Two Different, But Equally Magnificent, Ways to Spend an Evening

I've written before about musimelange.  This is the creation of Anne Chicheportiche, a French-born violinist who lives with her husband and son in Bay Harbor Islands.  Anne is active in the local classical music scene, and she occasionally travels (well, not so much any more, with the young lad and #2 on the way), as part of her career as a professional violinist.  But on the side, about 5-6 years ago, Anne began a new venture, which she calls musimelange.  She puts on four events each year, beginning in January, and the venue is a unique place called the M Building.  (I don't know, so don't ask.)  The M Building is on the corner of NW 2nd Avenue and 29th Street.  I sometimes think the M Building was constructed to be a house, but I'm really not sure.  Some woman owns it now, and she rents it out for various small functions.  It would be a really cool place to have a wedding, and they've had them.  The M Building is decked out in weird art, and it has a few rooms on the ground floor.  There's a second story, but no one can go up there.  Yeah, part of the mystery.

Anne's evenings start at 7:30.  When you get there, you sign in.  If you didn't pay yet, it's $65.  If you paid in advance, it was $55.  If you subscribed to the whole four-event season, it's $50 per event.  Then, you mingle for a while, having excellent cheese and spectacular bread (I think it's Zak's), and eavesdropping on all the conversations in French.  Unless you came with someone, or you know someone, or you just feel like meeting someone, in which case you can have your own conversation in your own language.  At some point, usually around 7:45, the doors open, and you go in to the back room.  There's more funky art back there.  That room is like a parlor room, and it has an appendage that is a small kitchen and an island for prepping or serving.  It's at that island that the caterer for the evening (some French chef Anne knows) provides bites.  There are a few or several different offerings.  A bite in itself isn't filling, but a succession of them can be.  And you can have as many as you like.  While you do, you can take another step out the open sliding door to the patio and back yard, where all the wine is served.  Likewise, you have as much as you like.  Wine is provided by Barton & Guestier, and it's always good.  So this goes on for a while, as you continue to eavesdrop or have your own conversation-- possibly with the person you just met-- until "Act 2" begins.  Act 2 is the concert.  There are chairs set up, in the parlor room and on the patio, and couches that are always there, and one end of the parlor room is reserved for the musicians.  Sometimes, there's a piano there, if that's the ensemble for that evening.  And you listen to a concert.  It's usually some version of classical, but occasionally Anne veers in a slightly different direction.  Twice, she had Corky Siegel, who plays jazz and blues harmonica, and he sometimes plays with classical ensembles.  Wonderful stuff.  For the coming concert, on February 12 (they're always on Mondays), it's pianist Jim Gasior and his frequent musical companion, singer Wendy Petersen, doing pure jazz.  So you sit and enjoy.  The music has never been less than spectacular.  And then, when the program has been played, you meet and talk to the performers, and you have "Act 3," which is dessert.  Sometimes, it's the same chef who produced Act 1, and sometimes, it's a dessert chef.  But it's always top shelf sweets, and, as with Act 1, you take as much as you like.  These are very highly memorable evenings.  They're like having someone cook you gourmet food, and give you a concert, in your house.  No, it's not your house, and that fact will be clear to you when you try to park, but it's a very intimate and homey setting for all the high class food and wine you like, and a great musical presentation.  If you want to know more about musimelange, or arrange to attend, you can go to their site: musimelange.com.

Another way you can spend an evening is by going to downtown Coral Gables on the last Saturday of any month.  Bellmont Spanish restaurant is at 339 Miracle Mile.  Bellmont is owned by Sergio and Claudia Romero (it's been there about four years now), and it's mostly just a Spanish restaurant.  Well, when I say "just"...  The Romeros say their food is traditional Spanish.  I would say it's upscale and a gourmet version of Spanish food.  I love Spanish food, and this is the best I've had.  One of my friends who attended the Bellmont event with me once has travelled in Spain, and she says it's the best Spanish food she's ever had, too.  Sergio and Claudia built this restaurant.  Literally, up to a point.   The room is a combination of rustic and modern, incredibly appointed, and Sergio did it all himself.  Not only did he choose everything in that room, but he constructed some of it himself, too.  And he's the chef.  How he turns out those meals is frankly beyond me.  Bellmont has a normal menu, and I'm told that the usual price for dinner is about $35-$40 per person.  They also have a Miami Spice menu for the Miami Spice price of $39 prix fixe for dinner.  For the evenings I'm describing to you, the price is $69.  It used to be $59, but it was embarrassing to get all this for $59, so I'm glad they raised the price.  Alcohol, by the way, is not included at Bellmont.  But they have a very nice list, if you want to add wine to your meal.  These evenings start at about 7:30.  You can come when you like, but the show starts at 9:00, and it's nicer if you're not eating while you're enjoying the show.  (It would be even nicer if other people were not eating, while you're enjoying the show, but you don't always get that courtesy from them.)  Anyway, the meal is this:  there are two appetizers, and you get both of them; there are about five choices of main course, and you pick one (it doesn't matter which one you choose, since they're all unbelievable); there are two desserts, and you get both of them, too; I forgot to mention the bread, which comes from who knows where (OK, fine, I surrender: there is a heaven).   As for what Sergio creates, I really don't know where he gets the inspiration for these dishes.  Many of them are unique, and even the more common ones (filet mignon, paella, lamb chops) are done in an unusual and gourmet style.  One of my friends who loves steak had the filet mignon, and he said it was the best steak he ever had.  Then, at 9:00, the show starts.  This collaboration between restauranteur and performers has been going on at Bellmont for about two years.  A stage is set up at one end of the restaurant floor.  The offering is flamenco.  It's either Ballet Flamenco La Rosa, or it's Siempre Flamenco.  Occasionally, it's people from each organization performing together as a, um, melange.  (Sorry, Anne.)  This is a great show, and Ballet Flamenco La Rosa and Siempre Flamenco are excellent local companies.  The first set ends at about 10:00, and you're welcome to stay for the second set after the break.  If this interests you, you can go to their site at bellmontrestaurant.com.  If you do go, you'll see what I mean about wondering how anyone survived providing that level of food, and a flamenco show, for $59.  Well, at least it's $69 now.  It'll be more than that by the time they add in the tax and tip, but it will be money very well spent.  Go have fun.

