice’s legacy lives on. Not only in the city of Miami, but in rolled up sleeves and Ray-Bans all over the world.




Shuffleboard Mavens

Words Joshua Neuman Photos Naomi Harris Model Rupert Atkin You’ve got to love a sport with money rounds, two point penalties for verbal harassment and the compulsion to stipulate that its competitors have no drinks or cigarettes in their hands or mouth while on the court.


I fell in love with shuffleboard in Daddy’s-ami, or at least that’s what I thought the name of the city was called when my father told me back in 1977 that our family “was going to Mi-ami.” I was five years old at the time and immediately won over by the little old men and women on the shuffleboard court. With their big, bad-ass glasses, I remember them reminding me of my favorite baseball player at the time, Reggie Jackson. I wasn’t old enough at the time to realize that those little old men and women were once little young men and women. I imagined that they had always been that age — that they had always had red noses peaking out

from under sailor’s caps.  I imagined that they were predisposed to success on the shuffleboard court much like the way the tall were predisposed for success on the basketball court or the big and strong were predisposed to success on a football field. The rules were easy to pick up — even for a five year old: competitors slid a puck with an iron cue along a 52 foot long and six foot wide court. At the end of the playing area was a triangle broken into five scoring areas: a front triangle worth 10 points, two quadrilaterals worth 8 points each

and quadrilaterals worth 7 points each behind them. The wide rear area was marked “10 off”, which meant that if one of your four pucks landed there, 10 points would be taken off your score. Like bocce (which I now realize is sort of to shuffleboard what a bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwich is to a pastrami-on-rye), players could knock an opponent’s puck off the court. After one “end” was completed (eight pucks shot by two players from the same end of the court), scores were tallied and it was drink and cigarette time. You can no longer find shuffleboard on South Beach as you could when I was five years old. I’m sure if I spent enough time searching I might find a group of

seniors somewhere around town, but it probably wouldn’t be the same. Certain sports just don’t stand the test of time. For whatever reason, they simply fade from contemporary life and into the realm of memory. In my lifetime alone, I’ve seen that happen to tetherball, stickball and Chinese checkers. The next time I’m in Florida I plan on visiting the Shuffleboard Hall of Fame in St. Petersburg, Florida. Apparently, if you ask one of the staffers to unlock the trailer out back, you can have a look at the irons and pucks of the sport’s most hallowed competitors. I’ll be sure to wear my sailor’s cap that day.


Illustrations Rodney Jackson Miami politicians are as crazy crooked as they get. During the 1990s, the city set a new standard for political deviance. Here’s a look back at a decade on the take.



1990 Hialeah Mayor Raul Martinez is suspended on charges of racketeering, extortion, and ballot tampering. The charges are later dropped in 1996, and for some reason they never do too much damage to his image. Despite Martinez’s suspension, he is re-elected to office twice.

1992 Commissioner Joe Bersten gets his car stolen from a crack house while he’s inside smoking rock. After spending 20 days in jail, he flees to Australia, where he still lives today.

1993 Miami Beach Mayor Alex Daoud was convicted of accepting bribes, obstruction of justice, money laundering, and tax evasion. He’s now an apartment building superintendent and is trying to sell his autobiography, Sins of SOBE.

1994 Wheelchair-bound Dade County Commissioner Larry Hawkins is accused of exposing himself to one female business associate, and groping another one from behind. The State Attorney’s office decides not to bring charges against him.

1996 Police Commissioner Miller Dawkins is videotaped accepting a $25,000 cash bribe from a Miami politico turned FBI informant. As the primary collar in Operation Greenpalm, he’s sentenced to 27 months behind bars.

1997 Xavier Suarez serves as the Mayor of Miami between 1985 and 1993. He runs for Mayor again in 1997, and narrowly defeats the incumbent Joe Carrollo. But his triumphant return is cut short when it’s revealed that some of the people who “voted” for him are actually long-dead. After 11 days as Mayor, Suarez is thrown out of office. 65 people are arrested in connection with the scandal.

1999 Hialeah Gardens Mayor Gilda Oliveros, affectionately known as “the miniskirt Mayor”, is charged with soliciting hit men to knock off her husband so that she can collect on the life insurance. She was released in 2003, and is working as a tow truck company dispatcher.



Words rakontur Productions Florida boasts beautiful beaches, perfect palm trees, bikini clad babes and stunning sunsets. Miami based film production company rakontur asks, “Why work anywhere else?” Their 2006 feature documentary, Cocaine Cowboys, examined how the cocaine trade turned Miami into the epicenter of drugs, money and murder in the 1980s, as told by the smugglers, kingpins and assassins who made it happen. rakontur’s 2001 documentary Raw Deal: A Question of Consent explored an alleged gang rape that took place at a fraternity house on the campus of the University of Florida at Gainesville. rakontur’s most recent project, entitled Clubland, is a series of 26 ‘webisodes’ dedicated to exploring the glamorous, and at times gritty, South Beach night club scene. With that much Florida under their belt, who else would we get to list their favorite ‘Made in Miami’ movies? PORKY’S (1982) Shot primarily at Fienberg-Fisher Elementary School in Miami Beach, this notorious high school sex comedy ruffled a lot of flamingo feathers down here when it opened, as officials who had permitted director Bob Clark and his crew to shoot at the school were left

deliberately in the dark about the story’s raunchy content. Most (in)famous scene: peeking (and poking) through the hole in the girls’ shower. ABSENCE OF MALICE (1981) Sally Field is a Miami reporter in this Sydney Pollack drama-thriller and


