A Dog Park, Nipping at Our Heels Again

Apparently, there's been some talk among participants of Nextdoor Biscayne Park, regarding a dog park in Biscayne Park.  For whatever reason, two people have brought it to my attention, and neither has a clear memory of the dog park in BP story.  So here's the most recent of it.

I moved here in the middle of 2005.  Not long after that, and apparently already ongoing, there was public discussion of a dog park here.  The spokesman/ringleader was John Ise, who eventually moved to Miami Shores.  I see him at one place or another from time to time.  Anyway, John represented a small(?) group of BP residents who wanted a dog park in the Park, and somehow, John was proposing to raise money to create one.  I'm told, by the way, that this effort was not the first here.

It's unclear to me what the money was intended for, unless it was to erect necessary fences, or maybe create a water supply, too.  In any event, John and his partners did not succeed in raising the money, and the issue receded.  There was an appeal to the then Commission, presumably for permission to establish such a park, if the funding was successful, and the Commission did not disagree.

A few years later, when I was on the Foundation, we were talking about possible goals for fund-raising-- that is, possible special projects and Village enhancements for which we could raise money-- and the matter of a dog park was reintroduced.  John and his family had already moved to MSV by then, so he himself was not a principal advocate.  A couple of other people were, though, but I can't remember who they were.

The Foundation accepted this project, and we agreed that this would be our stated fund-raising goal.  First, though, we had to specify where this dog park was to be.  We needed a specific site, for advertising and interest-inducing purposes, and we needed to know how large a proposed site would be, so we would know how much fencing, for example, we would have to buy.

We had some meetings, very open to the public, to entertain ideas as to where a dog park could be installed.  One proposal was the triangle bordered by Griffing Boulevard, 6th Avenue, and 15th Street.  It's the area known as Griffing Park, and it's where two sculptures now are.  We had doubts about that spot, because of concern regarding access.  It would be a bit treacherous to walk there, and there wasn't a good and ready place to park.  We were also concerned that a dog park in that part of the Park, where our grandest entrance is, might not be attractive.  So we dismissed that site as a possibility.

There were also, at the time, two vacant lots either of which the Foundation could have purchased to convert into a dog park.  And there are several large medians in various places in the Village.  We could have converted one of those into a dog park.  These were the kinds of sites we considered.

Before we could take the idea to the Commission, for approval, we had to choose a particular site.  This consideration was what the open meetings were for, apart from confirming that there was enthusiasm enough for the concept.

The Foundation discovered something interesting.  Several BP residents wanted there to be a dog park here, in the Park.  They said they would like to walk or drive their dog(s) to such a park.  But not one BP resident would agree to have a dog park next to his or her house, including in the median in his or her street.

That's where the last consideration of a dog park in BP died.  Great idea, love it, but "NIMBY"



PS: There are no more empty lots here.  Well, maybe there's still one near the top of Griffing, but it no longer has a for sale sign on it.  The Foundation could never have raised enough money to buy a house lot anyway.

Late Again. I Don't Know Why I Bother to Get Out of Bed in the Morning. Aldi. And Tim Tierney.

I have overlooked Aldi.  I watched it being built.  Roxy Ross told me it was a nice and interesting grocery store.  I saw Aldi in Massachusetts.  Very recently, Tim Tierney told me in detail about the deals at Aldi.  Yesterday, I finally decided to drop in.  Aldi is a strange, interesting, advantageous place to shop.  Or to look.

Aldi is set up almost like a big box store, except it's very small.  It's a lot of boxes of things, and prices are tenuously, and seemingly temporarily, displayed.  There are many off brands, some likely to be unfamiliar store brands.  And prices are very low, just as Tim said they were.  A bag of potato chips is about $1.50 for the usual size, the one that costs $2.50 on sale at Publix.  Berries (blue, black, and rasp) are under $2.  Hass avocados are 79 cents, if you buy them individually, or $1.99 for a bag of three.  The best price at Publix is $1.00 each on sale.  At Costco, it's about the same, or maybe 80 cents each, if you buy a bag.  Several of the wines were $4.99 or less.  I asked one shopper if she had bought wine there, since that's what she was shopping when I was there.  Yes, she confirmed, and the $4.99 Malbec was excellent, according to her.

