State of the City (of Miami)

People have been asking about my trip to Miami, so I’ll lay it out for you. Miami was about the same as last year, only more so. Let me explain.

Cell phones. I usually enjoy driving in Miami – it’s not nearly as stressful as driving in Singapore. But this year I’d have to call it about even. The reason is cell phone related. It appears that Miami cars will not move unless the driver is talking on the cell. You see a guy creeping along with half a mile of space between him and the car in front and as you pass him and shoot him a dirty look you notice he is on the phone. Everyone in the mall is also on the phone. What the hell are these people talking about all the time? I almost wonder how people were able to function before we all had cell phones.

Traffic. As if driving while yakking on the phone isn’t bad enough, most of the expressways are in their usual state of being under renovation. You drive along and see debris everywhere, the roads lined with earth moving equipment of all sorts, yet you never see any work being done. Maybe they ran out of money. It’s been going on for many years, but this time I noticed signs on the road saying the works would be completed in – get this: 2015. Wanna bet?

Cars. Last year marked the debut of the “new” retro Camaro and Mustang. This year I noticed quite a few new retro Dodge Chargers. I sure hope they don’t bring back the AMC Gremlin.

Bazoombas. It looks like the last few adult women who had not had boob jobs have now had them. Not a single woman over the age of 18 has avoided the knife, and the teen market is rapidly being exploited. This is disturbing on several counts:

1. So many doctors are going into plastic surgery rather than doing something useful with their lives. Don’t they have any qualms about taking a seat in medical school just to give insecure women bazoombas the size of Jay Leno’s head?

2. So many women are willing to look ridiculously fake in a pathetic attempt to feel good about themselves.

3. An entire generation of teenage boys will grow up never knowing the feel of a real breast.

Black leggings. I think I recall seeing one female who wasn’t wearing black leggings. Probably not.

Like I said, it’s all the same, only more so.

Back in Miami

I arrived in the US with the wife and kid for our annual pilgrimage. As no airplane ever made has the fuel capacity for such a long trip we had to stop in Tokyo and Houston. Narita airport is the same as always—white-gloved security personnel, clean restrooms, and glassed-in designated smoking areas filled with Japanese men barely visible through the haze. Looking into one of them reminds me of looking at a fishbowl in desperate need of a change of water.

The Houston airport was another story. With Christmas approaching, there was a small stage with a karaoke machine where travelers could sing Christmas carols with a country and western twang. Most of the singing was done by airport personnel, who were apparently unaware of what all the travelers knew: that singing should be left to the professionals.

But the most painful part of the Houston stopover was seeing Sarah Palin’s book prominently displayed in front of every bookshop and newsstand. As a writer, I can’t tell you how much that hurt. But Houstonians sure do love their guns, Bibles, and oil wells, so I can see the connection. On the plus side, I doubt they are avid readers.

At long last we made it to Miami. During the taxi ride out of the airport I noticed that the expressways are still in their usual state of perpetual construction. And why not? Large public works projects are an ideal source of graft, and Miami politicians are the most greedy and corrupt on the planet. However, I won’t make the mistake of calling them whores. The last time I did that I had to apologize. To the whores.

A trip to Dadeland Mall gave a good picture of the local inhabitants. The plastic surgeons continue to do a booming business, as one is hard pressed to find a woman whose bust has not been surgically augmented. There seems to be a pervasive sense of self-absorption.

Even the men are caught up in it, and in themselves. There is a shop called The Art of Shaving, which sells high-end shaving stuff. You can also get a shave there for $35. I don’t think I spend $35 a year on shaving cream, razor blades, and cologne, and I am a fairly well-groomed guy. Maybe the attraction of the $35 shave lies in the fact that the chair is right in the front window! It must be appealing for some guys to know people are thinking, “Hey, who’s the big shot who can afford to drop north of one grand a month to be shaved in public?” Of course, other people are thinking, “Hey, who’s the self-absorbed asshole who feels the need to have people see him getting a $35 shave?”

Obesity continues to run (or shuffle along, wheezing) amok. The mall has lots of stuffed chairs scattered around for people to rest their weary bones and gargantuan frames. (You won’t find these chairs in Singapore malls, until they find a way to charge you for sitting.) I even saw a TV commercial for The Scooter Store. Imagine a store that sells only electric scooters to propel people through the mall and around their homes! And at the risk of offending a few disabled folks who truly need these vehicles, I suspect most of the people who buy these things just need to eat much less and exercise now and then. But why bother, when you can get a machine to lug your fat ass around? [Cue the music: “In the year 2525….”]

So after a few days, here is my one sentence impression of Miami. A bunch of overweight people driving massive SUVs to the mall, with phones clamped to the sides of their heads.

This is a view of Miami I don’t get in Singapore. It explains a lot. No wonder Palin is topping the charts.