Sunday, January 07, 2007

Introducing Monocle Man

A note from the publisher:

First off, anyone wearing a monocle today should be viewed with suspicion. This gentleman, who wishes to remain anonymous as is a bloggers wont, is not the kind of guy you'd invite to a party. If his 1,000 yard stare doesn't quickly put your shindig into an irreversible slide toward downersville, his jaded, dyspeptic personality soon will. So, dear reader, read his words with caution and a mojito, MVB's drink of choice, in hand.


Really, I'm not as bad as Mr. Erectus made me out to be. Sure, I might wear a monocle, but does that mean I don't eat, sleep, and shit like the rest of you? Perhaps you'd be more forgiving if you knew I was born and raised in Miami and have been living here for over half a century. I've basically seen it all and it has taken its toll on me. My shrink calls me Eeyore, my girlfriend calls me shallow, and my hero Verticus Erectus calls me dyspeptic, but despite those sentiments, I still get up every morning in Miami thinking that today is going to be an improvement on yesterday. That should count for something. Right?

Anyway, my first "observations" for MVB are:
  • Since no one else seems to be doing it on a scale that will make an impact, Baptist Health South Florida, the region's largest private employer, and the University of Miami are going to provide affordable housing to attract and retain workers. They will build units on land they own. When the average house price in Dade County is $372,400 and the median family income for a family of four is $55,900, who will build affordable housing for the teachers? The cops? The firefighters? For you and me?
  • What's with underwear? When I was at UM in the early 70's, hardly anyone wore them. Trust me, I've seen my fair share of cracks over the years-- some good (the one I saw on March 7, 2006 was a standout), most bad-- but now a days, they've changed what once was something utilitarian into a fashion statement. I know this because I can see people's underwear almost every place I go. I find myself not knowing whether to look or turn away. Maybe some day if I live long enough, I will be comfortable seeing other people's underwear in public.
  • Speaking of underwear, until I started dating a sensuous, worldly Brazilian named Luciana, I didn't know that after all of these years I had been placing "it" inside my underwear in the wrong position. According to her, it is supposed to go "up." I ran this by Esquire magazine's Answer Guy and he said, after calling me a "pussy," that this is America and I can put it any where I want to. Thanks to Luciana, however, I discovered colorful "athletic briefs" and stopped buying those old man white cotton briefs and will never go back. Now, God forbid, if I should ever get into an accident, I can rest assured that at least I'll be looking good on the gurney, well, at least as far as the underwear goes.
  • What's with the county trying to dig a $1.2 billion tunnel between the Port of Miami and Watson Island? Recent reports show that the port has lost money while other ports-- including its chief competitor, Ft. Lauderdale's Port Everglades-- made profits. Part of the plan to pay for the tunnel includes charging trucking companies and shippers tolls. Won't this raise the cost of doing business at the port? Won't it drive business away? As MVB has suggested, why haven't they considered bringing the existing, unused rail line on line during the dead of night to relieve port congestion while downtown is asleep? It's gotta be a lot cheaper than digging a billion dollar freaking tunnel.
  • When I was growing up in the westside of North Miami, no one got murdered by a gun. Burglaries were unheard of. Then, during the seventies and eighties, people moved away and the color and the language changed from white and English to black, brown, Spanish, Creole and something resembling English. Murders went up along with burglaries. When I went to North Miami High, no one got killed and it stayed that way up until the last 10 years when at least two kids have been killed there. One crawled under a car in the school parking lot to get away from a guy with a gun-- to no avail; the killer got on all fours, looked under the car and fired away. Some even pee in the hallway. What happened?
  • Elita Loresca.

  • UpDate (12/13/08): Christmas comes early with the announcement that the tunnel project succumbs to a well-deserved death when the state and Bouygues Travaux Publics can't agree on terms. Hurray!


Manola Blablablanik said...

Verticus, are you not aware of the South Beach Thong Crisis? :-)

Verticus S. Erectus said...

I'm quite aware of it, Ms. Blablablanik. Why, just yesterday I tripped over one while walking along Lincoln Road on my way to the movies. How it got there, I haven't a clue. What this crisis needs is a good slogan to bring attention to the problem. May I suggest: Keep your Thongs Where they Belong!