The Domination Seems to Be Complete.

Last night's Commission meeting had trouble getting started.  It got very bogged down in the most unexpected of places: the opportunity for Commissioners to add or withdraw Agenda items.  There was something strange about that discussion.  It was both wide-ranging and aimless, rambling, meandering, and being generally tangential.  Somehow, parts of the Manager's report, and the Police Chief's report, wound up appearing in the otherwise simple, few second opportunity for a Commissioner to say he or she wanted to add a topic, or withdraw one already in the Agenda.  It was curious what this seeming delay or dodge was about.  It seemed almost as if Commissioners wanted to avoid something.

And then, there was Public Comment.  Oh.  Village resident after Village resident complained, to and about Tracy Truppman, and the Commission that apparently couldn't.  Some complained that the Village was spinning its wheels, not moving or improving itself.  Some said there was no meaningful Code enforcement, and that the appearance and condition of Village properties were suffering for it.  Others criticized Tracy personally, including of committing Charter violations.  And of course, there was mention of Tracy's simply personally commandeering the Village and what is usually its government.  Tracy had only one friend last night, at least among non-Commission Village residents.  Jeff Jones angrily countered written comments from Milt Hunter, who reportedly submitted a damning (of Tracy) letter or blog post, Jeff offering opinions of his own.

The next section of the meeting, which was now over two hours old (up to this point in a normal meeting takes about 20-30 minutes, depending on Presentations) was set aside for Commission responses to resident comments.  Oh, Tracy.  She sat out for a little while, letting Roxy Ross field much of the material, and then, Tracy pounced.  She deftly parried a small collection of the complaints, most of which were directed at her.  Her tactics mostly focused on ignoring those accusations she didn't feel like addressing, simply denying others, and lying about the rest.

One focus mentioned by a few Village residents concerned Tracy's (mis)management of what amounts to hurricane Irma damage.  One particular was Tracy's having taken it upon herself to dramatically increase the amount of money the Village was requesting in aid from the state.  Although Tracy, or any other elected representative, should never do such a thing, in this case, it mattered even more, because we have to match what we're given.  The more Tracy requested, the more we would have to come up with as a match.  Although Tracy had a dodge for that, too.  But the point is that Tracy's flim-flam included the concept of urgency and emergency, for example that she had only 48 hours to make an application to the state.  (One of the accusations Tracy ignored, and not for the first time, is why she didn't call an emergency meeting.)  So part of Tracy's footwork here was to claim she had announced this at a previous meeting (wrong).  But there was an available cure, even last night.  Tracy-- who else?-- hit on the idea that the Commission could retroactively approve, by vote, what she falsely alleges they approved in general conversational consensus whenever she alleges this conversation that never took place took place.

During the discussion of whether or not Tracy committed Charter violations, attorney John Hearn reminded that the first place a Commissioner's alleged Charter violation would be considered would be in the Commission itself.  Roxy Ross pointed out that the current Commission could not be relied upon to give honest consideration to whether or not Tracy committed a Charter violation.  Tracy owns these stooges.  They're not going to criticize her.  And we saw what Roxy meant.  Tracy quickly put together a motion that her application to the state for over $1M was agreed upon by the Commission, and it was in the mouth of puppet Harvey Bilt that Tracy put these words.  The second came from the mouth of puppet Jenny Johnson-Sardella.  Tracy quickly rammed through a vote, with no discussion.  And the vote was quickly 3.  Tracy didn't need to know what Roxy Ross' vote was, and she didn't ask.  But Roxy did take the slightly belated opportunity to ask her Commission colleagues if they had seen the document they just voted to approve.  The dumb, deer-in-the-headlights looks said it all.  So the vote was rescinded, whatever that meant, and we took a "five minute" (about 20 minutes) break, so Harvey and Jenny could actually look at what they just agreed to.  If you want to know if either of them sat at the Commission table, looking at this one page, the answer is no.  Everyone scattered.

