I'm kicking myself in the ass for forgetting to bring my camera last night. It was a long day, but well worth the effort to attend one of the biggest parties of the year; just about everyone turned out for the sixteenth birthday party of Twist. Not only did we dance with Henrietta, but she treated the club with her first performance on stage since 1969, singing "On A Clear Day". It was surreal. Somehow, we managed to stay out until 5 AM, as did everyone else. Some day the bill will come due.
Once again, I thank the owners and management of Twist; this is night manager, Cyra, and Twist accountant, Robert, with Leopoldo last Friday. Only Twist can host an open bar for the entire town for three hours; we avoided that cattle rush as we had so many drink tickets. The entire town is hung over today; now I have the impending departure of Mr. Astor for a long weekend to deal with. I hate to be alone, so he has turned me over to the guardianship of Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish. This is what the town received by official cable from her people: "Mrs. SF is preparing an official communique to all watering holes in South beach. They're being advised to not over serve our dear Caroline.Her proclivity for getting into scuffles with inanimate objects defies all rationale. Oh hell..I'm off on Friday and plan on boozing it up all afternoon; perhaps Mrs. Astor will take time off from her needlework and join me?" This is how she taunts the town...and me.

And, poor Ruth Madoff...forced to take the subway. She admonished the photographer with a snap of whether he was happy to destroy her life. Poor thing, she just doesn't get it. Her husband destroy her life.

Work on Twist's 16 th anniversary bash continued through the afternoon and showed no signs of abating when I left after having a much-needed cocktail or two with Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish. A legion of designers, artisans, carpenters, landscapers, carpet-layers, painters, and technicians labored all day to meet the 9 PM opening time. We will be picking up Henrietta at 11 PM to attend.
And--speaking of The Queen of South Beach--I meant to show a photo of her presenting one of the shoes she wore to Twist last Friday. She never ceases to amaze us; not only does the height of the shoes of a 68-year-old defy common sense, but the novelty of their designs always bring a smile. That night she proudly showed off a pair of platforms that had porno scenes lacquered to them.

And, speaking of Mrs. S-F, Leopoldo is leaving for San Francisco on Friday for a wedding and he has placed my good care into her hands--al eight of them. This has caused much eye-rolling here; how could my good behaviour be trusted to a known social criminal like Mamie. (In addition, I know she will try to poison me or plan my demise more creatively, like being run over by one of her carriages or tumbling off her balcony. I have enlisted several pool boys to protect me.

Although there was never any reason to doubt that Leopoldo's birthday party would be fun, is was a pleasant surprise to have it become a grand event. After setting up the hot food, I stepped outside the bungalow and looked back to see about 75 people laughing, drinking and eating; at that moment, I was finally able to let go of the stress that had plagued me all day. The owners and managers of Twist were extremely generous and the crowd truly appreciative. I had been arguing for some time that the bungalow bar could be the ideal venue for our crowd, and that it was. Here are a few photos of that memorable evening.
At first it seemed as if I might have overdone it on the food, but it wasn't long before the line formed. I follow the rule that it is better to have too much than too little.

Thomas Barker showed up early with a new buddy, Joshua; the Cinemateque's Kendall is between them.

And the delightful Penelope drove down from Broward to represent that county's transgender
community.

Leopoldo's "sister", Lloyd and his boyfriend, Scott.

Connie Chung popped in.

Celebrity bartender, Susie, kept the thirsty crowd satisfied.

And celebrate they did.

A cute new stripper, Gianni, brought smiles to all.

And, The Baroness Seitzinger was not sporting the usual jewels. She was heard to whisper that it was a good thing Mrs. Styuvesant-Fish had left for a Palm Beach weekend as it would leave that much more for everyone to eat and drink. There was an unsubstantiated rumor that Mamie was actually in rehab; we passed it around anyway.

The ever-fabulous Henrietta brought shrimp salad, her signature meatballs, and a cake. Between the two of them, she and Leopoldo were sporting about twenty carats. I sincerely thank Twist and all our friends for making it a most exciting night. Next stop: Twist's sixteenth anniversary this Wednesday.

Although I am physically exhausted by the intense effort to redecorate Twist for its sixteenth anniversary next Wednesday, there is more important business at hand.
All eyes are now turned to tonight's birthday party for Leopoldo in Twist's bungalow bar. I am being joined by Henrietta to host the bash, and I have been juggling both efforts all week. Susie is also co-hosting the birthday and will be bartending; food, cakes, a BBQ, and strippers will be offered to the adoring crowd starting at 7 PM.

We are both taking tomorrow off to recuperate.