I couldn't identify the clientele.  Many of them look like the people who shop at President supermarket on 125th Street.  One guy was wearing a hot pink wig of women's-looking hair, he had his toenails painted bright red, he was wearing a very colorful print "top," and he had tattoos up his neck.  Another guy, with a long ponytail, was way more friendly, and outspoken/loud, than was necessary in a grocery store, and he let me know that the pastries were highly addictive.  The pastries-- cookies, croissants, and similar pastries,-- by the way, were very cheap.  My new friend declared them to be very tasty.

I decided to make an introductory purchase.  I settled on five avocados and three bottles of wine.  I got the avocados individually, because the individual ones seemed to be larger than the ones combined in bags.  I needed three more bottles of wine like a hole in the head.  No, wait, I need a hole in the head more than I need three more bottles of wine.  But so be it.  I want to know how good these $4.99 bottles of wine are.  If you're as curious as I am, come over, and let's share one.  I have no idea how I'm going to get through all the wine.  I hope my children are adventurous about their inheritance.

You might want to bring your own bag to Aldi.  The alternative is you pay them 10 cents per plastic bag, 6 cents per paper bag, or you buy their reusable canvas bag for $1.99. Or you can buy a reusable canvas bag from Publix for 99 cents.

My other recent failing was in overlooking Tim Tierney.  I decided to explore impact-resistant windows.  I have accordion shutters, but Chuck and Roxy Ross have reassured me that their new impact resistant windows are much better.  They do not have to be manipulated in order to work, as accordion shutters do, they block temperature transfer, thereby lowering the electric bill, and they block lots of noise.  I got one estimate several months ago, but it was much more than I was willing to pay.  Someone working in the neighborhood came to my door soliciting a week or so ago, I accepted a visit to provide an estimate, and that estimate was significantly lower than the first.  So I agreed.  I didn't see how I could do better.

I was telling this to Chuck Ross, when he suggested I ask Tim Tierney.  I knew Tim did this kind of work in the past, but I thought he had transferred himself to a different business.  That's why I never asked him in the first place.  Because Chuck thought Tim was still in the impact-resistant window business, I contacted Tim.  Tim came by, and he sent me an estimate a few days later.  I calculated this would work, because I had three days to cancel the other contract.  But the windows Tim proposed to install were not the same as those of the other company (FHA Home-Improvement Associates), and FHA insisted their windows were better than the ones Tim suggested.  I got back to Tim about this, and I asked him for an estimate using the other windows.  Tim did not, by the way, disagree that the other windows were good.  And the other windows have twice the warrantee.  Eventually ("eventually" becomes the operative word), Tim got me an estimate for the same windows that FHA recommended.  The price was about half of what FHA charges.  I could give you FHA's explanation, but as best I can read between the lines, it's a bunch of song and dance and misrepresentation. And they invoked the "we've already ordered your windows [it's past your three-day window to cancel]" clause, so I'm stuck overpaying them.  I missed out on a chance to contract with Tim.  FHA tell me I'll be very happy with their product and their work.  I have no doubt this is true.  But I also think I would have been very happy with Tim's product and work, and I would have saved a great deal of money.  So if you want impact-resistant windows, call Tim at 954-391-9725 or 305-443-7160.  As a frame of reference, Tim has bought, renovated, and sold at least a couple of houses in BP, and the results of his work are very, very impressive.

The Death of Antonin Scalia

It's been news all week, but I just heard more of the story on NPR.  I don't mean the story of Scalia's death.  I mean the story of his recent life, the connections he formed, and some of the reaction to his death.

Part of the reaction to Scalia's death has come from quarters like John Boehner, recent Speaker of the House of Representatives, and Mitch McConnell in the Senate.  A number of conservatives feel the way Boehner and McConnell say they do.  According to Boehner, President Obama will not, or certainly should not, be allowed to choose the next occupant of Scalia's seat on the Supreme Court.

Interestingly, though, Nina Totenberg, in talking to a range of people, including other conservatives, and even conservative Federal Judges, learned that the latter tended to consider it a big problem not to fill Scalia's seat, and as quickly as possible.  Their concern was for the best functioning of the Supreme Court.  People like Boehner and McConnell appear much more concerned with political maneuvering, and their tactics would jeopardize the Court, and the country, in favor of partisan posturing.