cable-staple.  See it for its Miami locations (Miami Herald building, Vizcaya Gardens, Paul Newman’s character even chills on a boat at a local marina - 3 years before ‘Sonny Crockett’) and Wilford Brimley in one of cinema’s most satisfying conclusions. CADDYSHACK (1980) The 1980s were the golden age of comedy for American film and this shining example helped ring in the decade!  Harold Ramis’ classic was shot in country clubs and marinas around Ft. Lauderdale, which not only offered panoramic shots of beautiful golf courses and the intracoastal, but unquestionably contributed to the laid back, improvisational, pot-induced comedic style of the film. ANY GIVEN SUNDAY (1999) Far from perfect, with its plot liberally borrowed from Major League, director Oliver Stone turned his reallife Miami-fetish into a football fauxepic.  Tells the tale of the fictitious professional football team the Miami

Sharks; highlights include Dennis Quaid (as a Dan Marino surrogate), colorful Miami location shooting and Stone’s trademark hypnotic editing style. BODY HEAT (1981) Having been shot just north of Miami (in Hollywood, Delray Beach and Palm Beach) did not keep this film noir classic from looking or feeling any less like our own backyard.  The sweat pours off the screen in Lawrence Kasdan’s Double Indemnity remake thanks to hot performances from Kathleen Turner (yes, she was HOT) and John Hurt and a sultry jazz-infused score by John Barry (who would later revisit this genre for the far less successful Miamishot The Specialist (1994)).

MIAMI VICE (TV series 1984-89) In “MTV Cops”, as it was known to NBC network execs, creator Anthony Yerkovich and exec producer Michael Mann milked Miami better than any motion picture or television project before or since.  Over-the-top stories,

eccentric characters, outrageous fashions, scenic locations, MIAMI VICE had it all - because Miami has it all! BLACK SUNDAY (1977) For its thrilling third act and famous climax, with a bomb-laden Goodyear blimp crashing into Miami’s Orange Bowl during the Super Bowl, director John Frankenheimer, working from the novel by Miami-based author Thomas Harris (of SILENCE OF THE LAMBS fame), weaves one the most suspenseful and intense sequences in motion pictures.  (FACTOID: COCAINE COWBOYS’ own transportation guru Mickey Munday helped build special stunt cars for the Miami chase sequence). WILD THINGS (1998) Couldn’t resist. As sleazy and cheesy as it might be (and really is), this movie just OOZES Florida - in all the right and wrong ways!   From country club princesses to swamp kids, you need a pickaxe to scrape the grime off of every character in


this story.  Bill Murray (also in our pick Caddyshack) is hilarious as an ambulance-chasing strip mall ‘abogado’, and then there’s that menage a trois scene that may have been the reason this picture was ever made. SCARFACE (1983) Need we say more? You knew the producers of Cocaine Cowboys were not gonna leave this one out!  Shot mostly in Los Angeles, thanks to meddling Miami City Commissioners who did not approve of the portrayal of Cuban immigrants in Oliver Stone’s screenplay, this epic masterpiece spectacularly sums up the deadly, tumultuous early 1980s in South Florida. More fact than fiction, Stone and director Brian DePalma managed to faithfully adapt Howard Hawks’ 1932 gangster classic of the same name and create the ideal time capsule for Miami’s “Paradise Lost” years.


Words Jake Lemkowitz Yachts are the ultimate Miami transportation. Besides getting you from place to place, they double as swank floating houses, and triple as the ultimate pick-up line: “Hey, I’ve got a yacht down at the marina. Let’s take it out into international waters.” What group of hot young college co-eds could resist? At least that’s how I imagine it going down. Truthfully, I have no idea what owning a yacht is like, and there is no possible way I will ever be able to afford one. The closest I can hope to get is owning one of Tom L. Thomas’ models. Tom L. Thomas is a master model builder who’s spent the past 12 years making handcrafted ship replicas to scale, mostly for collectors and private owners looking for a way to display their boat at home. These incredibly detailed models take months to build, and they don’t come cheap either;

ranging in price from $2,000 - 9,000. But if you can’t afford the real thing, there’s no better status symbol than a yacht in your livingroom.

Find out more about Tom’s models at





Words Jake Lemkowitz Photos Courtesy of Robusto Bustamante How do you make it across 90 miles of ocean with no money and no boat? If you’re one of the thousands of Cubans who attempt this every year, the answer is BY ANY MEANS NECESSARY. In America, “by any means necessary” translates to selling homemade mixtapes on MySpace. For Cubans trying to cross the Florida Straights to freedom, it means literally risking their lives. The homemade rafts scrapped together by refugees are a testament to the Cubans’ incredible ingenuity. These boats can be as simple as rowboats, and as elaborate as old American cars made to float and strapped with propeller engines. Although they must be constructed in secret, this is the easy part. The real test is out on the open water, where refugees have to get past sunstroke, starvation, sharks and the United States Coast Guard. It’s estimated that only one out of every three Cubans who attempts the trip makes it across.

