LauderBlog

I only wanted a nice day at the beach. What's wrong with that? Hmm? Tell me. Ok, sure, I am not your typical Fort Lauderdale beachgoer. If you want to know the truth, I'm just an ordinary plastic water bottle. I admit it. Yes, you heard me. I really am a talking plastic water bottle, all right? Get over it. But that doesn't mean I don't have feelings, ya know. Just because most people treat me like some worthless piece of junk after they've used me - hey, that's no reason I shouldn't be able to hang out for a day of sun and fun. Just like everyone else around South Florida. But, wow, on the Fort Lauderdale beach? Forget it! I mean, a guy like me doesn't stand a chance. That's what I want to tell you folks about. I want to let you know how Greater Fort Lauderdale treats me and my plastic buddies. Because ya know what? They deal with us as if we were ... well, trash, if you'll pardon the expression.

So here's what happened. It was a beautiful sunny Saturday on the beach last weekend. Some dude gets all hot after a swim in the ocean, twists off my top and swigs me down in one gulp. I couldn't dump my water into this guy's throat fast enough. Talk about a big thirst. Then what does he do? He tosses me on the sand, that's what.

Yesssssss! I'm free at last. When he finally leaves without putting me into the nearby waste can, I figure everything is cool. I can kick back, turn my label to the sunlight and soak up some relaxing rays all day long. This is exactly what I needed after spending the last two weeks stuck in some convenience store refrigerator. Do you know how cold it gets in there??! But no kidding, just when I start to feel myself really thawing out, just when I begin to get into that South Florida tropical thing, someone grabs me. Man, I don't think I even had a half hour to chillax. There was this bunch of teens carrying bags around the beach and one of them snagged me and a couple of my friends too. The twerp. Next thing I know, I'm in some recycling center somewhere - and you know what that means for me, right? Not good. So I'm just saying ... Is this any way to treat a guest? Huh? I'd heard lots of frightening stories about Greater Fort Lauderdale from my plastic friends: tales about their award-winning Blue Wave beaches and their morning beach cleanup crews and, yes, their marauding gangs of weekend do-gooders intent on keeping the beaches clean. Now I know it's all true. Life isn't pretty down here for an empty water bottle like me. Or for any piece of trash for that matter. I just hope that I get recycled as a peanut butter jar or something this time - no refrigeration! I might not ever enjoy a day at the beach but at least I won't freeze my nuts off.
(Photo courtesy of http://facebook.com/ftlauderdalesun)

This is a wonderful time of year to eat in Greater Fort Lauderdale. You'll remember that I was talking in my previous blog about the arrival of autumn - and what fall means in South Florida. One thing it has brought us during each of the past few years is a major bargain on high-end dining. From October 1 - November 11, a six week period, you can try out full dinners at some of the finest restaurants in South Florida. And do it without breaking the bank. Nearly 40 restaurants (ok, 38 restaurants to be exact ...) will be part of the big Dine Out Lauderdale promotion starting on Friday. For just $35, you'll get to savor specially created three-course menus at any of these hot spots. And if you think I'm exaggerating about the quality of the restaurants, I assure you that I'm not.

How about a $35 meal at Via Luna, the Ritz-Carlton, Fort Lauderdale's excellent new Italian restaurant situated with a perfect seaside view? Or how about paying that same amount for dinner at the usually very pricey Capital Grille?

