I'm doing a favor for friends in Ft Lauderdale. Her mother suddenly became imminently terminally ill, there's a possible reconciliation available, and they had to scramble to get to Massachusetts ASAP. I'm keeping their dogs for a week and a half. These are big dogs. And, as my friends reminded me, I'm not a dog person. I agreed that was true, but I am a friend person. So I offered, they accepted, and I have dogs for a while.
I am reminded every day, all day, why I'm not a dog person. Either they take a lot of time, or I feel like I'm neglecting them, or both. And since I don't want them roaming through my house, they're consigned to the garage, pretty much all the time. Except when I walk them, which is way more time in the day than I want to spend fussing with dogs. And when I'm not walking them, or not home, I worry if they're OK, and not despoiling my garage. It beats worrying that they're either despoiling or chomping on something in the house, though.
Happily, my daughter and her boyfriend, who are dog-lovers, are visiting. Since I can't persuade them to move here (from Boston), an occasional visit is all I can have. Yesterday, we met my brother and his dog at a dog park. It was a sad day for my brother's dog. The dog's bad seed, instigator, destructive, terrorizing sister had just been returned to the pound that same morning, and my brother's remaining dog was a bit lost without his sister, who was clearly the leader of that small pack. The lone brother needed some consoling, and some socializing with dogs which were not the spawn of the devil. I never knew where any dog parks were, but it turns out there's one (actually two; one for smaller dogs, and one for larger dogs) at the southeast end of the Haulover complex, just over the bridge from Bal Harbour. It costs $2 to park for as long as you like. My brother said it was $2, the sign at the parking area says $6, and the attendant agreed with my brother.
The dogs appeared to have had a wonderful time at the dog park. I think it was some sort of big adventure for them. Even my brother's dog seemed somewhat and transiently interested in the other dogs. I have a sense that my friends don't take their dogs to dog parks. This suspicion was confirmed when I finally reached the husband today, as he never called back yesterday to tell me if it was OK to take the dogs to the park. He said he would have advised against taking "Mrs Peel" to the park, since she might be too aggressive. (Wrong. She had a great time. And so did her partner, "Voltaire." You can see what kinds of friends I have.)
There's a very interesting difference between walking dogs in the neighborhood and taking them to a dog park. The obvious thing is that in the neighborhood, the dogs are leashed, which they seem very much not to appreciate. They're not interested in me. They're interested in other dogs, cats, squirrels, and the subtle aromas of the excrement of other dogs. So since they're tethered, they're somewhat frustrated. In the dog park, they're completely free to be dogs, which I must say is very pleasing to me. It certainly seems so to them. But the more interesting thing is this: in the street, dogs are wary of each other. They growl, bark, and charge at each other. It seems a notable proportion of my time is spent preventing dog fights, though my friends' dogs are very friendly, to people and to other dogs. At the dog park, there is a very different democracy, or hierarchy, that is settled subtly and with surprisingly little disturbance. The dogs approach each other for the sniffing ritual, of course. There's an instant of presenting themselves to each other, in a way that looks ephemerally as if it could be forceful. But what looks like a fight waiting to happen in the street doesn't look at all like that in a park. You wonder if what happens on the street is either the dog protecting its owner, or displacing onto something else, like another dog, its resentment and discomfort at being so frequently choked for wanting a little socialization, fun, and satisfaction of curiosity. This, by the way, is one of the reasons I'm not a dog person. I don't want to dominate a dog.
We had considered a dog park in Biscayne Park. It was John Ise's project about 5-7 years ago when he lived here, and the Foundation considered it about a year or two ago. During that consideration, or negotiation, we found there was a certain amount of support for a dog park, and quite a few people who said they would delightedly take their dogs to one. The factor that killed the whole deal, though, was that no one actually wanted a dog park next to them. NIMBY. Whether that was an adjacent vacant lot, of which there were two, one of the "pocket parks," like the ones on either side of the 6th Avenue bridge, "Griffing Park," where the sculpture is, or one of the large medians.
So we remain bereft of a dog park. I never thought much about it one way or the other before, since it didn't and doesn't apply to me, but having experienced it, I really think it's a nice idea. It seems good for the dogs, and it's kind of nice for the people, too. At the Haulover park, we sit at park benches together working out the same social decencies the dogs do.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
Code Red
We've spoken before in this blog about the Village Codes (well, Gary Kuhl and Sira Ramos have spoken about them), and we're about to do it again. We're having some "issues" about the Codes.
There is one main purpose of municipal codes. They are to restrict what people can do. Without codes, anyone can do whatever he or she wants. And there are two reasons to restrict people's choices. One is to ensure stability of structures. If you need a reason that a municipality should have a say in how stable your house is, it's so your house doesn't blow apart or fall apart, into your neighbor's house. The other reason to restrict choices is to create and uphold a style and a standard for how a neighborhood looks. What's the reason a municipality should have that kind of prerogative over your private property? Because. You live among other people, in a shared place, and many such places have decided long ago that it's fair for you and your neighbors not to disturb each others' senses of place too much. And to make you feel better about BP, in some places, you can't distinguish your property at all. My ex-mother-in-law lives in a development where I have to remember her address, because I would never be able to find her house by looking. They are all identical. Even here, some decades ago, but within the residency of some people who live here now, all the houses were white, except those which were faintly off-white. Well, times have changed, but you still can't simply do whatever you want with your property. There are some color schemes you don't like, and the occasional zero lot line monstrosity which totally disrespects the concept of setbacks, but by and large we respect each other.
In fact, the whole neighborhood has a kind of theme and style to it. As a frame of reference, not only was it this way when each of us chose to live in Biscayne Park, but in many cases, it's the primary reason we chose to live here. We're essentially all residential, we have very few apartment buildings, and we have nothing greater than two stories. That's all in our Code. Also in the Code is that no one can have a fence in the front yard (though there are several or many that were approved somewhat informally decades ago, and now there are slightly looser provisions in the updated Code), and no one can have a metal roof. Even those metal roofs that look like concrete or terra cotta flat or barrel tile are not permitted. I personally worked hard to get that restriction lifted, but those who make decisions wanted it the way we have it. So it remains. The Code requires a level of maintenance of property. Right, your private property cannot be kept any way you want to keep it, whether you just like it unkempt, or you don't care, or you can't afford to keep it better. It's part of the price you pay for living in a municipality, instead of living in an unincorporated place out in the middle of the state somewhere.