In the past, the United States encouraged Cubans to migrate north because it pissed off Castro. The U.S. even snuck Cubans over themselves a few times. In 1960, the United States and the Roman Catholic Church teamed-up to create Operation Peter Pan. The mission was to transport the children of parents who opposed the Communist government from Cuba to Miami. Between 1960 and 1962, over 14,000 Cuban kids made the trip. Their parents were supposed to arrive within a few months, but the Cuban Missile Crisis made this impossible, stranding

8,000 children in Miami without any relatives. Hey, at least the thought was there, right? Miami’s Cuban community adopted the majority of the children. Everything changed in 1995 when the United States adopted a “Wet Foot, Dry Foot” policy towards Cuban immigration. The way it works is that any Cuban who physically makes it onto American soil is allowed to stay and apply for permanent residency. Any Cuban intercepted at sea by the Coast Guard is “repatriated”, and sent back into the waiting arms of Castro’s government. And oh yeah, the Coast Guard loves stopping Cubans from reaching America. They’ve used everything from helicopters to water cannons to ensure that the homemade Cuban rafts stay “wet”. The Coast Guard even sank one of the most inspired


refugee rafts of all time, a converted 1951 Chevy pickup, to discourage future refugees from making the trip. The United States allows 20,000 Cubans to migrate legally every year, but Castro’s government makes it extremely difficult to obtain these Visas. I guess it’s not the government’s job to recognize aesthetics, but there is something undeniably American about the craftsmanship and resourcefulness of these boats. If an immigrant is ingenious enough to build a boat out of a bombed-out truck and sail it across the ocean, they should be able to stay in the United States. If they don’t make it, they’ve always got another option: try again.


Words J. Nicely Photos Fubz Additional Images Courtesy of Pervis Young At 63 years of age Pervis Young is in 72 museums. He is finally gaining recognition after years of painting in relative obscurity, unknown by most, except the few savvy collectors and fans that took notice of his genius years ago. We meet Mr. Young at his studio/warehouse in Overtown, Miami. Among this blighted area that quickly makes you forget that South Beach is only 20 minutes away, Pervis Young’s studio is an oasis radiating powerful creativity. Entering the studio you are confronted by literally hundreds of paintings, all of the work filling his studio has been produced since December 2005. This impressive output is the standard, Pervis is a man who has been producing artwork at a prolific pace his entire life. The world at large is just beginning to catch up and take notice. He’s receiving so much attention that some dealers accuse Mr. Young of being “too prolific”, they worry that the abundance of artwork will flood the market and lower the value of his existing work. Pervis takes it all in stride, simply pointing out that “Shakespeare was prolific, and they didn’t say he wrote too much.” While we wait for Pervis to settle in, we are introduced to his friend Richard

Siskin, an art collector and civically active Miami resident by way of New York City. If there was an Official Pervis Young Fan Club, Siskin would be the president, he’s one of Young’s biggest champions and he gives us a brief lesson on what the artist is all about. “Pervis Young is one of the most pure human beings you will ever meet,” explains Siskin, “Pervis’ story is of a philosopher, he’s been a philosopher all his life, and when he paints, it’s the poetry of the streets that he’s grown up in and lived in. And because he didn’t leave there doesn’t mean that he’s not an intellectual, or highly intelligent, or worldly… Because he is what he is, looks like what he looks like, people have judged him, which is a great great mistake, because they have allowed 40 years to go by of a

genius, and not recognizing him… He’s as real as they come.” Pervis Young is seated and resting his leg, it’s covered in a cast – evidence of the health problems caused by diabetes. Several years ago he ended up in the hospital near death from complications caused by his diabetes, years of impoverished living and a lack of resources turned this manageable condition into a life threatening one. It also probably didn’t help, that his intensity and passion for creating makes painting the primary focus of Young’s life, rendering anything else, including his personal well being, secondary. These days, admirers like Siskin, and benefactors like the actress Jane Fonda, make sure that Pervis is remaining comfortable and healthy, ensuring that he will continue to produce art for years to come. With this new found support network, Young is making steady progress in both his career and in his health. Once he is well enough to travel, a tour of European galleries and museums is planned. Optimistic about the future and ready to channel the creative energy of the universe for years to come, Pervis Young sat down with Frank151, to share his thoughts on his life, inspiration, and the state of the world. Frank151: How do you feel about the world today? Pervis Young: Hey man, I feel like I was put here in this world, and I’m just playing a key part of the world, and painting the world’s problems. That’s


all I’m doing, you know. Sometimes I think I’m Michelangelo or Rembrandt. So I say, ‘No Pervis, you got to be yourself,’ so I’m myself. Trying to cope, along with the world. When I was young I spoke out. I spoke out against the police department. But as I get older I find that ain’t going to get me nowhere, talking about the system. Hey man, it’s like I say, I’m going to get me a big bottle of honey, and try to spread it all over the world, if I could. And maybe that’d help to build, get the guns, and get everything away. You know? F151: So with the art you’re really trying to change the world for the better? PY: Yeah that’s my feeling. See I’m getting to feel like I’ve been here before. But I was a Zulu Warrior, and they caught me, and my brothers sent me to America. See that’s my tribe over there. See that one right there. That’s me and my Tribesman. You see the mangers, trying to make peace among us? The angels end up trying to bring peace. Me and my brothers finna make war against one another. F151: Was that a vision that came to you about an experience in a past life? PY: Yeah, I feel like I was here before. I don’t know. I just feel like that I’ve been here. Because sometimes I paint, and it don’t seem like it’s me. I prayed to become great. And now