In talking about Scalia, Totenberg told us what we already knew.  Scalia was a very outgoing man.  He had friends everywhere.  Among fast and true friends was Ruth Ginsburg, just to take one example.  As Totenberg put it, Scalia had a gift for friendship.  He was as catholic as he was Catholic (very much of each) and very democratic though not at all Democratic.  As Totenberg also put it, Scalia felt that a life devoted to anger was a waste of time.

It's a shame to lose sight entirely of the big picture, because some get caught up in defending a theory, or a piece of a theory, or just the totem or the mascot that is associated with one facet of a piece of a theory.  People who do that lose the human interaction part of the process.  They lose the connection to the people who are supposedly represented by the theory, at least in theory.

There's no denying that Scalia was a smart man.  Apparently, lots of people liked him very much, too.  I, for one, don't miss him.  Whatever he brought some people through his gift for friendship, he took away from others through his strict interpretation of the Constitution, which, according to Totenberg's summary, he did not consider a "living document."

I wonder if it was a dilemma for him: trying to defend a document that he considered not alive, when doing so compromised people who were.  It's a dilemma for me, when I balance overall welfare against the needs or wishes of individuals.

Ni.Do. Caffe (Not Neato)

Harvey Bilt and I were talking restaurants a week or two ago.  He mentioned some I hadn't yet tried, and the new installation of Ni.Do. Caffe was among them.  I've been to the other Ni.Do. Caffe, on Biscayne at about 73rd Street, but I hadn't yet visited Ni.Do. Secundo (If you haven't seen the movie "Big Night," you should), at the old North 110/Tunky-Tunky (Biscayne at 110th).  Why Ni.Do. Caffe wants a second store just a few miles up the same street is a mystery.

I suggested Harvey blog these (Ni.Do. Secundo and Pinch) himself, but he didn't want to.  So I figured I'd leave it for some future time.  That time came last night, 2/14/16.  It was Valentine's Day, my companion and I had just been to a Seraphic Fire concert (amazing) at South Miami-Dade Cultural Arts Center, and we needed dinner plans.  We were supposed to meet friends of mine in Ft Lauderdale, but the restaurant we chose jacked up the prices for Valentine's Day, and my friends don't eat that late anyway.

My companion and I decided on a plan of our own.  We bypassed Pollos Y Jarras in downtown Miami, in favor of Zaika on NE 123rd St.  We called ahead, to be sure they were open.  They told us they were.  What they didn't tell us until we got there was that there was a 40 minute wait, which at that time of day was not of interest.  So we thought of Pinch.  If Harvey wasn't going to blog it (he and Vicki like it), I figured I would.  Oddly, Pinch seemed to be open when we passed it first, but they didn't answer the phone when we called, and online said they were closed.  Maybe they were hosting a private party.  It was getting later, Ni.Do. Secundo was nearby, and they said they were open, so we decided to swing that way.  We had just had Italian food for dinner the night before, but what the hell, Italians have Italian food for dinner every day.

We got to Ni.Do. Caffe around 8:00.  They asked if we had reservations.  This struck me as an odd question, since they had many vacant tables, inside and outside, but no, we did not.  It was even more odd when the maitre d' seemed to give great consideration to what to do with us.  He could have made a sweeping gesture with his hand, and told us to sit wherever we liked.

We were seated at a very small table, not genuinely big enough for two people, and we were presented with menus.  I'm not sure whether it was portentous, but the menu informed us that "Ni.Do." stands for Niente Domani, or "There is no tomorrow."

There may be no tomorrow, but there are apparently two Ni.Dos., and they're related.  It turns out the owner of Ni.Do. Caffe hired a second chef, and the new one is from a different part of Italy.  He has his own preferred recipes, and the owner lets each chef cook however he wants.  He seems to have given each chef his own restaurant.  They're the same idea, but different.  Ni.Do. Secundo seemed more casual than Ni.Do. Primo.  It has rustic decor, raw-looking wood floors, and a television set on the wall.  It was unclear what this television set represented, since the sound was not on, and whatever was on was not interesting to watch.  There was also an open refrigerator installation that contained various raw and prepared foodstuffs, apparently for purchase.  It was like a little grocery store in a restaurant.

