Last night I was greeted (after opening the gate to Leopoldo's residence) by Tara, the most ferocious dog I've ever met. But, Tara loves me; she knows I always show up with food and the baked macaroni and beef didn't disappoint. (How much happier can I be than with a dog and a Latino to fuss over?) After the obligatory margarita, we set out for Magnum's tiki bar. Getting anywhere in Miami is a chore; every artery is clogged with repairs to an infrastructure never designed to serve the needs of an explosive population, but we made it to 79th Street well enough.

As we approached, I stopped and stared. In front of the bar was a large sign welcoming everyone to the "Ticky" bar. You get used to this here, but Magnum's is a class act, which--in it's previous existence as Jeffrey's here on the beach--was a lovely, lace-curtained establishment you could take your mother to. The gracious Jeffrey refused to pay the outlandish rent increase and packed off to the mainland where Magnum's established itself as another, civilized--and now rather baroque--restaurant (which is closed for vacation). "Ticky," I kept repeating. "Why would they do that?" L asked. There was no answer (maybe there was some fine print I didn't notice), but there was nothing "tiki" about it anyway; it was an old flower store shack, turned bar. We sipped cocktails under a tent, while hamburgers were grilled for us, and listened to Abba for two hours. It was a fine evening but, I still couldn't get "Ticky" out of my mind; "Love Shack" would have been more appropriate, but who knows what they would have done to that.

Tonight everyone will trot downtown to see Edison Farrow's production of "Queer Riot" at the Guzman Theater. It is almost twenty years since I met Bunny in New York. She's still got the same old potty mouth; if it's true that "God punishes you where you sin most", Bunny's tongue would have whithered up and fallen off long ago. The only change is that her hair has gotten higher every year (I don't know how she balances the weight of that hair on those platform shoes). As The Queen Mother of Drag--she must be in her eighties now--Bunny still keeps going on, as do we.