and then you see a halo in my artwork. That’s my father. My father tells me, ‘Walk among man. When you walk among man, obey my rules Pervis. Out of all these drugs going in the world, you paint them.’ I done been all around drugs, I ain’t never messed with it. I drink a little liquor, or wine, or good sweet wine, or something like that. I don’t mess with drugs. I see what it done to my family. Three of my brothers done died, got killed over drugs. And instead of me criticizing them people, I feel sorry

for them. For my brothers, I love my brothers. And I think about my brothers before I criticize. I’d rather paint-ify it. F151: What about the angels that appear in your artwork? PY: Maybe it’s something I fantasize. I like to paint angels. I tell you man, sometimes when I see these storms I say, ‘Man, who the hell doing this?’ And then I watch the wind blow, and I say, ‘Who the hell doing this?’ One night I was painting in the yard. Every night I could hear these birds


singing. I’d talk to the bird and I’d tell him, ‘Man you can’t sound like Count Basie. What you up there, outside singing for? Who you think you are, a Jazz band?’ And then I heard one of them birds singing all night. I’m afraid I wasn’t feeling good some nights I paint. So I said, ‘when this damn bird going to shut up?’ But I getted the word that wasn’t a bird, that was a spirit up there. Cause what damn bird going to sing all night? If a dude is a musician, he could get ideas from these birds, maybe these guys years ago done that. F151: How do you think we could make the world a better place? PY: You know me, I don’t exactly know. Anytime I look at the History Channel, it been war in the world ever since the beginning. How am I going to stop something that’s been going on thousands of years? I get fascinated into the Roman Empire. It ain’t too much different today - corrupt. F151: If there was any project you could work on, no matter the scale, what would it be? PY: You know what something told me? Make my own pyramid. When I die put my casket in the middle, and put my artwork all around me. Because you know, my master told me I can’t take my artwork to heaven. And I write around it: “I done my best on earth, when I walk among man.” I done my best, yeah, I done my best. I feel like this, you know my artwork can help mankind and the world, and it go to them. One day I bought a whole thing of chicken. And I asked my friend, do they want some of that chicken. And they said ‘no don’t bother.’ So I’m a cut

the TV on to watch the football game, and I remember I seen these little children and they were hungry. It done something to me, you know? Now here go me got a big box of chicken, I’m tired of eating it, don’t want no more, and all these people don’t want it. And these people hungry in the world. So one day I might just paint this big box of chicken, where I’m trying to feed the world. Take this big box of chicken, put it on top of the world. Have the angels trying to deliver it. I do that now, I paint big trucks carrying food to the world, and all like that. F151: When you paint the world problems, are you also trying to paint the solutions to make them a reality? PY: Yeah it helps me to face life. But I do like my paintings to help the problems, because I paint about mankind. I looked at a program in Chicago where a lady was helping pregnant women. So I painted pregnant women. F151: If there was a message that everyone could take away from this interview, what would it be? PY: All I can say is I just hope there will be peace in the world, man. There’s not nothing I can do. All I do is paint these things when I walk among man. I look at people going and coming out the building, and these drugs, and police cars. Sometimes I look toward the heaven up there and I say, man how the hell the world got like this? Sometime I say, look like the system want it this way. A lot of people say that, you know? Where they can make money, and everything. That’s what people tell me, looks like the system

“I watch a lot of educational television. I see a lot of people in prison, a lot of poor people in prison. So I paint angels coming to Earth to help people.�


want it this way. Sooner or later, you going to have problems with the havenot. You know? If you ain’t trying to better this system on Earth you gonna have problems. And I’m going to paint that too. Cause, a lot of soldiers are going to come home, and you bullshit with them, you going to have problems. You know? Cause I already heard where some soldiers’ wives are already on welfare. And them motherfuckers in Congress, probably going to do something, like they done in World War I. That thing where the soldiers wanted money. I hear that I get sad. I like to listen to the History Channel, and I see in World War I they marched for more money, and Eisenhower or somebody like that, put a stop to that. Another thing I saw on the History Channel, when they didn’t have no money during the Revolutionary War, their was an uprising. F151: Any advice to artists out there?

PY: All I can tell them is they got to stick with it, man. There is going to be some difficult days ahead. But they got to lift up the bridges and let the water go through. Just hold on man, don’t give up. F151: Are you surprised at the success you found at this point? PY: No, I’m not. I expected it. When you been around a thousand years, and another thousand years come by, they going to recognize you, man. Maybe you’ll have to wait another thousand years, you now, at the end of that other thousand years they would of, you know…

Pervis Young used to spell his name P-u-r-v-i-s. He decided to spell it with an “e” after his last operation. His work can be seen in New York City at the Daniel Aubry Gallery by appointment only, and can also be seen online at


Words & Photos Francisco Verde When it comes to stimulants and Miami, coffee probably isn’t the first thing that jumps to mind. However, throughout the city, caffeine pumps steadily through the veins of Miamians thanks in large part to Cuban coffee culture. Coffee counters can be found attached to numerous Cuban cafes and restaurants, and their walk-up windows make it easy to get a quick caffeine fix. As you venture around town, you’ll notice that drinking coffee is a social activity as you see friends sharing a colada, taking turns pouring each other hyper-caffeinated sugar saturated espresso shots into cups slightly bigger than a thimble. Miami’s Cuban community has heavily influenced both the social aspect along with the method of delivery, small servings of a super potent cafecito or cafe cubano pack a punch, they are at least twice as strong as your typical American cup of joe. This approach to making coffee was brought over from Cuba. Before the 1956 Cuban Revolution, coffee was a staple of Cuba’s economy, contributing even more revenues than sugar. In the years leading up to the revolution Cuba was annually exporting 20,000 metric tons of coffee valued at $21.5 million. However, since the revolution, numerous factors have contributed to a significant decline of Cuba’s coffee industry. Harsh climatic conditions,