And then, who was our waitperson?  The maitre d' seated us and immediately turned us over to some woman who seemed to be the waitress.   But it was the maitre d' whom I later informed that we were ready to order, and it was he who took our order.  The woman came back and asked the obligatory question: did we want "regular" water, or did we want the kind you have to buy.  "Regular" was fine, and there were two other people, plus the "waitress," who irregularly refilled our glasses.  I'm guessing we would have gotten better service if we had paid for water.  Yes, I am aware this is snide.  I have not, however, had an opportunity to be proven wrong.  I will also say at this point in the story that the service was almost uniformly poor.  There were lots of people flitting around, but I was not persuaded that this activity was actually purposeful.

We ordered one salad and one pasta dish, both to share.  We agreed to receive them at the same time.  In retrospect, this was a mistake.  But who knew?  In the meantime, we waited.  Why, you might ask yourself (I'm now reading Tristram Shandy, and I can't help the digressions), did I use up a whole sentence, just to say we waited?  Why, indeed.

While we waited, I became acutely aware of the lack of bread.  This is crucial for two reasons.  One is that I am a hound for bread.  The other is that Ni.Do. Primo serves spectacular bread.  The third of the two reasons is that we were getting distinctly hungry.  So I asked.  Oh, yeah, they off-handedly and perhaps grudgingly conceded, sure, they do serve bread.  Remember I mentioned waiting?  It was hard to tell whether they were somehow too busy, or they just weren't that interested.

At some point, a new character appeared.  He was somewhat larger than most people, he was dressed like a cook, and he emerged from the kitchen.  He looked around, then he retreated to the kitchen.  I had in mind that he might be the chef, taking a moment to survey his outer domain, but that he lacked the nerve to say hello to the patrons.  Then, he came back out, and then, he went back in.  This happened a third time, too.  But the third time was a bit different, because he somehow had plates of food in his hands, and they were our dinner.  He brought them over.  I guess he was server #5.

Now, consider a tiny table, the usual accoutrements (salt, pepper, bottles of oil and vinegar, a votive candle, etc), two plates, two glasses of water, and now the addition of two dishes of food.  Never mind that there were no plates for us to use for sharing (we had already said we intended to share).  The fact is, there wasn't room.  We were unable to navigate with this condensed clutter.  We asked for the plates to use for sharing, and this, of course, had to result in the removal of the bread plates.  This might not seem like a big deal, to you (it was to me), but the loss of the bread plates was mitigated by the fact that the bread wasn't delivered to us yet anyway.  Not much of a consolation.  Until we eventually did receive bread, which was a very far cry from the magnificent bread Ni.Do. Primo serves down the street.  But dividing the dishes, and having room for anything, was still a major problem, and it remained so until we were eventually done and could have the plates cleared.  Which was a bit of a story in itself.  I was relieved to have finished my dinner, and what my companion, who eats like a bird, didn't eat of hers, and to have been able to pile dishes upon dishes, to make the collection of plates vertical, since horizontal was increasingly unbearable.  At that point, one of the water-servers asked me if I was done, and if he could remove the plates.  The completely empty plates.  The ones I stacked for him.  Yes, I told him to feel free to remove them.

The bill came in a little wooden box with a lid.  My companion considered this "cute."  Not so much, for me.  Once you add your credit card, they take the box away, then they bring it back with the original bill, your credit card, a pen, and two copies of the credit card bill (one for them, and one for you), there is no more room in the little wooden box than there was on the table.  I was so happy to be able to leave.

My companion saw a silver lining.  I asked her what it was, and she suggested that the food was "good."  I'd go as far as not bad, but I wasn't sure I could make it all the way over to good.  The salad, for example, she said, was "good."  What did you like about it, I asked?  The cheese, she pointed out, and the dressing.  They were "good."  My companion is a professional writer.  She writes fiction.  Humor fiction.  And she is personally a "foodie," and she likes to write about food.  No one ever committed "damning with faint praise" like this particular individual offering no more than that the food was "good," exemplified by salad dressing that was "good."