As I said in the "Planning and Zoning" post, there's a balance to achieve in crafting and enforcing codes. In a neighborhood like ours, we want a standard of physical decorum, to keep a level of charm and style (let's call it class, for purpose of discussion). But we also acknowledge that people have different personal styles and preferences, and we want to accommodate a degree of individuality, too. Those are the finer points, and it wasn't my intention to dissect them too much in this post. What I do want to address are the larger themes.
Had it not been for a change in the Village Code, we would not have approved a school of any kind in the Church of the Resurrection. But our planners told us (some believe they were either mistaken or manipulative when they told it to us) we were required by the State to permit a school here, and the current Commission agreed to approve a facility of a limited type. Depending on what kind of facility the operators of the school decide to install, this addition creates a potentially significant change in the Park. Some feel the change is for the better, and some feel it's for the worse, but most agree it's a significant change. And it depended on changing the Code.
Some of us are now considering the idea of annexing an unincorporated area east of the railroad track, from about 122nd Street to about 117th Street. Most of this area is now commercial, though there are about 1000 residents, almost all renters, and there is a development that will house about 400 more, also renters. The idea, for those who favor it, is to increase tax revenues. I would say increase revenues to the Village, but with annexation, that area becomes the Village, too. It's no longer the Village as we know it. It's this plus that. It's no longer a municipality that has no commerce. It's no longer a municipality that is 70-80% homeowners. It's no longer a municipality that exists physically within a discrete upside down triangle bordered by 121st Street, the railroad track, and Griffing Boulevard. And it requires a change in the Code, as well a change in the Charter.
The proposed annexation affects the Code in another way, too. The area under consideration is not "to [our] Code" as it is. It includes tracts of land that are paved in ways our Code doesn't permit. No one would change that, and these properties would be "grandfathered in," but it creates a different look and feel than we have now. We would also have to adjust the Code to permit commercial properties and retail, since they exist there now. This in itself may seem like a small matter, since the area is not contiguous with the upside down triangle, and it's invisible to us, unless we go out of our way to go there. And we can still write a Code that prohibits commercial property in the upside down triangle.
But here's the big deal. We're looking at increasing the population of Biscayne Park by about 1400 people. They'd all be residents of Biscayne Park, just like you and I are. I have no idea how many vote, but let's say, again for purpose of discussion, it's half. So that's about 700 people. We've never gotten 700 voters in our best year under the old local voting regime. It'll get better starting in 2014, when the new system takes over, but still, 700 people is a lot of new voters. And these voters are content to live in the kind of area where they live. They're not looking for anything nicer, or better. And those residents may or may not care much about how a neighborhood, or this neighborhood, looks, but they have no reason at all to care about property values. They're renters, not property owners. Renters do not want the same things property owners do. Their stake in the neighborhood where they live is much different. They're often not looking far ahead. And the people who own rental property aren't looking for much, either. In many cases, it's been very difficult to get the owners of rental properties in BP to attend to required maintenance here.
So once they can vote in Biscayne Park, they can vote for everything the rest of us vote for. Not only Commissioners, but Code referenda. And not only do they vote for Commissioners, they can vote to become Commissioners. We've seen already what a small group of people can do to an election when it's small scale. Given enough of the right amount of organization, and an election that is small enough to manipulate, they can vote in the most improbable whack jobs you can imagine. You think 700 people who don't want what you want can't do that? Think again. They can have their way with the Codes.
I will confess to being one who would like the Codes here to be clearer and more stringently enforced. Or, in our new, friendlier parlance, better complied with. I agree with Gary Kuhl. And with Sira Ramos. And with Barbara Kuhl. And Bob and Janey Anderson. And Gage Hartung. And Andrew Olis. Obviously, they were all mistaken when they thought metal roofs wouldn't look good, but I forgive them, because what they all want, and what I want, is the best Village we can have. To get that, we have to step it up. In my opinion, expanding the church by adding a school, and annexing what's east of the tracks, is stepping it down. Is a school in the church an extra convenience for some? So some say. But with so many schools very near by, it isn't much of a convenience. And it expands and complicates the flow of traffic, which some in the Park worked hard recently to constrict and simplify. Does annexation bring in more revenue? Maybe. It depends on the tax rate. There are some envisioned rates, included as part of the planners' presentation, that result in our losing money with annexation. (If the rate remains at about 9.5 mills, we get about $280K more in ad valorem taxes per year. If we lower it to 7.5 mills, our overall increase is about $140K per year. At 5.5 mills, we start collecting less in taxes than we do now. And none of that takes into account what it costs us to have new territory to manage and monitor.) And all of this becomes harder to control once we reflect the implications of it in the Code.
There is one main purpose of municipal codes. They are to restrict what people can do. Without codes, anyone can do whatever he or she wants. And there are two reasons to restrict people's choices. One is to ensure stability of structures. If you need a reason that a municipality should have a say in how stable your house is, it's so your house doesn't blow apart or fall apart, into your neighbor's house. The other reason to restrict choices is to create and uphold a style and a standard for how a neighborhood looks. What's the reason a municipality should have that kind of prerogative over your private property? Because. You live among other people, in a shared place, and many such places have decided long ago that it's fair for you and your neighbors not to disturb each others' senses of place too much. And to make you feel better about BP, in some places, you can't distinguish your property at all. My ex-mother-in-law lives in a development where I have to remember her address, because I would never be able to find her house by looking. They are all identical. Even here, some decades ago, but within the residency of some people who live here now, all the houses were white, except those which were faintly off-white. Well, times have changed, but you still can't simply do whatever you want with your property. There are some color schemes you don't like, and the occasional zero lot line monstrosity which totally disrespects the concept of setbacks, but by and large we respect each other.