out-of-date technology, and massive migration to urban centers from the countryside have contributed to deteriorated roads and a lack of an adequate work force. The loss of campesinos has even resulted in the government utilizing middle school and high school students to harvest the coffee crop. It’s been reported that Cubans today are allotted only two ounces of coffee every 15 days. Ironically, the “Cuban coffee” that is so popular in Miami today no longer comes from Cuba, it is imported from countries such as Brazil and Colombia due to the ongoing U.S. embargo on products from Cuba. However, that hasn’t stopped companies, such as Miamibased Café Pilon, from marketing their own version of “Cuban coffee” to the 1.5 million Cuban Americans living in the U.S. today. Café Pilon was founded by the Souto family after fleeing the Castro run government that had nationalized their family coffee operation which

had roots in Cuba dating back to 1865. Arriving in 1960, the Souto family reestablished their base of operations in South Florida, and today they average $70 million in annual sales. Politics and business aside, Cuban cultural traditions have prevailed, and the coffee break has emerged as a vital

social aspect of the day to day lives of Miamians. So next time you are in Miami, remember you have another option if you need to get all hopped up and pull an all-nighter. Instead of blowing a line, why not stand in line at one of the many coffee counters throughout the city, and grab yourself a nice cafecito, it’s bueno to the last drop.

Cuban Coffee – A Cup By Cup Breakdown a separate cup. Just dump the coffee Cafecito or Café Cubano into the milk when you are ready for it. Cuban-style espresso. Served in a You usually won’t need sugar, since small espresso cup, it is very strong the cafecito is sweetened already. and very sweet. Whether to sip it or down it like a shot is up to personal Espumita taste, so whichever way you prefer The first few drips of cafecito are is accepted. dripped into a pot with a few teaspoons of sugar. The person making the Cortadito cafecito will whip this mixture into Cafecito with milk added. Different sweet foam for the top of the drink. places use different ratios, so there This foam is called espumita. really is no standard. Some places use only a few tablespoons of milk while Colada others use half milk and half cafecito. A large cup of cafecito that is meant to be shared with friends, along Café con Leche with your coffee, you receive plastic Similar to a latte. You are served a cup espresso cups. of hot milk and a shot of Café Cubano in




Arté de La Callé Photos Sky Farrell




Words Jake Lemkowitz Images Courtesy of the Frank Lee Collection What happened to Jai-Alai? It used to be the most popular sport in South Florida, but today it’s on the brink of extinction. During Jai-Alai’s golden era between the 1950s and 1980s, fans and tourists came through the Miami frontons (Jai-Alai stadiums) by the thousands. Not just to watch “the fastest sport in the world,” but to get in on it. Because before casinos on Indian reservations and gambling on the Internet existed, Jai-Alai was one of the only ways for Americans to get a legal gambling fix outside of Vegas and Atlantic City. Back then, the stands were packed and the players were Miami celebrities. Now they compete in total anonymity. The sport’s last legitimate superstar, Michelena Arriaga, had his face blown in by a ball going 100+ miles per hour in 2001. After being released from the hospital a week later, he retired. Jai-Alai is an ancient Basque game whose rules are similar to handball or squash, except there are no racquets. Instead, the players use long bananashaped baskets to hurl the ball, called a pelote, at speeds of up to 188 mph. Jai-Alai is easy to understand and crazy to watch. The players literally scramble up walls to make returns, seamlessly catching and throwing the pelote in mid-air. Some claim the matches are

almost all fixed too, which adds an extra element of entertainment. The sport hasn’t changed much since the first fronton opened in Miami in 1926. Since this is its American birthplace, it’s fitting that this is where Jai-Alai is going to die. Jai-Alai could once be found as far west as Las Vegas and as far north as Connecticut, where the sport was a hot attraction. Then it turned out that the


Connecticut frontons were being run by Whitey Bulger’s Irish Mob. (Whitey Bulger is the real life equivalent of Frank Costello, Jack Nicholson’s character in The Departed, and has been on the FBI’s Most Wanted list for over a decade.) When someone figured out that the gang was skimming over a million dollars a year off of the JaiAlai profits in 1978, Bulger’s Winter Hill Mafia left a trail of dead Jai-Alai executives trying to cover it up. The frontons in Connecticut were never really able to fully recover. As for JaiAlai in Vegas, the only venue there burned down in 1980. But the sport’s real death blow came in 1988, when all the Basque Jai-Alai players went on strike to protest unfair


labor practices. Since most players are Basque, play dropped dramatically. The timing couldn’t have been worse. While the strike was going on, Miami got a basketball team, and new places to gamble began to crop up. By the time the strike was resolved three years later, the sport had lost its audience. Now there are only three frontons left. Two are in Miami, and one is an hour away in Hamilton County. The vibe at these spots can be more like an AA meeting than a party, but it’s still the fastest sport in the world, and it’s a lot cheaper than going to see the Heat play. It might not be around for too much longer, either, so get your Jai-Alai fix now, while you still can.


CHIC CHAC: A ball returned to the floor near the back wall and back to the floor.

CAROM: A thrown ball that hits the side wall, the front wall, the court, then goes into the screen.