Other well-respected eateries taking part in Dine Out Lauderdale include da Campo Osteria, run be celeb chef Todd English at il Lugano, as well as 3030 Ocean at the Harbor Beach Marriott Resort & Spa and Trina at the posh Atlantic Hotel. Or maybe you'd like to finally sample the food at Morton's The Steakhouse or the Mai-Kai or By Word of Mouth. But the restaurants aren't only in Fort Lauderdale of course. There are lots of other choices spread around Broward County. Such as? Well, such as Aizia at the Westin Diplomat Resort & Spa in Hollywood. And such as Le Bistro in Lighthouse Point and Galanga Thai Kitchen & Sushi Bar in Wilton Manors, Café Maxx in Pompano Beach and Ireland's Steakhouse in Weston's Hyatt Regency Bonaventure. Among many others. I've enjoyed Dine Out Lauderdale meals in the past and always had first-class experiences. That includes a memorable night at the Ritz-Carlton's restaurant, which was located where Via Luna is now. Great spot to watch the moon rise over your appetizer. This website has the full list of participating restaurants: http://sunny.org/dineout. You can click on any of them to see their menus for yourself. How's some pan-roasted snapper sound to you, with mussels, clams, mushrooms and red onion in a white wine tomato broth? Mmmm. You can find that among the Dine Out entrees at SoLita Las Olas. I wish I had room here to tell you much more about the menus at these restaurants. But I don't. Like I said, you can easily check out the details online. Once you see some of the meals available for $35, you're likely to feel like I do after writing about all this. Hungry.

On Facebook this morning, one of my 1,024 dearest personal friends posted something interesting. Carolyn wrote: "Seriously, the only thing fall does for South FL is allow us to begin to think about not running the air conditioner so much, and open a sliding glass door." Well, Carolyn, I hate to disagree with any of my wonderful Facebook buds. But I beg to differ. Here in the northern hemisphere, autumn officially begins tomorrow. And contrary to popular opinion, fall does do something for South FL. I can already see it and feel it in the air. We've passed the high point of heat and humidity for the year and we're gliding merrily down the other side toward cooler weather. I've been sitting on my patio without turning on the ceiling fan for the past few days, for example - the ocean breeze has something fresh in it now.

I sat outside this morning and breathed in that wind deeply, just to savor the feeling. If I did that in mid-July I'd likely choke on the humid air. As I'd written a couple months ago, I actually enjoyed the moist summer heat this year. But it's nice to see a change coming.

In South Florida, autumn means many things. The skies begin to turn much clearer, much bluer. As the heat index goes down, the breezes pick up. Of course, the days grow shorter and the nights longer - something that helps give our climate a more autumnal feel, I think. Nature's changes here are more subtle than up north, where fall descends dramatically. I was just in Chicago for a few days. They're having an early autumn so some leaves already had turned color and daytime highs required long-sleeved shirts, sometimes a jacket too. My trip there served as a good contrast to fall in South Florida. In this southern latitude, autumn is less an ending than a beginning. It is the promise of those perfect comfortable weeks just ahead. And we start to see the return of the license plates as well, the snowbirds from New York and Quebec and Pennsylvania and Michigan and everywhere else. There's an excitement to it all somehow. This weekend, I'll dig out my fall decorations and put up small orange lights and my electric pumpkin, scarecrows and gourds. That always helps me get into the seasonal spirit. Whether some of my Facebook friends know it or not, autumn has arrived in South Florida. It may not include orange and gold leaves but it will bring us something else: a spectacular winter.

As I begin this blog, I'm just back from a drive by the Fort Lauderdale beach this morning. It was ... well, really, what single word can do it justice? Was it "gorgeous?" Yes, sure. Was it "inspiring?" I always find it so. Was the view of the sand and the sky and the sea "awesome?" I suppose, though that particular adjective wouldn't be my first choice. You get the idea, though. Greater Fort Lauderdale's coastline draws me toward it at every opportunity. So I sometimes lose sight of the fact that Broward County has changed in many ways since I first moved here from New England more than two decades ago. It has spread out. (No jokes, please, about the same thing happening to me during this period.) This area's center has decidedly shifted westward.

I was reminded of this during a drive last week to a South Florida TV studio located in west Broward. As I headed toward the interview along Interstate 75, I looked out at all the development on land that was mostly Everglades when I arrived in Florida.