The spinach salad, with pear, "Gorgonzola" (tasted like goat to me), endive, and "Raspberry-Gorgonzola vinaigrette") was OK.  "Good?"  Maybe.  $13?  No.  The whole wheat bigoli pasta with vegetables (essentially primavera) was fine.  "Good?"  Probably.  $16?  Maybe.

For my money, it's Ni.Do. Primo from now on.  If you want something done right, Harvey...

I'm Probably Late to the Goodyear Party

One of my tires was losing air.  I usually go to Firestone on 163rd Street for tires, just out of habit, and that's where I went today.  I've gotten service there before, and I've bought tires from them before.  My guess, and my hope, were that I only had a nail, and therefore, I only needed a patch.  In my experience at Firestone, I was looking at a $20 intervention.  It would just be a matter of waiting for them to do the work.  I had to ask whether this was patchable, or would I need a new tire, and how long would I be waiting when I brought the car back later.

But there was only one person working the counter, I only saw one mechanic working on cars, and I had to get home in time for a phone call.  Just waiting to ask the questions was going to take too long.  I solicited a recommendation from Chuck Ross, who reminded me about Goodyear at 12850 W. Dixie in North Miami, and I decided to stop off there.

I told Omar my problem, and he immediately found the nail.  And it was in a good spot not to need more than a patch.  I confirmed with him the price I imagined Goodyear would charge: "about $20?"  No, Omar replied.  It's free.  But I didn't want a patch put on for free.  It costs time and trouble to put on a patch, and I didn't want Goodyear to go without proper compensation for the job.  I asked Omar why Goodyear wouldn't charge me for this service, which was of value to me.  Because we want you to come back for other service, he explained.  Well, I'm going to do that even if you do charge me $20.  No, it appeared, that was not the deal with tire patches at Goodyear.  You just don't pay for them.

I looked at the menu on the overhead (they're very smart at Goodyear), and I found something I could use: three years worth of alignments.  It's about the same price they charge at Firestone.  I asked Omar to put that on my bill, and of course, it was the only thing on the bill.

So I left the car with Omar and Goodyear.  But I still had to get home quickly for my phone call, and at this point, I no longer had time to walk.  No problem, apparently.  Omar gave me a ride to my house.

Later, when the car was ready, having had a tire patched and the wheels aligned, I walked up to Goodyear.  I paid, and I was told the car was either out front, or it was around the side.  I had to go look for it.  They were "very busy," and had lots of cars ready to go.

I didn't fully recognize my car at first.  It was too shiny.  It turns out they washed it, too.  Also for free and without ever having told me this, too, was part of the service.

If you need tires, or mechanical repairs, and you don't use Richie Strassberg for the latter, please use Goodyear.  They're quick, they're convenient, they're competitive, and they couldn't be more accommodating.   You can call them at 305-891-4648.

Ni.Do. Caffe - Like it or Not

            Out of town visitors love trying new restaurants.  Such an invitation was extended when my companion, Fred Jonas, and I ended up at a charming-looking Italian spot called Ni.Do. Caffe (Two) a few blocks up from its counterpart, Ni.Do. One.

            As we drove up, the little twinkling lights seemed warm and welcoming, and they were a nice come-on to those whose appetites were waiting to be whetted. Like a sexy woman who enjoys flaunting her stuff, Ni. Do. Caffe might have provided the perfect ambiance were it not for a few glaring flaws:

One, the overhead TV set seemed more fitting in a sports bar than in an Italian restaurant striving for intimacy.  And two, trying to decipher who our server would be was a study in futility.  We could place bets, but our growling stomachs did not allow for such frivolity.  After an afternoon of a stunning Seraphic Fire, Mozart’s Requiem concert, and a few failed attempts at some other eateries (it was Valentine’s Day, and places were booked) we were starving and wanted to get down to the business of food consumption.

We were finally seated at one of the vacant tables. The Maitre D’ was gracious enough, though he seemed a bit frazzled trying to get it all right by accommodating all of his customers simultaneously.  Ditto for our waitress, an attractive young woman with a charming Italian accent.  She was equally eager to please, but she wasn’t exactly sure how to execute that plan with enough aplomb to carry it off without a few faux pas.

While we scanned the menu of gastronomic delights including Formaggi, Antipasti, Insalate, a huge selection of tempting pizzas, and a pasta list as long as an ample thread of linguini, we decided to share a whole wheat Bigoli - a sort-of primavera pasta dish - and a spinach salad.