DEJADA: A short lob, hitting the front wall just above the foul line and dropping with a small bounce.

REBOTE: Returning the ball from the back wall with the forehand or backhand.

CHULA: Ball hits the lower angle between the base of the back wall and the floor coming out without a bounce.

CORTADA: A ball thrown from outside of the court with forehand, hitting low on the front wall then on the floor.



Paradise Lost Words & Photos Jean Inman Farrell Painting Carol Garvin We’ve all heard the expression “THOSE WERE THE DAYS!” Well, when it comes to remembering Stiltsville, I can’t help but be overwhelmed with “those were the days!” feelings. During its heyday, Stiltsville provided unique experiences for those who were lucky enough to be invited to visit one of the private homes that rose from Biscayne Bay like awkward surprises in the middle of endless water. Those who were even luckier were the elite few who actually owned one of those amazing homes. Each home was totally different from the next, some a simple one room hideaway and others an architectural wonder of multi-level rooms, lofts and decks. All provided a feeling of complete wonder. Where in the world could one jump on a boat, leave a major city behind and 10 minutes later find an escape so completely removed from noise and reality, so totally serene, so primitive yet so fully stocked with amenities? “Ownership” at Stiltsville was in actuality a lease from the State of Florida for a piece of the bottom of Biscayne Bay. Rising from that bottom were great cement pilings holding even greater structures. Mine was really quite huge. There was plenty of room for an endless amount of boats to tie up

under the house in a large crib dock and around the entire perimeter of the house. Then a staircase led to the main level which consisted of a very generous living room, big bar area (of course) and even bigger kitchen. Two bedrooms provided sleeping privacy, although most overnight


visitors preferred sleeping on the giant outside decks which surrounded the entire house. A generator provided electricity, a cistern gathered water, and everything one needed to begin a party had to be carried out by boat. The operative word about Stiltsville was PARTY. One couldn’t have such a special place without wanting to share it. And boy, did we ever!!! It seems that for a period of my life I spent more time planning and executing parties at Stiltsville than I did pursuing my real estate business. Luckily, the business was easy compared to creating a perfect party day at Stiltsville. Planning an invasion of Normandy may have come close to the details required to put together a successful party in the middle of Biscayne Bay. It would begin early in the week. The trick was that each guest list had to consist of enough guests with boats who would also be willing to carry other guests who had no boat. May seem simple, but coordinating each boat load, where it would embark, when it would leave and who and what it would transport required expert planning. Coral Reef Yacht Club was a favorite meeting place. Our gang was never welcomed by other members as we jammed the parking lot and created lots of confusion when we carried in large quantities of food and drinks. One time one of our guests landed a helicopter on the front lawn, almost taking out several members by the pool when the large sun umbrellas took flight and became missiles unleashed. Lots of laughter and camaraderie developed right from the beginning as we were all “in the same boat”, so to speak. We were party-goers working against

all odds to reach our party paradise… Stiltsville. As the party hostess it was my responsibility to make sure that all the ingredients of a successful party were in place when we reached the house. That usually entailed sending out an advance man. In our case it was Johnny. Johnny had the routine down. An early morning run to set up everything, open the house, put out the furniture, put up the flags, get the kites airborne and secured to the railings, start the barbeque and pre-cook the chicken a bit. Huge quantities of ice were required in advance, running out of ice was not an option, and running to the 7-11 was not either. Making a big vat of rum punch helped deal with the drink situation, but there was always someone in the crowd who would ask for a “Tanqueray and tonic with lime”. Those were not always my favorite guests, but most were accommodated as it became a challenging test for us to have everything that anyone could think of on hand and ready. Of course a big ingredient for any party is the music. Whenever possible we preferred to have a live band to add to the ambiance. Transporting the band and their instruments was often one of the biggest headaches of the day. They were invariably late as these were daytime parties, and most bands have rarely seen the light of day, let alone been asked to arrive at some dock by 10 am and board a boat at that ungodly hour. Many times those musicians had yet to go to bed from the night before and usually began drinking as soon as they got to Stiltsville. Whatever the band wanted, they got, as we were

always so grateful that they made it there. Of course, once they set up their instruments, had a few drinks and absorbed the amazing fact that they were about to entertain people on a house set in the middle of the water, they would really get into it and the party would begin. Guests at Stiltsville arrived by boat, or sometimes by helicopter. There was no set time for beginning the party, the flow of people continued all day. Many “guests” were simply boatloads of people who would stop to see what was happening and they were never turned away. I felt that turning people away would make enemies and when you have a home that stands unprotected in the water, you want boaters and fisherman who frequent the area during weekdays and nights to feel welcome, not left out. So everyone was welcome at Stiltsville and the parties were a mixture of old and new friends, great music, hot food, cold drinks, dancing, swimming, sunbathing and even some napping. One of my favorite memories is of an amazing party when the Bahamian band was taking a break and two guests got up, each borrowing a guitar and began playing together. It became a case of “dueling guitars”. What made it so special was that each of these players were major music stars and each could really play the guitar. They choose the song “Fever” and I am sure the only person who could have done it better was Peggy Lee. But at that moment for everyone who was lucky enough to be there, a memory was created that stayed with all of us forever. There on a bright