In fact, the whole neighborhood has a kind of theme and style to it. As a frame of reference, not only was it this way when each of us chose to live in Biscayne Park, but in many cases, it's the primary reason we chose to live here. We're essentially all residential, we have very few apartment buildings, and we have nothing greater than two stories. That's all in our Code. Also in the Code is that no one can have a fence in the front yard (though there are several or many that were approved somewhat informally decades ago, and now there are slightly looser provisions in the updated Code), and no one can have a metal roof. Even those metal roofs that look like concrete or terra cotta flat or barrel tile are not permitted. I personally worked hard to get that restriction lifted, but those who make decisions wanted it the way we have it. So it remains. The Code requires a level of maintenance of property. Right, your private property cannot be kept any way you want to keep it, whether you just like it unkempt, or you don't care, or you can't afford to keep it better. It's part of the price you pay for living in a municipality, instead of living in an unincorporated place out in the middle of the state somewhere.
As I said in the "Planning and Zoning" post, there's a balance to achieve in crafting and enforcing codes. In a neighborhood like ours, we want a standard of physical decorum, to keep a level of charm and style (let's call it class, for purpose of discussion). But we also acknowledge that people have different personal styles and preferences, and we want to accommodate a degree of individuality, too. Those are the finer points, and it wasn't my intention to dissect them too much in this post. What I do want to address are the larger themes.
Had it not been for a change in the Village Code, we would not have approved a school of any kind in the Church of the Resurrection. But our planners told us (some believe they were either mistaken or manipulative when they told it to us) we were required by the State to permit a school here, and the current Commission agreed to approve a facility of a limited type. Depending on what kind of facility the operators of the school decide to install, this addition creates a potentially significant change in the Park. Some feel the change is for the better, and some feel it's for the worse, but most agree it's a significant change. And it depended on changing the Code.
Some of us are now considering the idea of annexing an unincorporated area east of the railroad track, from about 122nd Street to about 117th Street. Most of this area is now commercial, though there are about 1000 residents, almost all renters, and there is a development that will house about 400 more, also renters. The idea, for those who favor it, is to increase tax revenues. I would say increase revenues to the Village, but with annexation, that area becomes the Village, too. It's no longer the Village as we know it. It's this plus that. It's no longer a municipality that has no commerce. It's no longer a municipality that is 70-80% homeowners. It's no longer a municipality that exists physically within a discrete upside down triangle bordered by 121st Street, the railroad track, and Griffing Boulevard. And it requires a change in the Code, as well a change in the Charter.
The proposed annexation affects the Code in another way, too. The area under consideration is not "to [our] Code" as it is. It includes tracts of land that are paved in ways our Code doesn't permit. No one would change that, and these properties would be "grandfathered in," but it creates a different look and feel than we have now. We would also have to adjust the Code to permit commercial properties and retail, since they exist there now. This in itself may seem like a small matter, since the area is not contiguous with the upside down triangle, and it's invisible to us, unless we go out of our way to go there. And we can still write a Code that prohibits commercial property in the upside down triangle.
But here's the big deal. We're looking at increasing the population of Biscayne Park by about 1400 people. They'd all be residents of Biscayne Park, just like you and I are. I have no idea how many vote, but let's say, again for purpose of discussion, it's half. So that's about 700 people. We've never gotten 700 voters in our best year under the old local voting regime. It'll get better starting in 2014, when the new system takes over, but still, 700 people is a lot of new voters. And these voters are content to live in the kind of area where they live. They're not looking for anything nicer, or better. And those residents may or may not care much about how a neighborhood, or this neighborhood, looks, but they have no reason at all to care about property values. They're renters, not property owners. Renters do not want the same things property owners do. Their stake in the neighborhood where they live is much different. They're often not looking far ahead. And the people who own rental property aren't looking for much, either. In many cases, it's been very difficult to get the owners of rental properties in BP to attend to required maintenance here.
So once they can vote in Biscayne Park, they can vote for everything the rest of us vote for. Not only Commissioners, but Code referenda. And not only do they vote for Commissioners, they can vote to become Commissioners. We've seen already what a small group of people can do to an election when it's small scale. Given enough of the right amount of organization, and an election that is small enough to manipulate, they can vote in the most improbable whack jobs you can imagine. You think 700 people who don't want what you want can't do that? Think again. They can have their way with the Codes.
I will confess to being one who would like the Codes here to be clearer and more stringently enforced. Or, in our new, friendlier parlance, better complied with. I agree with Gary Kuhl. And with Sira Ramos. And with Barbara Kuhl. And Bob and Janey Anderson. And Gage Hartung. And Andrew Olis. Obviously, they were all mistaken when they thought metal roofs wouldn't look good, but I forgive them, because what they all want, and what I want, is the best Village we can have. To get that, we have to step it up. In my opinion, expanding the church by adding a school, and annexing what's east of the tracks, is stepping it down. Is a school in the church an extra convenience for some? So some say. But with so many schools very near by, it isn't much of a convenience. And it expands and complicates the flow of traffic, which some in the Park worked hard recently to constrict and simplify. Does annexation bring in more revenue? Maybe. It depends on the tax rate. There are some envisioned rates, included as part of the planners' presentation, that result in our losing money with annexation. (If the rate remains at about 9.5 mills, we get about $280K more in ad valorem taxes per year. If we lower it to 7.5 mills, our overall increase is about $140K per year. At 5.5 mills, we start collecting less in taxes than we do now. And none of that takes into account what it costs us to have new territory to manage and monitor.) And all of this becomes harder to control once we reflect the implications of it in the Code.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Here Comes Biscayne Park
I'm very pleased to note, and to report, that the trees in the median in my block have been trimmed. I've thought for a long time how overgrown and profuse those oaks looked, and been frankly aggravated at seeing their lowest branches crowding the street, so that even small trucks couldn't get by without scraping them. I had wondered what was the best method of pruning trees like that, and I thought of doing it myself, if I knew how. Well now it's done, professionally, and the trees look just great. It was an expert job, the result being that the trees look strong and majestic, just as our future canopy should look. Thanks much, of course, to our Manager for getting around to this. The medians in the next couple of blocks west are also done, and the plan is Village-wide. It's just what we needed, and it will help our sense of enjoyment in the neighborhood, as well as the sense of value. Now all we need is definitive attention to the understory.
