"Scenic" Misery

On Saturday I awoke from a dream in which I was in a room with Douglas (who’s been in South America for a month). The next day he walked into Twist saying he’d been trying to reach me. Last night I dreamt KiKi had been left with a woman in a housing project and when I climbed the stairs she was sitting in the door of her dreary quarters laughing that she had lost him. I ran all around the project looking for him and awoke crying his name out, startling Leopoldo. KiKi’s home and OK, but it set the tone for the day. Some days just start out on the wrong note.

I know where the housing project came from: On the train to the courthouse in Miami to finally put to rest a drawn out traffic issue for Mr. Astor, we passed over some of the most depressing homes and “projects” imaginable. Some genius in Miami government has renamed the Arena stop to be “Scenic Overtown”. Overtown is about as scenic as a concentration camp, but perhaps they refered to the photo opportunities. Yes, that’s what it should be renamed: “Photogenic Overtown”. There is so much to capture with your camera (that’s if it’s not stolen by starving residents). Another genius recently predicted a sharp rise in crime because of “the economic situation”. If that situation means desolate lives like we saw in Overtown then, yes, he is a genius and should get a prize.

I read too many news sites not to be bugged out, but here on South Beach we can always divert our attention to the sun and fun of a small society totally insulated and out of touch. There is always a party to go to, a new outfit to contemplate, and on and on.
So what do I do today to divert my attention away from the woes of the world, but go to one of the most brilliant anarchists I read, Kevin, The Deviant. How right he is to worry about his future, but I doubt if there is one for America. How did we ever get to a rice shortage? Is it The Chinese again? Connie Chung was upset at not being invited to brunch and I explained it was because it was so last minute. Actually, I was afraid she would eat my meal. Kevin lashed out a few days ago with this gem:

"...if you're telling me we're running out of rice then I've officially hit the panic button. He who controls the rice, controls the Universe! I'm very close to just gutting the nearest chinaman and consuming his rice-filled innards. Throw me some poppy seeds or something! I'm feeling rather pinched and I feel its a serious issue that we're RUNNING OUT OF FOOD!"

Oh, well; Mr. Astor is off the next two days so I'm sure we will have a lovely time finding all sorts of amusement. It'll be a little like strolling around the promenade deck of The Titanic.