sunlit day, with acoustics that can only be achieved by playing on the open water, Steven Stills and Dave Mason stood side by side and belted out the words to “Fever” while playing the most intricate riffs a guitar player can achieve. It seemed to go on forever, and if ever I wished for a video camera, it was at that moment. Some memories don’t make it to film and those have to become burned into one’s brain. I’m guessing that everyone who was there that day has not forgotten that special Stiltsville moment. The fact that both of these famous recording artists had come directly from Criteria Studio where they had been doing all night recording sessions may have added to the craziness that prevailed that day. Another memorable day at Stiltsville occurred one Sunday during a party when a good friend “dropped by” on a 95 foot yacht with about 50 guests. No problem. They were able to dock right next to the house, unload all their guests and spend a few hours enjoying our hospitality. After eating, drinking and meeting all of my other guests they eventually said their goodbyes and we all waved at the beautiful yacht as it headed back to Miami. Unfortunately, the captain of that boat must have been having an extra drink instead of looking at the charts, for as he navigated the channels around Stiltsville (which in fairness, could be tricky), he ran “hard aground”. Not what you want to have happen when you have 50 people aboard who are all ready to return to shore and the sun is beginning to set. No amount of wiggling could free that giant boat, they were too far away to swim back to us and too close for us to ignore. So my decision was that we


had to be responsible for getting all of those people back to Miami before dark. I asked Johnny to take our Cigarette and ferry as many people as possible. I then asked my other guests who were still enjoying the party if they would be able to stop by the yacht and take some people back with them. When Ralph Renick, our famous local TV News Anchor and good friend, lifted his head from the mini-nap he was taking and bellowed in his wellknown deep voice, “I’ll Take Two!”, I laughed so hard I couldn’t stand and I also knew that this would be one of those “Stiltsville Moments” that would forever stand out in my recollections. Since that took place over 20 years ago, it obviously has stayed with me, and always will.

For those of us who were here when Stiltsville was a place to party on the weekends, there are countless memories. Many well known people visited Stiltsville and many Miamians were lucky enough to experience it on a regular basis. Anyone who has ever visited this unique and magical place will probably always hold their memories dear, for it was not a place one can easily forget. My home vanished in Hurricane Andrew, as did many others. Not even a piling remains to mark the spot. Those that were spared in the hurricane have been reclaimed by the State of Florida and will never again be private homes. Those REALLY Were The Days!! For some of us Stiltsville lives in our memories and our stories. For those who never had the chance to visit, it is truly a Paradise Lost.


The Juice Is Still Loose Words Adam Pasulka Florida is the undisputed retirement capital of America. Many senior citizens are attracted by the state’s warm climate and surplus of leisure activities such as golf, shuffleboard and tennis. Though most Americans wait until their late fifties to cash in social security checks for oversized sunglasses and horse shoe sets, a few notoriously in-debt Americans have been forced into something of an early retirement. By relocating to Florida, they have avoided shelling out millions in legal debt and continue to live comfortable lives in luxurious homes.

Under state constitutional law, Florida homes cannot be seized and sold to pay off debt. This applies to civil suit rulings as well as bankruptcy. Article X section 4 of the Florida Constitution protects homes of unlimited value from seizure by the government no matter where the home is located in Florida. However, the home cannot occupy more than one half acre if located within a Florida municipality. If the home is outside of a Florida municipality, it cannot occupy more than 160 acres. Unlimited homestead exemption, as it is known, is also written into Texas’ state constitution. A few famous Americans who have shielded money in Florida and Texas property include actor Burt Reynolds, as well as a significant portion of Enron executives such as Ken Lay, Mark Frevert and Lou Pai. The most famous and controversial example of a celebrity protecting assets under homestead exemption is OJ Simpson. The Juice did the impossible in 1995 when he beat double murder charges for the deaths of wife Nicole Brown Simpson and friend Ron Goldman. But after being found liable for the wrongful death of Ron Goldman and ordered to pay his family $20,000,000 in damages in a 1997 civil suit, OJ had to maneuver like a true Heisman trophy winner to hold on to his hard earned money. Seeing as OJ’s professional football days were well over and his acting career had failed to make him serious bank, the only money coming to him in ‘97 was not from autographs but rather his NFL pension: $4,000,000 paid out at a rate of $25,000 a month. Ideally this income would be


taken from OJ and used to pay the Goldman’s. However, by law pension money cannot be used to cover court judgments. Though many of the possessions from his California home were seized by the government and auctioned off, these proceeds did not come close to covering the ordered amount of the civil suit. Ron Goldman’s father, Fred Goldman, looked to OJ’s California home for compensation after failing to collect from his pension and possessions. A few years after the civil suit, still not having paid his debt, OJ purchased a home in Kendall, Florida. By having done so he continues to legally protect his money from the Goldman’s. If unlimited homestead exemption seems a little unfair, what do you expect from a system with more holes than the PGA tour? As unsettling as it may be, I’d suggest keeping an eye on real estate in the Sunshine State… just in case.

Words Frank Lee Images Seth Browarnik In the land of annoying promoters, cheezy flyers, and over hyped rif-raf parties, there’s an elite group who have surpassed that stage. In Miami beach’s renowned club scene there’s only one team who can produce the aesthetics of the VIP crowds that put Miami Beach’s clubs on the map. The boys of South Beach include Paulo, Tatanka, Flip and Roy. A group of charismatic young entrepreneurs whose credibility and reputation is something that some desire, but all admire. Coming from a street background of everyday hustles, these guys have been able to corner the market of models, industry heads, musicians, artists, and all the tastemakers of today’s pop culture. Hands down! These guys run the elite scene of Miami Beach’s prestige spots like Skybar, Mokai, Prive, Mansion, Social, and more. If you make it to Miami Beach for the clubs, look no further than the all güd team for a night filled with countless model girls, cool dudes, industry leaders, and lets not forget, once you’re in with these guys, everything is taken care of... from the entrance to the bottles, just bring a blunt...

