If The Hat Fits....

...you'd better wear it soon. Castro hats are all the rage around the country, although I wouldn't place Miami in there. I have never known WHERE to place Miami; it exists in a separate mental sphere from the United States. 60% of the population does not speak English as a first language and 80% of those never intend to speak it at all.

Cubans run Miami as a fiefdom, much like the Italians ran Chicago in the 30's. It's corrupt, but once you understand that fact anything is possible. The influx of other Central and South American immigrants has not deprived the entrenched of much power.

All Cubans await The Day. This is the day that Castro dies. The police have plans to deal with the mass celebration which will occur, and the Coast Guard has plans to seal off the waters from the inevitable flow of people back and forth. The ever-thoughtful government of The United States has an "Aid" program ready, too, although I'm not quite sure who this will aid. Call me crazy, but any country that has thumbed its nose at Washington for over 40 years might be smug enough to not want aid, or troops, or helicopters.

However, Castro's health problems combined with the ceding of power to his brother caused what one might call a death pre-party in Miami last night. Crowds danced in the streets, shot bullets into the air, and waved flags; it looked as if everyone had quite a fun time. My Cuban friends wince at such behavior; they, like me, wonder just what will really change upon Castro's death. What, God forbid, if things just go on and something we cherish, continuity, results? They were born here and are completely American; unlike their parents and, especially their grandparents, they harbor no thoughts of "going home" when they already are.

I will not be wearing a Castro hat this season. My sister (du Barry) stated clearly on Sunday that Castro hats will not be accepted in the Newport she now reigns over should I join the crowd there next week. Wide brimmed hats flatter my majestic profile much to much to submit to a sporty trend like this; quite frankly, I can't picture silk roses above the brim, either.