Me o my am me thirtyone… 3.31.24

Me o my am me thirtyone… 3.31.24

I got u earlier than usual. I checked the Setai Hotel and sure enough it said there was a special event; an Easter Brunch. Reservations required. Also I saw that there was another concert by a supposedly famous sax player; also from 11-4 pm. Wow. This was working out like clockwork. I could go to Jeans, concert at 20th and then walk down to the other place at 14th and then go to sit on the beach. 

 I  prepared my meals and my breakfast in record time. I was running out of food. All I had left were some frozen veggies, half a cauliflower, unlimited quinoa and unlimited beans. I was even running out of pepper from the pepper shaker (and that never happens) and soy sauce. No eggs for breakfast. I could have rushed to the Publix store but that would take a good hour. I just made oatmeal with water and ½ of a browning banana. 

My goal was to hit the bus stop at 10 am and I did a good job of getting there by 10:15. Just as I came up I saw a 100 bus leaving. Damn. Then miraculously as it pulled out, there was another 100 bus. Before I could get there, it too pulled out. Damn. Deja veu. Miraculously though, another 100 bus rounded the corner and pulled up to me just as I got to the bus stop. It must be the deployment of the 100 buses I surmised. 

I got on the bus and amazingly I was the only person on the bus, all the way to Miami Beach. I felt like a real VIP.  I rode bus past my normal South Pointe Beach Spot. 

I found the hotel with no problem. It was huge. Walking inside I saw that this was a very elegant place. Think Hilton; Think Hyatt. The lobby was decorated with ancient Asian statues and beautiful paintings. There were pools and fountains. There was a hum from all the waiters and waitresses buzzing around. I felt out of my element with my raggedy saxcase, my bulging backpack, and my insulated food box. 

I walked to the entrance to the elaborate banquet where the event was being held. There were 2 people. The one who seemed to be in charge looked me up and down. She nodded to the man at her side. For some reason he didn’t do anything and I just walked in like I was suppossed to be there. Once in I quickly scanned the place and noticed a bar back behind the bar. I sat in the corner. No one was looking at or coming after me. 

The band had already started. It was already 11:30. The band was just starting their second set. I walked up on the bandstand. “Jean”. He turned around to see me and he seemed pleased that I had come. How many people do what they say they going to do these days. 

Right away I could see that this guy WAS great. He was playing a flugelhorn, which is like a trumpet but with a more mellow tone. Even though it was “old music” every note played was great. His sound was almost palpable. It brought forth images in my mind of golden shapes and birds. I knew most of the songs but not all. There was a singer also. She sounded a lot like Billy Holiday. Jagged notes falling out of the sky and melting wet on my face. In fact, the other players were great too. Great guitar, great drummer. These were among the best players in South Florida. 

Even though I was behind the band, it still sounded great. A few times I walked around to the front of the band to hear the difference. Not much. Coming back, I looked into the buffet room. Oh my. It was full on. There were containers of lobster, shrimp, crabs, oysters, prime cut meats, blueberries, yogurts, deserts. 

I went back to me seat. I had to make a big decision. I was already in the event. Perhaps I could also go to the buffet. Who would know? I debated back and forth as beautiful diners all dressed up in colorful easter dresses and bonnets glided by with dishes full of salmon and deserts. Hey. Not fair. How can I make a good decision when you are tempting me so. 

The sounds interrupted my musings. Wasn’t this enough. Maybe a younger Frank would have pushed it, but I was listening to great music and no one was bothering me. I had my gruel anyway. 

At about 12:30, I reluctanly pulled myself away. I guess they weren’t going to take a break. For the kind of money they were pulling, maybe they shouldn’t take a break. I said goodbye to Jean with sign language and a big thumbs up. 

I walked down to the next place on my list, Bugsy’s. I walked in. this was a far cry from the Setai. Still it was nice. There was a woman giving complentary small wine glasses. I took it and asked about the sax player. “There is no sax player today sir; only a pianist. I showed her the listing. She shrugged. 

I thought, hmmm… my adventure is like that old joke about the guy who is flying and there is engine failure. It’s one very bad thing followed by one good thing. He is falling in his plane, the engine dies. Luckily he had a parachute. That’s good. Unfortunately the parachute doesn’t open, thats bad. Fortunately there is a haystack beneath him. Thats good. Unfortunatley there is a pitchfork in the haystack. Thats bad. Luckily he misses the pitchfork. Thats good. Unluckily he missed the pitchfork. That;s good. Unluckily, he missed the haystack…xxxxxxx. 

The Setai was good. The Bugsy was bad. My next stop in the plan was the beach. I could have walked the 14 blocks but with all my stuff I decided to wimp out and wait for the trolley. A couple from Africa or Haiti was also on the trolley. They asked me for help. “Where’s the beach?” I told them I was going to the beach. “You can follow me.” I gave them my Miami Beach South spiel as if I were a tour guide. “You have to go to Lincoln Blvd. You have to go to the Bass Museum.” They nodded. They seemed so out of it. I led them to the South Pointe Promenade where I would play later. “We will come see you. “ they were so appreciative. Appaarently they couldn’t check into their hotels till later. 

For my part, I was thrilled to be at the beach by 1:30. That left me a lot of beach time. I looked out at the beach expectantly and for the first time since venturing this far south, there were no waves at all. What happened? 

I resigned myself to not body surfing on this day. Nap. That’s what I need. I wanted to take a long nap in the beautiful weather. I found what I thought would be a good spot in a high muffin density area. I laid all my stuff out, being careful to protect my sax. Just as I got comfortable and ready to dive into unconsciousness a new neighbor arrived with a poom poom poon. Ahhhh reggaeton. 

I had to move. It was driving me crazy. Even with my ear canceling headphones. I had to move to a less dense area. The closer I was to the water the better I could just hear water waves and less Pum pumpum. I was able to take my nap. After about 20 minutes I woke up. 

I decided I would go in the water even though there were no waves.