While we waited for our food, we had a perfect view of the mini-grocery “store”/refrigerator nestled off to the side, and featuring many of the Ni.Do.’s offerings including their olive oils and wines.  Were it not for the noise, my companion and I might have engaged in meaningful conversation, but the acoustics being what they were, it was more “what did you say?” and “I can’t hear you” that were exchanged between us.  Not exactly the perfect Valentine’s Day lingo that we ladies prefer.

It was then the real fun began, which had to do with the word: “share.” Apparently, Ni.Do. Caffe’s idea of sharing means distributing plates designed for bird-type eaters, but not for men with gargantuan appetites.  And even though I eat sparingly, this was bordering on inappropriateness to seem almost insulting,  

The dishes were not split (as requested), but served together in two separate bowls, sans serving utensils.  Add to that the bread basket, which was more a straw box (cute), which was jaw-dropingly disappointing in its bread allotment, though tasty enough.

On the plus side, once we maneuvered the pasta and salad to our small plates, making room for slices of bread and a smidgen of olive oil, we forged ahead with gusto.  I found the pasta to be decidedly delicious, and the salad dressing and Gorgonzola cheese to be as good as it gets. 

Memory lapses also reigned supreme among the servers, as evidenced by our pleas for water, which finally arrived in all its tap water splendor, but only filled up half my glass.  Our server forgot to return to refill the other half, bringing to mind the metaphorical famous quote: should we look at “the glass as half full or half empty?”

Much in the same way, we can interpret Ni.Do. Cafe as a half-empty-half-full experience.  It was full of expectation, some of which was satisfied by the food and well-meaning, though clumsy, attempts by the servers, to make our stay as pleasant as possible.  On the half empty side, like all new restaurants, this one being only four months old, some of the kinks need to be worked out.

On the whole, however, and feeling generous, I would say that Ni.Do. Caffe Two tries hard.  They just need to take it down a notch with the noise, and step it up with the service.  The proof of the pasta, to paraphrase, is in the eating. 

You Just Can't Make This S**t Up.

An e-mail everyone in Citizens' CrimeWatch received tonight from Chuck Ross.

CCW OF BP,

This is the second time we are reporting the theft of a loaded gun left in an unlocked car, that's the second time too many; there is no excuse for this.    

Please read the messages below from Chief McKenna regarding the Gun theft and house burglary.

Chuck Ross

MESSAGE FROM CHIEF MCKENNA--THEFT OF GUN on January 14th

A person house sitting a residence on Griffing Blvd near NE 121st St left his pickup truck unlocked when he parked it.  The next morning, this person discovered a thief had entered his UNLOCKED pickup truck and taken a fully loaded 9mm semi-automatic handgun.

If you leave a gun in your vehicle, you are putting your community at risk. If you leave a gun in your UNLOCKED vehicle, it isn't simply a concern that crime will occur with the stolen gun, it is that dire consequences including the injury or death of innocent people including children can and does happen!

No guns should EVER be left in an UNLOCKED vehicle.

HOUSE BURGLARY:   Window left open - sometime since 2PM yesterday - 10700 Block of NE 9th ave. -  copper wiring was taken. 

​​

I RECEIVED THIS EARLIER TODAY FROM ADRIAN IN THE UES--TAIL GATE LOCK

​ A suggestion to truck owners, Masterlock makes a very simple to install lock that secures the tail gate to the truck, it costs ($15-$20) depending on where you buy it.

(model # 5283) 

Chuck Ross, CCW of BP, Chair

Remember if you see something suspicious, if it's an Emergency, do not hesitate, call 911 (and never insert yourself in the situation), if not call the MDC Non-Emergency number 305-476-5423, that's 305 4 Police.  If you are not sure do not hesitate, call 911.

​  ​

Keep your cars locked.

Help Wanted.

Too frequently, as it happens, some Village residents complain that they don't like the way one thing or another is being done in the Village.  Part of their complaint is that they feel unheard, unresponded-to, not duly part of the process.

