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"The Sun"

It was as if some advanced civilization sought to mock our ideas about natural beauty, heightening them and exaggerating them, fashioning vibrant, otherworldly creations that resemble plants and flowers boosted by alien DNA.

Or, as my two-year-old son put it: “Look at the monsters!”

Monstrous or beautiful, Dale Chihuly’s glass pieces – which can be seen today until 4:30 or from 6:30 to 9:30 tonight at Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden -- are worth a look. The exhibition, “Chihuly at Fairchild,” has been up since December, and tonight’s the last night. --Frank Houston

Nearly a year and a half after a Chalk's seaplane crashed over Miami Beach, killing 20 people, the National Transportation Safety Board came to some conclusions about the cause of the accident during a meeting today.
Faulty repair of a wing crack and poor maintenance were the causes, the board said.

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The Bike Blog couldn’t make it, but last Friday’s tenuous Critical Mass-esque ride did, in fact, materialize. The event was fashioned after Critical Mass rides in other cities, which generally take place on the last Friday of every month. Assuming this event continues on a monthly basis, this means that Miami – a veritable Valhalla of car-loving sidewalk-shunning gas guzzlers -- has acquired no less than two Critical Mass rides in the space of about six months. Wow!

The Friday ride, according to a few sources, was a success – especially if you count having the cops show up as a good sign. According to Kevin Gonzales, who helped organize the event, he and three other bikers were sitting in front of the Torch of Freedom at Bayside Park, waiting for other riders, when a police car from the Miami Police Department pulled up onto the sidewalk.

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Tuesday marked the “soft launch” for the new Visitor Passport, a $19 unlimited ride pass good for seven days.

The county’s transit department hailed the advent as a key to help speed tourists on their way, saving them gas, rental car money and traffic headaches. Hell, it can even save residents from dealing with relatives, according to transit’s website.

“No time to be a gracious host to visiting family and friends? Just buy them the new $19 Visitor Passport to explore Miami and its beautiful beaches.”

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Sunday morning I awoke to a ferocious banging on the door of my apartment on Michigan Avenue and Eight Street on the Beach.

It was 6:15 a.m.

Again, a thunderous pounding echoed through the four-unit complex. I pottered downstairs. Staring through the glass-paneled door was a male, African-American, mid-twenties.

“Hey,” he said wiping beads of sweat of his forehead, “you gotta let me in to use your phone. Someone just tried to car-jack us. I gotta use your phone to call the police.”

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Ten years gone

It’s hard to believe that it’s been ten years since beautiful troubadour Jeff Buckley went for a final midnight swim in the mighty Mississippi. Ten years since Grace, ten years since that last, haunting “Hallelujah.” But like so many other stars with silver screen looks who have died young – Buckley was just 30 at the time, with a long and prolific career that seemed to stretch before him – death has turned him into an icon.

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This'll be the best home brew ever!

Ever feel the urge to talk to a marine scientist? Well look no further. Every Friday night they gather at bar behind the University of Miami Marine Sciences Campus on Virginia Key. Just make your first right off the Rickenbacker right after you pass the Miami Seaquarium. Park outside the gates and make your way past the mass of scientific detritus (bouys, science things...) following signs toward "The Commons" (open to the public on Fridays). Pass through the lobby's massive stuffed sharks, past the awesome aquarium, and head towards the cafeteria-like dining area near the modest bar. They've got pints of Flying Dog, Doggy Style Pale Ale. Step out onto the deck and enjoy a drink with some seriously bearded Marine Biologists overlooking a pleasant, isolated beach. Miami ain't so bad... --Calvin Godfrey

Say you and your mate decide to have a romantic dinner in Coral Gables. The Hotel St. Michel comes to mind, because the room is so quiet and quaint, but as your last visit was quite some time ago, you check their website to investigate. The home page trumpets a BRAND NEW MENU!, so you click it on: Herb crusted Chilean filet of salmon with white asparagus and lemon-lime sauce ($22). Veal paillard with figs, apples, fried polenta and port wine reduction ($30). Pecan crusted, chipotle marinated lamb chops with roasted corn, portobello mushrooms, and röesti potatoes ($32). A little overwrought perhaps, but surely alluring enough to fit the bill.

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After steady ignoring that weird splotch on your forearm for months now, you’ve finally convinced yourself that it’s actually changing shape, like a chocolate brown amoeba slowly squrming under a microscope. So what are you doing about it? No, seriously. Even though skin cancer is completely curable if diagnosed and treated in time, many people wait until it’s too late. Sad but true: someone dies of melanoma every 65 minutes, and women aged 20-29 are particularly vulnerable. The statistics within the African American community are even more dire. May is Skin Cancer Month, so there really isn’t any justification for continuing to pay no attention to your possible malignancy. Thanks to Olay and the American Society for Dermatologic Surgery’s special program “Skin Cancer Takes Friends,” eight dermatologists within the Miami area will be providing free skin cancer screenings.