During my morning walk yesterday, I was listening to WLRN/NPR, as I always do. They're in the midst of their latest fund drive. You get a little bit of news, judiciously sprinkled into the seemingly endless drone of flogging listeners for contributions. One of the techniques, or tactics, used by the fund-raisers is to acknowledge some of the listeners who just contributed. So at about 7:40, I learned that "Joanne from Biscayne Park" contributed. About 15 minutes later, it was "Alberto from Biscayne Park" who gave. And we're talking about a fund drive that intensively covers three populous counties. Tiny Biscayne Park was cited twice in 15 minutes, out of the millions of people in those three counties? When I met up with my friend Chuck Ross later in the day, he told me he had become a "sustaining member," too, that same morning. If his name was announced, I was already done with my walk, and I didn't hear it.
We have a lot of potential here. And I don't think it takes so much to realize it. We're doing ourselves proud, as a "Tree City USA" for three years running. And we're arranging a suitable system of cared-for medians to mark the fact. With a little more attention and application, we're as good as the best. We have one piece of public art, owned by the Village, and there's no reason we can't have more. All it takes is resolve and a little bit of money. Public art says a great deal about a community and how it sees itself and values itself. We're even famous, in our modest way, as the home of dedicated listeners of the local public radio station. It's not only that it's true: it's that south Florida has been told so and knows it.
I donate to WLRN, too, like Chuck and Roxy Ross do. I also donate to WDNA, the community radio station down on Coral Way at about 30th Avenue. It's mostly jazz and ethnic or roots music. Once a month, on the third Friday of the month, they have a live jazz concert, in the lobby of the station building. It costs $15 a person to go to a concert, but if you're a "member," which you can be for $50 a year, you and a guest can go to all of the monthly concerts. But the concerts are "sponsored" by someone each month, too. I asked the station manager, or maybe she's just the organizer of the concert series, and she said the cost of sponsorship is about $1000 for a concert. It's not what you would call cheap, but it's doable. I was thinking whether a small group of people might like to pool $1000, and do a good deed for WDNA, or even whether it would sound good to say an evening was sponsored by the Village of Biscayne Park. It could be worth a thought.
We are, in our way, on the map. If we keep it modest and strictly local, with smart and pleasing medians, we've done ourselves a very good job, and something to be proud of. If we should happen to be known for something other than "Isn't Biscayne Park the place with the 'Don't Even Think About Speeding' signs," it's not a bad thing, either. We happen to have lots of creative people living here. There are many artists, musicians, way more architects than you would guess, and people who are simply artistic in the broad sense. We're modestly endowed, and the limit is far short of the sky, but there are things we can do to make ourselves not only happy, but prouder. Maybe we can even crow a bit. An interesting mural on the wall of the raquetball courts at the park might just be the next place for us to show what we can do. Perhaps we can go even a bit further than that in an effort to make ourselves a special place, the "better place to be."
During my morning walk yesterday, I was listening to WLRN/NPR, as I always do. They're in the midst of their latest fund drive. You get a little bit of news, judiciously sprinkled into the seemingly endless drone of flogging listeners for contributions. One of the techniques, or tactics, used by the fund-raisers is to acknowledge some of the listeners who just contributed. So at about 7:40, I learned that "Joanne from Biscayne Park" contributed. About 15 minutes later, it was "Alberto from Biscayne Park" who gave. And we're talking about a fund drive that intensively covers three populous counties. Tiny Biscayne Park was cited twice in 15 minutes, out of the millions of people in those three counties? When I met up with my friend Chuck Ross later in the day, he told me he had become a "sustaining member," too, that same morning. If his name was announced, I was already done with my walk, and I didn't hear it.
We have a lot of potential here. And I don't think it takes so much to realize it. We're doing ourselves proud, as a "Tree City USA" for three years running. And we're arranging a suitable system of cared-for medians to mark the fact. With a little more attention and application, we're as good as the best. We have one piece of public art, owned by the Village, and there's no reason we can't have more. All it takes is resolve and a little bit of money. Public art says a great deal about a community and how it sees itself and values itself. We're even famous, in our modest way, as the home of dedicated listeners of the local public radio station. It's not only that it's true: it's that south Florida has been told so and knows it.
I donate to WLRN, too, like Chuck and Roxy Ross do. I also donate to WDNA, the community radio station down on Coral Way at about 30th Avenue. It's mostly jazz and ethnic or roots music. Once a month, on the third Friday of the month, they have a live jazz concert, in the lobby of the station building. It costs $15 a person to go to a concert, but if you're a "member," which you can be for $50 a year, you and a guest can go to all of the monthly concerts. But the concerts are "sponsored" by someone each month, too. I asked the station manager, or maybe she's just the organizer of the concert series, and she said the cost of sponsorship is about $1000 for a concert. It's not what you would call cheap, but it's doable. I was thinking whether a small group of people might like to pool $1000, and do a good deed for WDNA, or even whether it would sound good to say an evening was sponsored by the Village of Biscayne Park. It could be worth a thought.
We are, in our way, on the map. If we keep it modest and strictly local, with smart and pleasing medians, we've done ourselves a very good job, and something to be proud of. If we should happen to be known for something other than "Isn't Biscayne Park the place with the 'Don't Even Think About Speeding' signs," it's not a bad thing, either. We happen to have lots of creative people living here. There are many artists, musicians, way more architects than you would guess, and people who are simply artistic in the broad sense. We're modestly endowed, and the limit is far short of the sky, but there are things we can do to make ourselves not only happy, but prouder. Maybe we can even crow a bit. An interesting mural on the wall of the raquetball courts at the park might just be the next place for us to show what we can do. Perhaps we can go even a bit further than that in an effort to make ourselves a special place, the "better place to be."