It still amazes me. And of course there's even more development to the west of that road these days. The western sections of Greater Fort Lauderdale have been turned into the suburbs for thousands of residents. This includes Weston, high-priced home to some of South Florida's sports stars. And it includes the upscale Hyatt Regency Bonaventure Conference Center & Spa, which attracts scores of tourists from all over the world. I guess my point is just this: that "gorgeous, inspiring and awesome" as our beaches are, there's much more to Greater Fort Lauderdale now than only the seafront. Inland attractions, inland hotels, inland restaurants offer a wide variety for locals and tourists alike. Just go to the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino any night of the week if you want to see what I mean. It gets packed with hotel guests and gamblers, clubgoers and restaurant customers. Situated several miles from the coast, Hard Rock draws some of the biggest acts in show biz to its stage. When I moved to South Florida, "west Broward" was anywhere west of I-95. That's not even the center of the county now. Like I said, amazing. And west Broward also is beautiful in its own way, with vast expanses of flat open country among the buildings and roads. I may love our beaches best of all, but there is life far to the west of I-95. My recent drive out there helped me to recall that it's worth paying a visit from time to time.

There are all kinds of parties in Greater Fort Lauderdale. They happen all the time. Private parties along the Intracoastal Waterway, public parties on the beach. Parties at the Hard Rock complex and parties on Las Olas Boulevard. I think you can have any number of people at a party too - whether that means a hundred of your closest personal friends or just you and someone else who's fun to be around. But next week, there will be an unusual kind of party happening in this town, something I haven't heard about anywhere else before now. How does a "Full Moon Party" sound to you? Different? Romantic? Sexy maybe? To me, a Full Moon Party seems like it just might be a little of all three.

On Thursday, September 23, The Ritz-Carlton, Fort Lauderdale will host its first Full Moon Party. And yes, it's open to the public. You don't have to be a guest at the hotel to take part in this moonlit soiree.

The September launch is planned as the first of an ongoing series of Full Moon Parties at the Ritz. The next one is scheduled for November 21. There's another Full Moon Party on December 21 as well. And yes, these are the correct dates for the full moons during those months. I looked it up to be sure. Ok, so what the heck is this thing anyway? It's your chance to hang at one of South Florida's poshest beachfront hotels and watch the full moon rise from the sea. The folks at The Ritz-Carlton, Fort Lauderdale will supply big telescopes to offer even better views of the moon shining full-face over the Atlantic Ocean. Of course, you also get to enjoy the hotel's delightful 7^th floor tropical pool deck, where the party takes place. If you've never been there, I can tell you this spot on the Fort Lauderdale beach has a perfect view of the seascape below. The Ritz will be selling reduced-price cocktails and appetizers during its Full Moon Party and will have a DJ on hand to spin some appropriate tunes. "Fly Me to the Moon" perhaps? Let's hope the DJ doesn't fire up "Bad Moon Rising." The luxe hotel promises "no velvet ropes, no cover charge." Valet parking rates will be lowered for the event too. The dress code is casual chic. For more details, you can call The Ritz-Carlton, Fort Lauderdale at 954-465-2300. The Full Moon Party starts at 7pm and runs until 10pm. Unfortunately for me, I can't make the first one - I'm teaching a workshop that night. Fortunately for me, there's another full moon each month. And most months, it seems, there also will be a good party to go with it.

South Florida really does have a heart. That's easy to forget sometimes. But I was reminded of it again just yesterday, during a time of year when remembering the past and looking ahead to a better future seems especially appropriate. We're in the middle of the Jewish High Holy Days for one thing, with Rosh Hashanah just passed and Yom Kippur nearly upon us. And of course the ninth anniversary of 9/11 happened on Saturday. Each of us in this country, and millions of others around the world, have our individual feelings connected with that shocking moment. My memories include a visit to Ground Zero less than two months after the attacks, when the demolished buildings were still smoking and ash covered lower Manhattan. I even wrote a poem about 9/11 that now is part of the Artists Registry at the National September 11 Memorial Museum in New York City.