Most of our Advisory Boards are adequately composed, although from time to time, we need new members, as some resign for one reason or another.  At the moment, we have something of a crisis on the Biscayne Park Foundation.  We have had resignations, including of the Foundation's longest-serving member, and there are now not enough Foundation Trustees to make a quorum.  Meetings cannot be held.  So the Foundation is now looking for new members.  It needs three.

This is a perfect time for Village residents to come forward, and not only to join a devoted group of other residents, but to remake the face of a very special Village "Board."  No one can be on more than one Board, although an exception was once made for one Board member who then joined the Foundation, so it would more likely be that someone who is not active, or maybe has not been active, will step up and offer service to the Village.  We might even solve two problems at the same time, if someone who perhaps complains of not feeling part of the process helps us revive a Board in trouble.

The Foundation has unique responsibility and latitude in the Village.  Its mandate is broad and unspecified, and it is charged with identifying and solving special areas of enhancement in the Village.  It raises the money to achieve these opportunities for enrichment.  The Foundation is a place for people with more than the usual vision for the Village, and creativity as to how to realize that vision.

As with other Boards, interest in the Foundation is established through application for membership.  The contact person is the Village Clerk, Maria Camara.  You can go see her at Village Hall, or you can call her at 305-899-8000.  There is some urgency to fulfillment of the Foundation, as it can no longer act without more members.  A planned event for February has been canceled, because of a lack of adequate membership on the Foundation.  Applications can be expedited.

The Village needs your help, participation, and dedication.  If you've felt marginal, or if you've marginalized yourself, this is a wonderful opportunity to make what can be a very big difference.  And you'll be welcomed with open arms.

Benefit of the Doubt? Alaska Coffee Roasters

My daughter took the very early flight from Boston today.  She got off the plane at 9:00 AM and was hungry.  I was hungry.  It's New Year's Day.  I thought we should do something special.  We discussed, I made some calls, and we settled on Alaska Coffee Roasters, at 13130 Biscayne Boulevard.  It's been mentioned to me a few times, always with great enthusiasm, and it seemed just the occasion to give it a try.  And they were having a special holiday menu.  What could be better?

We arrived at about 10:45.  The place was less than half full.   The special holiday menu included eggs Benedict with Nova Scotia salmon.  My daughter loves Nova Scotia salmon.  She specified that wherever we went, they would have to serve Nova Scotia salmon.  And here it was, part of the holiday special.  What, in fact, could be better?

We ordered two eggs Benedicts with Nova Scotia salmon.  And a side order of hash brown potatoes, which are a favorite of mine.  The regular eggs Benedict were about $9.75, and the version with the salmon was $11.75.  The side of potatoes was $2.50.

After what seemed like longer than I thought it would take, our eggs were ready.  So were we!  Nope, they were the regular eggs Benedict, not the ones with salmon.  We sent them back.  Salmon was the whole point.  My/our potatoes were served at the same time.

If they couldn't have included potatoes with entrees, and if they had to charge separately for them, the saucer of potatoes presented to us should have been worth 50-75 cents.  Rounding up to $1.00 would have been pushing it.  No way that tiny amount should have cost $2.50.

My daughter and I began a somewhat lengthy exploration about what each of us does when things are not right at a restaurant.  She resolves never to go back, and she gives them something they don't want on Yelp!  I'm somewhat more inclined to say something, but I temper my confrontation.  I said I never ever send things back.  She seems not to, either.  The question was whether we tell anyone at the restaurant, and if we do, whom do we tell?  I tend to get a bit inhibited, and I'm likely to tell an employee, not the proprietor/proprietress.

This discussion was made more lively once our corrected eggs order arrived.  The eggs dishes were frankly cold.  This observation was what occasioned the discussion of whether to send something back.

My daughter decided to be more assertive than is her style, or mine, and she told Karen, the proprietress, upon being asked how breakfast was, that the eggs were cold.  Karen said she would tell this to her cook staff.  That's it?  Just tell them to present eggs hot next time?  When the clerk came over to ask us about our meal, and to let us know she, too, had heard about our cold eggs, I told her there was no way that small saucer of potatoes should have cost $2.50.  She did little more than confirm she heard what I said.