Friday, March 15, 2013
Is MiSO the Best Ticket in Town? Arguably, It Is.
If all you're looking for is the best in symphonic music, performed by a first rate orchestra and under the direction of a talented conductor, you won't have much trouble finding it. Go to the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the New York Philharmonic, the Cleveland Symphony Orchestra, or any of a number of organizations, and you will be pleased. Come to the Miami Symphony Orchestra, and you'll get what you're looking for, too.
But if you want an unusual selection of pieces, ones you won't hear anywhere else, and you want to be engaged, personally engaged, by an orchestra and its artistic director, then you won't be happy anywhere but Miami. All top tier conductors are good. Many of them are at least somewhat dynamic. But how many of them wear blue velvet slippers for the first half of the concert, silver slippers with sparkles for the second half, and draw your attention to the fact that they're wearing red sparkly slippers tonight, as if you couldn't tell? And how many interact with the orchestra as if they were on the floor with it more than they are on a podium before it? How many conductors will wait while people deal with the cell phones they forgot to silence, or while stragglers seat themselves, or while audience members remember they forgot something and have to leave the hall ("she's a friend of mine," he tells us), all the while making affectionate sport of these disturbances with body language and expressions that are part Roberto Benigni, part Gene Wilder, part Marty Feldman, and part Victor Borge? Deadpan, but funny and charming. That's Eduardo Marturet, the genius behind the MiSO. And he's not kidding. He's very much for real. He gets intensely engaging sound out of his orchestra, too.
He also chooses surprising pieces, not at all part of the usual symphonic canon. Sunday night, March 3, it was Rodrigo's Aranjuez, but arranged for harp and orchestra. And if listening to and looking at Kristi Shade play Aranjuez wasn't enough of a treat on its own, she threw in a little encore, all by herself. That's like the MiSO concerts at FIU, where both times I've been there, the intermission was used to feature remarkably good organ arrangements, played by extremely talented organists.
Was the orchestra perfect? No, I guess it wasn't. Maylin Rete's English horn tone was slightly imperfect, though the playing was excellent. She's listed in the program as being on a leave of absence, so maybe being back from her leave has left her embouchure faintly rusty. And one of the two trumpets had a slightly off embouchure himself, on one note in the third movement of the Rodrigo. On the other hand, Isabel Thompson, who often plays bass clarinet, and is never closer than third string on B flat clarinet solos for the orchestra, was remarkable on B flat solos Sunday night. This was, by the way, a trimmed down ensemble, looking something like an early Baroque band. The full orchestra has almost 90 pieces. Sunday night, there were less than 50. And in typical Marturet fashion, everyone who soloed at all, got special attention from him when the piece was over. He walked down into the orchestra, and each person who soloed, concertmaster Danny Andai, the first violist, whose name I don't know, and anyone at all who distinguished him- or herself was asked to stand. The audience was duly appreciative.
So back to the question: Is MiSO the best ticket in town? It's not the cheapest ticket in town. It's less than any other symphony, though, and the quality is up there with the Cleveland and the New World. It's a better show than any other symphonic event, what with the interesting range of pieces and the floor show from Marturet. The face value of my ticket, which was for a very good seat, was $69. I don't know if it was less because it was part of a season ticket purchase, but it sure was less after I got the season on a 50% discount they were running. So for $35 or less, for the seat I had? Heck, yeah, it's the best ticket in town.
But if you want an unusual selection of pieces, ones you won't hear anywhere else, and you want to be engaged, personally engaged, by an orchestra and its artistic director, then you won't be happy anywhere but Miami. All top tier conductors are good. Many of them are at least somewhat dynamic. But how many of them wear blue velvet slippers for the first half of the concert, silver slippers with sparkles for the second half, and draw your attention to the fact that they're wearing red sparkly slippers tonight, as if you couldn't tell? And how many interact with the orchestra as if they were on the floor with it more than they are on a podium before it? How many conductors will wait while people deal with the cell phones they forgot to silence, or while stragglers seat themselves, or while audience members remember they forgot something and have to leave the hall ("she's a friend of mine," he tells us), all the while making affectionate sport of these disturbances with body language and expressions that are part Roberto Benigni, part Gene Wilder, part Marty Feldman, and part Victor Borge? Deadpan, but funny and charming. That's Eduardo Marturet, the genius behind the MiSO. And he's not kidding. He's very much for real. He gets intensely engaging sound out of his orchestra, too.
He also chooses surprising pieces, not at all part of the usual symphonic canon. Sunday night, March 3, it was Rodrigo's Aranjuez, but arranged for harp and orchestra. And if listening to and looking at Kristi Shade play Aranjuez wasn't enough of a treat on its own, she threw in a little encore, all by herself. That's like the MiSO concerts at FIU, where both times I've been there, the intermission was used to feature remarkably good organ arrangements, played by extremely talented organists.
Was the orchestra perfect? No, I guess it wasn't. Maylin Rete's English horn tone was slightly imperfect, though the playing was excellent. She's listed in the program as being on a leave of absence, so maybe being back from her leave has left her embouchure faintly rusty. And one of the two trumpets had a slightly off embouchure himself, on one note in the third movement of the Rodrigo. On the other hand, Isabel Thompson, who often plays bass clarinet, and is never closer than third string on B flat clarinet solos for the orchestra, was remarkable on B flat solos Sunday night. This was, by the way, a trimmed down ensemble, looking something like an early Baroque band. The full orchestra has almost 90 pieces. Sunday night, there were less than 50. And in typical Marturet fashion, everyone who soloed at all, got special attention from him when the piece was over. He walked down into the orchestra, and each person who soloed, concertmaster Danny Andai, the first violist, whose name I don't know, and anyone at all who distinguished him- or herself was asked to stand. The audience was duly appreciative.