“When we was coming up there was no Rap. First shit I ever heard was Blowfly. It was that raw nasty shit that you just wanted to play over and over again...� -Rakim


Words Synapse Images Courtesy of George Chen Blowfly - The first rapper ever? The dirtiest man in music? The freakiest of the freaky? He’s quite possibly all of the above. But besides all that, Blowfly is a Miami resident and it’s been that way for years. It’s in this sunny locale where his career took flight, and when he’s not touring the country with The Blowfly Band, he can still be found playing local venues on the regular. Born Clarence Reid on Valentine’s Day 1945, he fell somewhere in the middle of his parent’s litter of 17 children. At the start of his musical career in the 60s Reid penned “clean” songs for the likes of K.C. and the Sunshine Band, Gwen McRae, and Betty Wright. He went on to develop his Blowfly persona, and based his pseudonym on a nickname given to him from his grandmother who’d curse him saying, “You is nastier than a blowfly!”

The name stuck and the nastiness oozed as the world pumped albums such as The Weird World of Blowfly, At The Movies and Porno Freak. Releasing 40+ albums over the past five decades, Blowfly never fails to satisfy our desire for dirty. As we yearn for funk, he supplies it. With a penchant for saggy breasts and homemade superhero outfits, Blowfly glides through this world both shocking and inspiring folks as they cross his path.


Beyonce, DMX, Ice Cube, P. Diddy and others have sampled his music; now get a sample for yourself of the one known as Blowfly. Frank151: What was it like growing up one of 17 children? Blowfly: I had 16 brothers and sisters. It was worse in Georgia, because we didn’t have a toilet – we had an outside toilet called an outhouse and it didn’t flush. It smelled disgusting!   F151: Did you actually write the first Rap song? B: Yes, “Rapp Dirty” in 1965.   F151: How do you feel about Rap / Hip Hop, and where it’s gone? What’s your role in it, if any? B: I invented the shit, so my role is Thomas Edison!   F151: Is it true your daughter plays in the WNBA. Do you ever go to see her play ball? B: My daughter, Tracey Reid, was the 1998 WNBA Rookie of the Year for Charlotte. I saw her a bunch of times when she was playing in Miami. She plays in Spain now.   F151: Tell us about your middle fingernail. B: It’s a long pussy fucking finger! Samson had his hair – I got my fingernails! But some bitch in Orlando bit it off a few months ago – so it’s slowly growing back.   F151: Does your hit “Shitting on the Dock of the Bay” come from personal experience? B: No, but “Scumbag Fucker” off my new album Punk Rock Party talks about me growing up in Georgia and all


the disgusting things I did, like shooting off in cops’ faces.   F151: I hear you took a break from performing a while back - why, and what was it like to come back to it? B: I like sitting on my butt and watching cartoons. Three years ago Tom Bowker, my manager, interviewed me for the paper in Miami and asked me why I hadn’t played Miami. I told him “I don’t have a band down here,” he said, “Want one?” I said, “Sure,” and we’ve been playing ever since. F151: Any significant experiences you’d like to share? B: I met Bigfoot in the Redwoods. So now I just gotta get my ass to Japan so I can finally fulfill my destiny and buttfuck Godzilla!   F151: Any funny show stories? B: We’ve had orgies with whipped cream and bisexual chicks in a daisy chain onstage in San Diego. But my favorite story is when we was in Kansas and some old maid got in the elevator, took a look at me, wrinkled up her nose like everyone farted and said, “It certainly is a weird world.” My first album is called The Weird World of Blowfly , so I told her, “You have no idea.”   F151: If you could write a song about the state of the world, what would it be called? B: Somebody else done wrote it, it’s called “Fuck You, Pay Me”.


A Day At The Beach Photos Stephanie Cerini



Users & Abusers

87 million

(Total number of orange juice buying households in 2004.)

34.2 million

(Americans aged 12 and over reported lifetime use of cocaine in 2004.)


Research Jake Lemkowitz Illustrations Adam Pasulka Orange juice is the official beverage of Florida. There’s no such thing as the official state drug, but if there was, Coke Is It! Cocaine and orange juice are two of the Sunshine State’s most lucrative import/exports. Here’s how they stack up.

Moving Weight

18,793 Kgs

(Amount of cocaine seized by the DEA in Miami in 2005.)

9.1 million

(Number of 4/5 bushel cartons of Florida oranges shipped in 2005.)

Quality Control


(Average purity of cocaine tested, by percentage.)


(The minimum amount of orange juice/puree content required for a beverage to be labeled “orange juice�.)


Street Value


(Average price for a kilogram of cocaine in Miami.)

$17- $22

(Average price per 4/5 bushel carton of Florida oranges.)

Stacking Paper


(Approx value of all Florida oranges shipped in 2005.)

= 100 million


(Approx value of all cocaine seized in Miami in 2005.)

Š2007 Converse Inc. All rights reserved. Converse and the Star and Circle design are trademarks of Converse Inc.

WADE 2.0


FRANK 28: Miami  

For the 28th Chapter of the Frank Book, Editor-In-Chief Frank Green went on an adventure to the land of fun, sun, and Tony Montana—Miami, Fl...

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