And when we reconvened, the room was empty.  All of the non-Commission Village residents had gone home.  All but Chuck Ross, Linda Dillon, and I.  What, really, was the point in staying?  Tracy and  the bobbleheads proved Roxy right, they quickly reconfirmed their original votes, and they moved on to whatever nonsense is now Tracy's driveway Ordinance, although they had trouble taking that up, either.

Everyone now gets it.  Tracy does whatever she wants.  She says whatever she wants.  She now controls three other Commissioners, and whatever sits in the suits of the Village Manager and the Village Attorney.  Poor Janey Anderson.  Now she says she no longer supports Tracy?  Where was that insight on voting day?

Iguanas Don't Grow on Trees, You Know. They Fall Out of Them, Though.

This is a minor public service announcement.  Reportedly, iguanas climb trees, for some reason.  I don't know if they're looking for food, or what.  But up the trees they go.

The other thing about iguanas is that they are not tolerant of cold.  It hypnotizes them, or makes them temporarily sleep or hibernate, or something.

The seemingly bizarre result of these two things about iguanas is that on cold mornings, they can sometimes be found on the ground beneath trees, having fallen out of the trees, and appearing to be dead.  And sometimes, they are dead.  They could have died in their sleeps, or they could have died from impact, when they fell.  But sometimes, they're not dead.  They just haven't reawakened, because it didn't warm up enough yet.

So if you're out walking, or driving, and you see an iguana, lying still and very possibly on its back, don't bother it.  Maybe move it off the road, if it's on the road.  It might awaken, when the temperature goes up.  If it doesn't awaken, because it really is dead, some other animal will take care of the remains.

It's Time We Changed Our Codes About the Medians

Almost everything in the Village is controlled by Codes, and our public spaces are no exceptions.  Although some Village residents complained that we did not hold ourselves as a municipality to the same standards that our Codes say applies to individual residences, the Codes are the same everywhere in the Village, and they're enforced the same everywhere.

The Code for the medians is simple.  It has one main feature.  No one can park or drive on the medians.  Except...  People can request, and can be approved for, temporary parking either for themselves or on behalf of someone doing work at their house, assuming the work vehicle can't park on the homeowner's property, driveway, or swale.  Also, no one can drive on the medians, and no one can dump garbage on the medians.  Some, but not all, of the medians have signs saying you can't drive on them.

But here's the problem.  First of all, we do in fact allow temporary parking on the medians, with permission.  Second, there are generally not waste receptacles on the medians, except for a few of them that have animal waste stations, and like it or not, people clearly do dump debris in the medians.  Third, and perhaps most dispositive, and conspicuous, the medians are not generally developed in any meaningful way.  There are plantings on all of them, and those plantings are mismatched trees.  The canopy is spotty and incoherent, and there is no understory.  The ground cover is ratty grass, weeds, and open dirt.  So anyone who assumed that it was OK to drive along medians to pass a car stopped in the street, or over them to make a U-turn, or dispose of something in them, would have little to suggest this kind of usage was unwelcome.  Unless there's one of the very infrequent keep-off-the-median signs.  Those signs say something, but the evident condition of the medians doesn't seem to support the message written on the signs.  "Keep off the medians?"  Why?

Now, at risk of harping unbearably, I will say that I have made a kind of campaign of wanting the medians in BP to be more respectable, and some kind of credit to the Village, apart from the mere presence of them, but I've realized I'm talking to myself.  I have made very many public pleas for median upgrades, I have leaned hard on the Parks and Parkways Board, and I have even pleaded with the Commission, even when I was a member of  it, to create a median plan (really to task P&P to create a plan), so the Village, or even interested and ambitious Village residents, could begin proper development.  And all of my pleas have fallen on very clearly deaf ears.

I'm the only one who appears to be interested in this.  And I'm only one of about 3000 people who live in the Village.  And most of the people who live here own property here, just as I do, so they're potentially, or theoretically, as motivated as I am, and for the same reasons.  But very clearly, they're just not.

The medians look awful (I haven't heard anyone who disagrees with that), and the vast, vast majority of VBP residents have no meaningful problem with that.  Or if they wouldn't, in a perfect world, prefer that the medians look awful, they're more unwilling to do anything about it than they are to tolerate it.

So I think we should change the Codes regarding the medians.  We should take away the few keep-off-the-median signs, allow people to park or drive on them (they're a convenience to use for U-turns, if you can't be bothered to go all the way to the end of the block), and allow dumping of debris there. If it's sort of in piles, WastePro can pick it up on Tuesdays and Fridays.  What we've left ourselves at this point is the worst of both worlds: medians that look terrible, but we can't even make them useful.