So back to the question: Is MiSO the best ticket in town? It's not the cheapest ticket in town. It's less than any other symphony, though, and the quality is up there with the Cleveland and the New World. It's a better show than any other symphonic event, what with the interesting range of pieces and the floor show from Marturet. The face value of my ticket, which was for a very good seat, was $69. I don't know if it was less because it was part of a season ticket purchase, but it sure was less after I got the season on a 50% discount they were running. So for $35 or less, for the seat I had? Heck, yeah, it's the best ticket in town.
Food and Tunes, 3/15/13
Surprise! Surprises. I have to confess the Foundation is a bit weak right now, and it's feeling a bit weak. We're down to three members, one of whom is new, and we lost the two who happened to be most involved in setting up Food and Tunes. So it was a slightly daring ambition we had, and required the jobs of three yeomen, to pull off a Food and Tunes Friday evening. And it wasn't the smoothest of sailing, either. (Psst, you wanna be on the Foundation? We need members.)
We managed to arrange a band, which was Dave Wilder's "No Dice." They played for us once before, and they were well received. We also got two food trucks. Our first one ever, Jefe, was there, and a crowd favorite, "Fat Man," was back. I don't know who Jefe really is, but Fat Man is Ben Nelson. Mr Nelson is a spectacularly good cook, and he's a wonderful guy.
Announcements were late, and there was confusion about the time. Some announcements said the start was 6:00, and others said 6:30. And we just crossed into, or out of, daylight savings time. And it was getting cool. And the band was late. And few people were there by 6:00, or 6:30, or approaching 7:00. And then...
The music started. And the lines at the food trucks started. And people started to arrive. By 7:30, "the joint was jumping." It really was. The regulars were there, and new neighbors were there, and even some people who don't live in BP heard us and came by. There was frankly a nice crowd, and people really enjoyed the food and the tunes. Everyone had a good time. (This is exactly what Food and Tunes is supposed to be.)
We also had two musical guests, as the SNL people say. One was Mike Gerber. He and his wife, Atlanta, have been BP residents for many years. Mike happens to be an upper echelon pianist, specializing in jazz (had played with all the big names), but very capable in several genres. During No Dice's break, Mike played an original jazz piece, then Bach, then some country/western pieces, one of which was in response to a request. Mike is a remarkable pianist, whom some musically sophisticated Park residents had heard of, and he and his wife/agent/singer Atlanta would like a Food and Tunes date for themselves. Yikes!
The second guest was a young girl who sang. Alone. Gorgeously. I didn't know singing like that could come out of the throat of a girl who probably isn't 12 yet. Most impressive.
We did our 50/50 raffle. We would have made a modest but solid amount of money, except that the winner, Dale Blanton, donated his winnings back to the Foundation. And not only did the food trucks do reasonably well, but each vendor was so happy that each donated more than the requested 5%.
We broke even, even without a major sponsor or anything unusual to raffle off.
Does it get better than this?
We managed to arrange a band, which was Dave Wilder's "No Dice." They played for us once before, and they were well received. We also got two food trucks. Our first one ever, Jefe, was there, and a crowd favorite, "Fat Man," was back. I don't know who Jefe really is, but Fat Man is Ben Nelson. Mr Nelson is a spectacularly good cook, and he's a wonderful guy.
Announcements were late, and there was confusion about the time. Some announcements said the start was 6:00, and others said 6:30. And we just crossed into, or out of, daylight savings time. And it was getting cool. And the band was late. And few people were there by 6:00, or 6:30, or approaching 7:00. And then...
The music started. And the lines at the food trucks started. And people started to arrive. By 7:30, "the joint was jumping." It really was. The regulars were there, and new neighbors were there, and even some people who don't live in BP heard us and came by. There was frankly a nice crowd, and people really enjoyed the food and the tunes. Everyone had a good time. (This is exactly what Food and Tunes is supposed to be.)
We also had two musical guests, as the SNL people say. One was Mike Gerber. He and his wife, Atlanta, have been BP residents for many years. Mike happens to be an upper echelon pianist, specializing in jazz (had played with all the big names), but very capable in several genres. During No Dice's break, Mike played an original jazz piece, then Bach, then some country/western pieces, one of which was in response to a request. Mike is a remarkable pianist, whom some musically sophisticated Park residents had heard of, and he and his wife/agent/singer Atlanta would like a Food and Tunes date for themselves. Yikes!
The second guest was a young girl who sang. Alone. Gorgeously. I didn't know singing like that could come out of the throat of a girl who probably isn't 12 yet. Most impressive.
We did our 50/50 raffle. We would have made a modest but solid amount of money, except that the winner, Dale Blanton, donated his winnings back to the Foundation. And not only did the food trucks do reasonably well, but each vendor was so happy that each donated more than the requested 5%.
We broke even, even without a major sponsor or anything unusual to raffle off.
Does it get better than this?
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Commission Meeting: March 5, 2013
I was waiting for inspiration, but I waited in vain. It was a very long meeting with very little meaningful content.
The Village agreed to join forces with Bay Harbor and up to five other municipalities in creating an energy conservation zone. The result of this is that homeowners who want to make improvements that will increase energy efficiency can get 20 year loans for the work, which will be overseen and approved by the organizer, and those loans would be at 6.9% interest (if taken today) and would be repaid through an addition to property taxes. The selling points are the oversight provided by the organizing agency (private), and that people who could not necessarily get a bank loan, for one reason or another, will much more easily get the loan from this group.
The Commission agreed to review the Charter, but not for a while. The next review will not commence until 2014, and reviews will occur every eight years. This did not suit Bryan Cooper, who is trying desperately to figure out how to oust Bob Anderson, and is promoting term limits to get Bob out. BP residents are apparently way too pleased with Bob for Bryan's liking.
We're getting a pre-school at the church. Barbara Watts figured we would wait and see if we were satisfied. She didn't make clear how she thought we would get rid of such a school if we weren't pleased, once it was there.
Noah Jacobs decided he was a little gun shy after all about challenging Linda Dillon on his new pet, the weapons ban, so the matter was postponed, or something.