And yes, we know May’s pretty much over. Lucky for you, most dermatologists will be participating through June and July, as well! So don’t forget your sunscreen, and visit www.SkinCancerTakesFriends.org to find a doctor and make that appointment, already. We’re telling you because we care. -- Patrice Yursik

It was a formal-looking envelope, gray and stately. Good-quality paper, too: kind of heavy, with a linen texture. My name and address were printed on the front. Maybe, I thought, it was one of those nifty discount cards from one of my favorite stores. Or an invitation for an upcoming college reunion or an offer for free cat litter.

I looked at the return address and grimaced in disgust. It was from The National Republican Senatorial Committee and The National Republican Congressional Committee. I opened the letter.

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Albert Facchiano is a 97-year-old Bal Harbor retiree. He's also on house arrest.
Why, you ask?
Apparently Facchiano -- whose aliases are "The Old Man" and "Chinky," is a gangster. Like from waaaay back: think Bugsy Siegel and Lucky Luciano.

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If you’re ever busted by City of Miami cops and you hear the words “mini-station” or “sub-station,” kick out the squad car window and run down the street as fast as your little legs can carry you.

After an exhaustive two-year investigation, the Citizens Investigative Panel has concluded that there are a number of underground back rooms being used by the MPD as “mini-stations.”

According to Charles C. Mays, a lawyer for the Civilian organization, they are still discovering them. “At a meeting with the department, one of our employees mentioned that there were a number of sub-stations in Allapattah.” Everyone in the room was surprised to hear it.

The reason they were so shocked, according to Mays, is that the Miami Police Department has maintained that there are no such things.

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It’s no surprise when a local restaurant closes the kitchen and makes way for overpriced cocktails and amateur booty-shaking. And for this holiday weekend in particular, New Times has received countless e-mails hawking this and that Memorial Day blowout and “No work on Monday” party. And while most had us smiling at the un-special “drink specials,” one from downtown retaurant Karu & Y had us shaking our heads in disbelief. And the chic eatery’s Rob Garcia was just as shocked to learn that a press release bearing the restaurant's name and touting a Memorial Day soiree also contained this line: "All those staying in Miami for Memorial Day Weekend, you know that South Beach becomes unbearable because thousands of ghetto tourists take over…"

"[This is] a huge problem," Garcia said when contacted by Riptide this afternoon. “We approved a flyer for that night, but we didn’t approve this, or anything else.”

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Since Seal had his couple of big stateside hits in the Nineties (the seemingly immortal “Kissed By a Rose” being the most recognizeable), lately he seems to have been relegated to the role of Mr. Heidi Klum. So who goes to a Seal concert in Miami in 2007?

Well, for complicated and unimportant reasons, me, at least. Thursday night I found myself at the Jackie Gleason Theater in Miami Beach, sitting in Seal’s catering room. If the man himself remains shrouded in mystery, seeming to forever exist in moody, dramatic still frames, his backstage fit: It was possibly the quietest backstage ever. No random women wandering about, background music blaring, or spilled bowls of M&Ms and bottles of whiskey. Instead there were nice, polite people nicely, politely eating from an impressive spread of fresh-cooked food to rival that of a hotel brunch. Did I mention it was quiet?

So who would open for Seal? An equally sincere purveyor of “nice” R&B? Not this time – and here is where the best surprise of the evening came, in the form of opener Shane Alexander.

A pleasantly scruffy blonde, Alexander is a singer/songwriter in the most classic American sense. (Even his outfit was classic American: a pink retro western shirt and dark denim). While he plays with a full band in his hometown of L.A., as well as on his albums (which, by the way, are all self-released), he’s performing solo on this tour, with only his guitar for protection.

Not that he needs any shield. Alexander is one of the most empathetic, talented guys-with-guitars to come along lately, in a way that kicks aside subgenres in the tradition of the straightforward troubadour. He gets compared to Jeff Buckley a lot, for obvious reasons, but that’s kind of lazy. Alexander’s timbre is chestier and rootsier, and instead of sounding tormented he sounds hopeful.

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In honor of Memorial Day, Riptide would like to offer our weekend visitors -- and our regular readers -- this enjoyable youtube clip for your viewing pleasure. It's a seven-minute loop of Horatio Caine one-liners on CSI:Miami.

Note how Horatio casually slips his sunglasses on while delivering his words of wisdom. Priceless.