Very many years ago, my daughter's mother and I, and another couple, went out for a special French meal in Boston.  I can't remember what we were celebrating.  I don't remember the restaurant or what we ate, either, except I remember something about tiny quail.  What I remember very well was that after dinner, the four of us decided to go get pizza, since we were all still distinctly hungry.  And so it was again at Alaska Coffee Roasters.  I had already heard about their wonderful pizza, my daughter and I were still hungry, because what we had already bought and consumed was insubstantial, so we got a pizza.  The pizza, by the way, was as good as billed.  It was not, however, as good as the pizza at Tomato & Basil.  It was a special breakfast pizza.  You choose the size (10 inches or 12 inches), the one topping, which kind of cheese you want, and how you want your one egg cooked.  It was about $13 for the 12".

I had to agree with my daughter that an adaptive strategy in the face of an experience like this one would be not to return.  That's what I have resolved to do.  As we were finishing our pizza, Karen saw us eating it, and she said that if she had known the pizza was for us, she would not have charged us for it.  She did not, however, offer to reverse the charge already made.  If she had, I would have given them another try sometime.  The food wasn't bad.  It just wasn't right, and it wasn't enough, especially for the price charged.   What came closest to good enough was the pizza, although that charge was a bit on the high side, too.  Did I mention that the coffee was good?

The Canary in the Coal Mine

For those unfamiliar (are there such?), the purpose of a caged canary in a coal mine is to react (by dying) to early and undetectable gas accumulations, so miners will know a disaster is imminent, and they will get out of the mine.  More generally, the concept is intended to suggest seemingly minor and subtle irregularities that herald more dire eventualities.  The purpose, of course, as with coal miners, is to allow reaction to the minor and subtle irregularity, before the bigger problem comes.  Ideally, the bigger problem can even be averted.

For not entirely clear reasons, people do not like to recognize dead canaries, and they do not want to address the problems that resulted in the canaries' deaths.  It could be laziness, or it could be general lack of initiative, or sometimes, for those short-sighted enough, it could be a disinclination to commit to, and pay for, whatever will avert the impending big problem.

In the Village, we have streets that are shredded at the edges.  About 10 years ago, Village residents who live on the canal complained about water leaching up into their homes when the tide was unusually high, like after heavy rains.  More recently, some Village residents have complained about water pooling (literally) in the streets after heavier rains.  Sometimes, those spots on those streets are not easily passable for a while.*  There appears to be general agreement about a rising water table in south Florida, affecting the Village as well.  On 121st Street, between 11th Avenue and 11th Court, there is an access point to a drainage reservoir, and the iron access cover, as well as the support around it, have sunk about 4-5 inches below street level.  Apparently, this devolution is not new, since we have attended to it with patches over the years.

(* Last week, I was at Costco after a significant rain.  About 1/3 of their parking lot was so under water that no one could park there, and then walk to the store.  If it could have been argued that the heavy pooling would be gone in several hours, that fact would not have done Costco any good.  Had I not happened upon a spot where the grade was higher, Costco would have lost my business for that day.)

It is perhaps arguable whether this water problem is coming from above, in the form of excess precipitation, or from below, caused by rising seas and a rising water table.  What should not be arguable is that our current mechanism for removing water is not working well enough to protect our ground from oversaturation.

Some of us hope that the fix is easy, with only a necessity to clean out the drains and reservoirs we already have.  Others are concerned that we may need rebuilding, redesign, or even new construction of the water diversion system upon which the Village relies.  Unfortunately, there are some among us who don't even want to know the problem exists.  If they can somehow look the other way, explain away what the rest of us can see, or just get a car which rides higher off the ground, they can declare that there is no problem.  It's not surprising that those whose properties are directly affected are more vocal about the problem, and those who argue that there is no problem are not as directly affected.

What's also interesting is that if I think of the neighbors who are most vocal in arguing that there is no problem, or at least not one that needs to be fixed, some of them are among the more fastidious about maintaining their own personal residences.  They are also among those who are less willing to pay higher property taxes.  It seems as if their dedication and their commitment is to the building where they sleep and cook, not to the Village as a whole.  "Home," to them, is narrowly defined.

These neighbors don't want a canary in our coal mine.  It's not that they have any special affection for canaries.  It's just that they don't want to have to do what has to be done when the canary dies.  At this point, the canary appears to be having some significant distress.  It is, as they say, not at all well.