So like all of us, yes, I have a deep reaction when I remember those who died nine years ago. But I didn't think to offer the simple show of respect that I discovered over the weekend, a touching act of remembrance by some anonymous someone in Greater Fort Lauderdale. And that discovery is what I thought was worth sharing with you in this blog.

Yesterday, on a lovely warm Sunday afternoon, I watched the Miami Dolphins football game on TV and then headed over to one of my favorite small parks. I've mentioned this place several times before - Colee Hammock Park on the New River. Charming little spot under tall shade trees with a great view of the mansions and passing boats. I sat on a bench to enjoy the breeze. Then I looked down and noticed the plaque I'd read many times before but had forgotten about this weekend. Embedded in the ground near a young six-foot tree, the plaque reads: "This ‘Tree of Life' is planted in memory of our flying partners who lost their lives on September 11, 2001. United Flight 93   United Flight 175   American Flight 11   American Flight 77   Association of Flight Attendants Council 22 - Miami, Florida." I'm always moved by this when I see it. But on top of that plaque this weekend, someone had left a single long-stem rose. It was wilting a bit by the time I saw the flower yet lay there undisturbed by the many passersby. The rose was pale pink with vivid pink edges, placed lengthwise across the foot-long plaque in the earth. What could be more meaningful? I touched the flower's leaves very gently, and then I walked away. As I did, I wondered who had left the rose and what exactly had moved them to do so. But I was grateful to that person, whoever it was, for the gesture - and for the reminder that sometimes out of the ugliest hatred something beautiful really can come.  

Around Greater Fort Lauderdale, the sky is often blue. But not always, obviously. I mean, even South Florida gets rain sometimes. And clouds. Oh yeah, and we have night too. But there is a spot I know, very near the beach, where the sky is always blue. Even during thunderstorms or on cloudy days. And yes, even at night. It's a peculiar kind of sight that rises from a strip shopping mall, of all places, right along A1A in Lauderdale-by-the-Sea. I don't believe this thing really has a name, not as far as I know anyhow. But I think of it as the Sky Wall. There's something about the Sky Wall that fascinates me. This semi-circular structure looms over the shops and sidewalks beneath, some 40 feet tall and perhaps another 40 feet wide.

So what is the Sky Wall? Just that. It is a mural of the sky on a curved slab of concrete that extends into the view of the real sky. The oddest part of it all is that I have yet to see a single person really pay attention to it and I've been there many times. It's as if the wall just blends into the landscape. But I notice the wall each time I stop.

You'll find the Sky Wall about a half mile north of Commercial Boulevard on A1A, in a shopping center on the west side that also has a Publix and Dunkin' Donuts. If you happen to be driving by, or pausing for an apple spice doughnut or something, check it out. I'm not suggesting this is the Great Wall of China, mind you, not necessarily worth going far out of your way to visit. But Greater Fort Lauderdale is packed with small delights if you keep your eyes open. To me, this is one of them. The wall depicts a very typical South Florida day, with whispers and puffs of white clouds accenting a bright blue sky. The color of the sky is what we normally see during the autumn and winter rather than during warmer periods. It is intense blue behind the pleasant clouds, without the haze of summer humidity. During cooler months, I've often been drinking my coffee and eating a doughnut there when I glanced up and noticed that the sky and the mural seemed one thing. As though the mural had become real or the sky had become part of the painting. Maybe that's what I find most intriguing about the Sky Wall, this juxtaposition of nature on one side and human imagination on the other side. Whoever painted this wall was going for that blend, I suspect, so an observer can't tell the difference when the weather's just right. Fortunately, the weather is often just right. The rest of the time - during a rainstorm or under the clouds or at night - the Sky Wall is a reminder of the blue skies we'll see again soon, very soon. (Photo courtesy of http://facebook.com/ftlauderdalesun).

