Our beloved mayor, Mattie, is today the center of the typical ethnic controversy that thrives here. The Cubans have a fit if you question the reason for sanctions against Cuba, the Jews swoon with rage if they are questioned about their monopoly on commercial ownership and the unbelievable rents that exist, the Haitians protest about the wholesale deportations they suffer, and on and on. There are even a few locally born Americans ever aware of their dwindling percentage of political power who loudly moan their fate. So, poor Mattie put her foot in her mouth and is now the target of calls for resignation.

There has been a long debate on the City's need and legal ability to limit the amount of time a homeowner can rent out their property. The Herald reported "The talk had taken a turn toward the outlandish -- with commissioners and residents cataloging the unsavory types presumably feared to be renting homes on the beach: from pedophiles to terrorists to drug peddlers." Then poor Mattie said during the contentious fight, ''The drug dealers have a lot of money, too,'' Bower said during the meeting. ``They're from Colombia, they're making all the money." Calls from Colombian drug dealers immediately demanded her resignation; and, driving the antique Cadillac makes her an obvious target.

Mattie, Mattie, Mattie; we love you and have a bit of advice: Never mention a nationality or religion is this over-sensitive city with out biting your tongue. Every group has suffered so very much in history (and their mind) and are generally so strung out that they don't understand you meant no harm. Of course, I'd like someone on the Commission to really think about the legality of stopping a property owner from renting a home--a home they pay very high taxes on--to anyone, even gypsies. As homes have become so difficult to sell, the only course for many is to rent, even for short periods--and who cares if they are drug dealers; that would cut out a lot of wait time.

A quiet week so far. The baroness is hiding in shame from that truck driver incident and Mamie is off to Las Vegas, a city she detests, for a meeting. I miss them both, but at least don't have to constantly be watching my back. And, the bad news of the week: On Sunday we attended a dinner of close friends at the wonderful Chinese restaurant, Miss Yip. One close friend at the table is the senior vice president of a huge, powerful, global company. At one point--during light conversation of what we all did that weekend--I overheard him quite calmly tell his boyfriend, "Well, if we go bankrupt, I will just have to retire long before I planned to." I nearly choked on my egg roll; maybe we really do have to start storing provisions in the fruit cellar.