The crew approved most of the State Legislature's relevant initiatives, except the one that Noah didn't understand. Roxy tried to explain it to him, but he still didn't get it. So he pulled out his good stuff, and he agreed to vote for the Resolution, but only if Roxy took out the item that scared him.
There was discussion about the mural many of us would like for the raquetball court wall at the recreation center. Barbara Watts was all excited about something, but what it was seemed to get lost in a haze of red tape. We can have a mural, but it's not clear who's going to pay for it, and only on condition that some unidentified group of people, considered by someone or other to be "experts" in art, like it.
Noah got the crew to agree with him to install a computer station or something at the recreation center. The station is to be outfitted with donated computers, beginning with what would otherwise be Village throw-aways. There was some varying theory about who would use such a station. First, it was people who are interested in using computers, but don't have one. Right, I don't know of any such people either. Then, it was kids, who were fantasized as using the computer to do their homework. During their after school recreation activities. I guess if Issa Thornell thinks these kids are going to learn team sports or fitness, he can think again. The discussion dissolved when there was talk of who was going to pay for toner, paper, and repairs. But the idea passed anyway. The last time someone had an idea this good, there was a fantasy that someone in the Village might be a shut-in, because they had no transportation. So the Village bought a van that no one rode, and then we sold it. But kids are known for the care they take of equipment that isn't theirs, so it'll all probably work out well.
We're going to have a celebration for Earth Hour, which will occur on a coming Saturday at 8:30. I can't remember which Saturday. Barbara Watts would like to see us whoop it up a bit, with folk music or some other acoustic sounds. She suggested we find money, to pay the band, and we had to arrange to plug in the amps and mikes. Now Earth Hour is a celebration for an hour starting at 8:30 PM, and the idea is to turn off all your power for the hour. Amps and mikes? Oh, corrected Barbara, the music will be acoustic. (It seems she's already chosen the performers.) But we can make an exception for the mike and amp. Oh, you made that rule, did you? OK.
Noah, in an act of extreme decency and respect, took Dale Blanton, a long time and very dedicated resident and member of Code Compliance, off that Board (one of our two most important Boards), and he replaced Dale with Carmen DeBernardi. The last time Noah appointed Carmen to a Board was his appointment of her as an alternate to this same Board. She'd had an established pattern of not attending meetings before, and she continued that pattern on Code Compliance. Noah had been advised publicly, by me, not to appoint Carmen, because we needed reliable members on Code Compliance. But he went ahead anyway, and Carmen didn't attend. Some people, though apparently not necessarily Noah Jacobs, would learn something from that. Now, Noah has elevated Carmen, who he says told him she wants to be on Code Compliance (what more impressive qualification could there be than that?), at the expense of the very reliable Dale. It's almost a curiosity what goes on in Noah's head, but I don't think I want to know. Gary Kuhl wanted to know, though. He asked Noah if he really intended to dump Dale for Carmen. Yup, said Noah. But Carmen doesn't come to meetings, Gary cautioned. So, replied Noah. As I said, extreme decency and respect. And the highest regard for the Village and its functioning.
The only other interesting issue, for me personally, was Bryan Cooper's assertion that in comments I made about the school in the church, I "stretched the truth." I don't think that's a particularly subtle way of calling me a liar. Well, the school's attorney wasn't there to cross-examine me (this was "quasi-judicial," and I was under oath,) so I offered to submit myself to cross-examination by Bryan, since he seemed to be sitting on some pretty hot material. But damned if he didn't completely lose interest. I figured if he was going to call me a liar in public, during a Commission meeting, while I was under oath, he'd have something killer incriminating to make good on. Nope. It was very unsatisfying. It's enough to make you lose faith in the genius of Bryan Cooper.
There was good news about the meeting, though. Rosemary Wais made her special crumb cake (great, as always), and someone else, whose identity wasn't revealed, made a terrific dish with stewed pears and a crusty sugar and cinnamon topping. Spectacular. The trick was eating it, and not throwing up from the meeting.
The Village agreed to join forces with Bay Harbor and up to five other municipalities in creating an energy conservation zone. The result of this is that homeowners who want to make improvements that will increase energy efficiency can get 20 year loans for the work, which will be overseen and approved by the organizer, and those loans would be at 6.9% interest (if taken today) and would be repaid through an addition to property taxes. The selling points are the oversight provided by the organizing agency (private), and that people who could not necessarily get a bank loan, for one reason or another, will much more easily get the loan from this group.
The Commission agreed to review the Charter, but not for a while. The next review will not commence until 2014, and reviews will occur every eight years. This did not suit Bryan Cooper, who is trying desperately to figure out how to oust Bob Anderson, and is promoting term limits to get Bob out. BP residents are apparently way too pleased with Bob for Bryan's liking.
We're getting a pre-school at the church. Barbara Watts figured we would wait and see if we were satisfied. She didn't make clear how she thought we would get rid of such a school if we weren't pleased, once it was there.
Noah Jacobs decided he was a little gun shy after all about challenging Linda Dillon on his new pet, the weapons ban, so the matter was postponed, or something.
The crew approved most of the State Legislature's relevant initiatives, except the one that Noah didn't understand. Roxy tried to explain it to him, but he still didn't get it. So he pulled out his good stuff, and he agreed to vote for the Resolution, but only if Roxy took out the item that scared him.
There was discussion about the mural many of us would like for the raquetball court wall at the recreation center. Barbara Watts was all excited about something, but what it was seemed to get lost in a haze of red tape. We can have a mural, but it's not clear who's going to pay for it, and only on condition that some unidentified group of people, considered by someone or other to be "experts" in art, like it.
Noah got the crew to agree with him to install a computer station or something at the recreation center. The station is to be outfitted with donated computers, beginning with what would otherwise be Village throw-aways. There was some varying theory about who would use such a station. First, it was people who are interested in using computers, but don't have one. Right, I don't know of any such people either. Then, it was kids, who were fantasized as using the computer to do their homework. During their after school recreation activities. I guess if Issa Thornell thinks these kids are going to learn team sports or fitness, he can think again. The discussion dissolved when there was talk of who was going to pay for toner, paper, and repairs. But the idea passed anyway. The last time someone had an idea this good, there was a fantasy that someone in the Village might be a shut-in, because they had no transportation. So the Village bought a van that no one rode, and then we sold it. But kids are known for the care they take of equipment that isn't theirs, so it'll all probably work out well.