The summer doldrums are here; its not as if nothing is going on, it just doesn't go on at the pace we expect it to. City Hall is totally obsessed with the Police Department's shooting of the unarmed tourist last weekend; there is nothing more feared in a resort town. Worse yet, as I related this week, there is great talk about why the police stopped him in front of the two businesses open and busy at 4.30 Am; thus, the whole shooting is caught on video by Twist and has been now played by the local stations. No matter what the police try to do, they can't seem to bury this one like all the others. On top of this, the trigger-happy policeman who shot the tourist was reportedly put on "paid, administrative leave" and, yet, he managed to shoot another person to death on Friday in a botched car-jacking on the McCarther Causeway. That's some "administrative" leave. One has to wonder if they locked him in a closet how many he could still shoot.



I spent a lovely, quiet afternoon at La Casa, splashing around in the pool and then watching The Met's presentation of Madama Butterfly produced by the late Anthony Minghella; the minimalist sets coupled with puppets and origami was such a joy. Maybe I'm an old softy, but I can't stop crying during one of the greatest soap operas of all time. "I couldn't bo back to entertaining people with my singing...He'll come; you'll see."
As I wrote, it was not a boring week; we celebrated the birthday of Steven Stewart, the architect of Twist's new look and the person who keeps its physical plant operating.

A word to the wise: Don't leave latex gloves in the hands of two doctors on a drunken Thursday afternoon.
All eyes are now on the birthday party I will be hosting with Henrietta next Friday at Twist (starting at 7 PM) in the bungalow bar in honor of Leopoldo's birthday. There will be lots to eat, great gossip to be traded, and go-go boys.

During his birthday party, Steven announced, " Thank you, everyone. A real man doesn't lie about his age and I'm 45

I totally agree with that. Leopoldo will be 44 on Friday and I am 34..

The weekend ended with some interesting local developments. Miami police arrested an 18-year-old, Tyler Weinman, as the suspected Cat Killer; dozens of mutilated cats had spurred massive discontent by the residents toward the police and vigilante groups were even formed. In the end, apparently a profiler with the police detailed a theory that the killer operated between two specific points that he traveled between often. As it turned out, Weinman's divorced parents lived at opposite ends of the studied area and visited both often. The alleged Cat Killer portrayed a smug attitude in his mug shot, but didn't look so confidant today during the video of his arraignment; there, dressed in prison garb and wearing a bullet-proof vest, Weinman looked visibly shaken after a night in the notorious Dade jail. If he is the Cat Killer, police probably stopped a future serial killer in his tracks.
And, Mr. Clucky continued to attract attention from around the world and the support of local powers like the ubiquitous Thomas Barker. Featured last week on The Today Show, CBS News, NBC News, National Public Radio, to name a few, news organizations picked up the story and proceeded to make Mr. Clucky something close to a feathered Joan of Arc. Mr. Clucky's website, mrclucky.com, rose from a relatively stratified, novelty site to one getting millions of hits.

According to The Los Angeles Times, there was no issue about Mr. Clucky's early morning crow as he (and his female hen mate) live in a sound proof closet at night. As is often the case, one, anonymous complaint roused The City to jump before they thought. Now Miami Beach has one, nasty, huge public relations nightmare on their hands, as I predicted. Imagine: The much-hated City Hall Code Enforcement officers--a bunch of malcontents with little education in matters of Code or knowledge in general--threatening a defenseless rooster who only wants to promote the well-being of animals and world peace. Call me Miss Cleo, but I predict the mayor will be awarding "Special Citizenship" and the key to The City to Mr. Clucky soon.

And, finally, there was the fatal shooting of a tourist from Virginia Sunday morning. The full story is being kept as quiet as possible, but it is all over the local news. At 4 AM there was a report of a man with a hand gun walking down Washington Avenue from Fifteenth Street. At that time most of the businesses are closed, but the police waited until they cornered a suspect and another man who turned out to be his brother, at the corner of 11 th Street, where the busy 11 th Street Diner and Twist were still in full swing. Why they didn't corner him in front of a closed business is anyone's guess, but they shot him dead in full view of many witnesses. The problem today is that it seems the man with the gun was lost some where before 11 th Street and the police confronted two unarmed brothers who had just come out of a nightclub; one had his head blown off and the other arrested for disorderly conduct. But the real fun started today with the police first trying to stop local news stations from filming, lawyers related to the victim visiting every business, and the police holding up in their headquarters across the street.

This city needs one, good spin doctor at the moment.

As the official "walkers" of Henrietta, The Queen of South Beach, we are often besieged by questions of her background, her every day comings and goings, and--especially--the secret of that hairdo.

I can now reveal that the secret of Henrietta's hair style was passed down, through secret notes hidden in a jar of pomade, from Crown Prince Otto of Austria and Hungary. Otto is the oldest son of the last emperor and empress of the Austro-Hungarian empire, Karl and the ever-fascinating Zita. In 1940 Zita, her husband long dead, escaped the Nazi invasion of Belgium where they resided and fled to Paris, then to Portugal, and finally to the United States and Canada. Otto was an ardent opponent of Hitler and was sentenced to death by the Nazis. Fortunately, he outlived Hitler. Since 1951 he has been married to Princess Regina of Saxe-Meiningen and Hildburghousen and is very active in European affairs; they have seven children.