The nice thing about South Florida is that it's so close to the United States. Heh-heh. I'm hardly the first person to say this, of course. But there is something true about it - in a good kind of way. To me, this means that we are unique. Special. As indeed we are. Our culture, our climate, our vibe all combine to create a distinctly different part of the world. The Republic of SoFla, if you like. I'm not quite sure where the United States begins as you drive north from the Keys. Maybe just the other side of Palm Beach, and certainly by the time you hit Orlando. I've been to Orlando many times, at first by choice, later by necessity. Now I only go there if I'm forced, which thankfully isn't often. Not my favorite place.

But South Florida? We're so far south that we're not anything like the American South. In some ways, SoFla really does feel as if it's a separate country. We're even different from other heavily Latin areas of the U.S. such as Southern California or Texas.

That's why time spent here is delightful, I think. I mentioned the culture, so let's start with that. These days, we're flavored with much more than only Latin American and Caribbean influences. Asian, including Indian, populations are an increasing part of the cultural mix, along with more Europeans and even a smattering of Africans. At least this is what I find as I go around Greater Fort Lauderdale. Their music and food and drinks, their attitudes and traditions become part of the stew that is South Florida. As for our climate, it brings us sunshine and endless summer, obviously, and wonderful beach weather year round. And an extraordinary blend of wildlife and plant life - unique not only in this country but in the world. For instance, the Everglades is the only spot on earth that has both alligators and crocodiles. When you're here, as a resident or tourist, you feel all this somehow. You see and hear the people, you watch the sunlit waves and listen to the squawking wild parrots. And after a time, you begin to dial into that vibe I mentioned, the special atmosphere that makes South Florida what it is. You get some sense that you're in a place that's not like anywhere else, not quite the same ol' United States of America. But close. If you really feel the need to go to more conventional spots in this country, Orlando is just a three hour drive. Why on earth you'd want to do that is another question altogether.

It is September 1st, coconut lovers! Yes, it's coconut season again, that time we've all been waiting for. If you're out of town reading this blog, well, I just wish you could be here for the harvest. At the stroke of midnight, happy teams of coconut pickers began to climb the tall and graceful coconut palms all over Greater Fort Lauderdale. Often two or three "coconut snatchers" will shinny up the same trunk to hand pick the heavy fruit, tossing it carefully to the waiting "coconut catchers" below. Experienced catchers know to wear thick canvas gloves - and hard hats. Ok, ok. Ha! I'm having a little fun with you today. Mostly because I've been thinking about coconuts lately. And because, in truth, it's always coconut season in South Florida. The darn things grow year round like weeds or something.

So September 1st seemed a good time for a bloggy paean to the coconut. This date has historical significance of varying sorts, of course, such as being the anniversary of the beginning of World War Two. But I say forgive and forget. The coconut seems a much more pleasant topic for Hump Day, don't you think?

Anyway, I'm always fascinated by coconuts. It's probably the transplanted northerner in me. Hey, I grew up in the Midwest thinking that coconut existed in the form of  little slivers in plastic bags sold at grocery stores. I remember when my dad visited Florida on business and brought me back a coconut in the husk. Before this, I had no idea what coconuts really looked like. I needed a hammer and screwdriver and lots of effort to get at that coconut's milk, which mostly spilled out when I broke the thing open. Now I live beside a 40-foot coconut palm that is filled with the fruit throughout the year. (Yes, it is fruit by the way. I looked it up.) Every once in a while, I hear a big THUD and know another one bit the dust. On occasion, I'll actually be sitting nearby to watch a brown coconut fall from the tree to the grass beneath. Trust me, you do not want to be knocked in the noggin by a falling coconut - at least not from this tall palm. On the beaches, workers come around to trim the coconut palms for this very reason, just so you tourists won't take a nasty knock. There is much to say about the wonderful coconut and I feel the topic deserves revisiting for another blog soon. Along with our beaches and our sunshine and our palm trees, coconuts are symbols of the tropical lifestyle we enjoy down here. Plus, they're obviously an important part of our economy. Without them, what would all those experienced coconut snatchers and coconut catchers do for work?