We're going to have a celebration for Earth Hour, which will occur on a coming Saturday at 8:30. I can't remember which Saturday. Barbara Watts would like to see us whoop it up a bit, with folk music or some other acoustic sounds. She suggested we find money, to pay the band, and we had to arrange to plug in the amps and mikes. Now Earth Hour is a celebration for an hour starting at 8:30 PM, and the idea is to turn off all your power for the hour. Amps and mikes? Oh, corrected Barbara, the music will be acoustic. (It seems she's already chosen the performers.) But we can make an exception for the mike and amp. Oh, you made that rule, did you? OK.
Noah, in an act of extreme decency and respect, took Dale Blanton, a long time and very dedicated resident and member of Code Compliance, off that Board (one of our two most important Boards), and he replaced Dale with Carmen DeBernardi. The last time Noah appointed Carmen to a Board was his appointment of her as an alternate to this same Board. She'd had an established pattern of not attending meetings before, and she continued that pattern on Code Compliance. Noah had been advised publicly, by me, not to appoint Carmen, because we needed reliable members on Code Compliance. But he went ahead anyway, and Carmen didn't attend. Some people, though apparently not necessarily Noah Jacobs, would learn something from that. Now, Noah has elevated Carmen, who he says told him she wants to be on Code Compliance (what more impressive qualification could there be than that?), at the expense of the very reliable Dale. It's almost a curiosity what goes on in Noah's head, but I don't think I want to know. Gary Kuhl wanted to know, though. He asked Noah if he really intended to dump Dale for Carmen. Yup, said Noah. But Carmen doesn't come to meetings, Gary cautioned. So, replied Noah. As I said, extreme decency and respect. And the highest regard for the Village and its functioning.
The only other interesting issue, for me personally, was Bryan Cooper's assertion that in comments I made about the school in the church, I "stretched the truth." I don't think that's a particularly subtle way of calling me a liar. Well, the school's attorney wasn't there to cross-examine me (this was "quasi-judicial," and I was under oath,) so I offered to submit myself to cross-examination by Bryan, since he seemed to be sitting on some pretty hot material. But damned if he didn't completely lose interest. I figured if he was going to call me a liar in public, during a Commission meeting, while I was under oath, he'd have something killer incriminating to make good on. Nope. It was very unsatisfying. It's enough to make you lose faith in the genius of Bryan Cooper.
There was good news about the meeting, though. Rosemary Wais made her special crumb cake (great, as always), and someone else, whose identity wasn't revealed, made a terrific dish with stewed pears and a crusty sugar and cinnamon topping. Spectacular. The trick was eating it, and not throwing up from the meeting.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Oy.
I embarked on a project today. I've felt increasingly fed up with the performances, and they're certainly that, of our apparent replacement Village attorney, Eve Boutsis. She talks too much, she insinuates herself (well, intrudes) into discussions where she's not called upon, she seems to be at meetings for the primary purpose of drawing attention to herself, and she often has no useful advice, except to tell us war stories from her jobs with other municipalities, and to use those failures (they're usually failures) to tell us we might as well accede to whatever it is now.
So I wrote to John Hearn, our one-time usual attorney, to ask him if he's still, as they say, on the case. Or on our case. I told him the pattern of representation suggested he might no longer be working with us, and if he isn't, he should resign. That way, we could replace him, instead of his informally replacing himself.
John wrote back to say he is most definitely still representing us, and he plans to be back in his chair as of April. Coincidentally.
Now I have to say, in the fullest of candor, that John's reappearance, if he does in fact reappear, is not without some complications. There are some people who, no matter what they think of Eve, have felt it may have been time for a change anyway. That is to say, not everyone was entirely pleased with John in the first place, and may at some level have welcomed his unavailability.
One of the people with whom I shared today's project told me that whatever are Eve's stylistic drawbacks, she serves the purpose of advancing meetings, so we can find our way to the end of them.
So that's it? We have to hire a babysitter, or a regent, to do the job our Mayor can't manage to do, and it costs us $165 an hour? Who knew babysitters, or tutors, got that kind of money? Maybe a competent Mayor would have been able to figure out we needed an attorney other than Eve Boutsis or John Hearn. But we didn't choose a competent Mayor. Oh, wait a minute, we didn't choose a Mayor at all. He himself and his two little buddies chose him.
Where's Michael Piper, and a real Mayor, when you need them?
So I wrote to John Hearn, our one-time usual attorney, to ask him if he's still, as they say, on the case. Or on our case. I told him the pattern of representation suggested he might no longer be working with us, and if he isn't, he should resign. That way, we could replace him, instead of his informally replacing himself.
John wrote back to say he is most definitely still representing us, and he plans to be back in his chair as of April. Coincidentally.
Now I have to say, in the fullest of candor, that John's reappearance, if he does in fact reappear, is not without some complications. There are some people who, no matter what they think of Eve, have felt it may have been time for a change anyway. That is to say, not everyone was entirely pleased with John in the first place, and may at some level have welcomed his unavailability.
One of the people with whom I shared today's project told me that whatever are Eve's stylistic drawbacks, she serves the purpose of advancing meetings, so we can find our way to the end of them.
So that's it? We have to hire a babysitter, or a regent, to do the job our Mayor can't manage to do, and it costs us $165 an hour? Who knew babysitters, or tutors, got that kind of money? Maybe a competent Mayor would have been able to figure out we needed an attorney other than Eve Boutsis or John Hearn. But we didn't choose a competent Mayor. Oh, wait a minute, we didn't choose a Mayor at all. He himself and his two little buddies chose him.
Where's Michael Piper, and a real Mayor, when you need them?
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