Manifest Destiny

That’s Miami for you, a three-ring circus. What happens at 2 pm meetings can often reflect a decision made at 4 am

Go, West, young celebrity-stalking man!

By Jon Warech

There is something that needs to be said. “I hate Tim Hardaway. I let it be known I don’t like crossover dribblers. I don’t like to be around crazy-eyebrowed people. I’m Timophobic. He shouldn’t be in the world, in the United States. I don’t like him.” I call that Miami Mad Libs. See, you take a quote from someone who has lost his or her mind in this town and replace the key phrases with whatever phrases you like. In this case all “gay” references were replaced with a reference to the dumbass that made the comment last week. Am I on glue or did Timmy become white trash without telling anyone?

Anyway, his comments are exactly what I love about Miami. See, something crazy always happens here. National news is always developing from the Magic City. In fact, I used to be confused as to why Miami was called the Magic City, but as it turns out, when you wish upon a group of D-list, has-been, fame-fading stars, journalistic dreams come true.

Where else can Lindsay Lohan check herself into a hospital after a week of hard partying? Where else can Tara Reid (below) stumble around town and sleep with former athletes? Where else can a Marilyn Monroe wannabe come to buy a boat and end up sleeping with the fishes? I’ll tell you where … Los Angeles.

And because the stars are a tad brighter, the breasts a tad bigger and the IQ level a tad lower, I’m moving across the country to LA-LA Land just before this issue of the SunPost disappears from newsstands. I mean, Britney Spears had her moments in this town, but she totally lost her mind (and her hair) last week in LA – so I must go there immediately. In my mind, it’s quite possibly the greatest westward movement since the gold rush of 1849. But, hell, if I wanted a Gold Rush, we have a pretty good one here. (Just ask Colin Farrell.) I’m just following the action and seeing first-hand what Hollywood and all its star power have to offer.

But, I’m leaving a Miami that is flourishing in the world of celebritism. Just last week George Clooney partied at Mokai after dining at Quattro and sipping cocktails at Bond Street; Britney Spears sunbathed at the Four Seasons before wigging-out (pun very much intended); and Julia Stiles dined at O Asian Grill before partying at Set until nearly 4 a.m. Stiles is even rumored to have purchased a pad in the Waverly, so she seems to be here to stay. This all comes just after a star-studded Super Bowl and before an eat, drink and be merry festival that, at the very least, will include Catherine Zeta-Jones and (BAM!) Emeril Lagasse.

Miami is absolutely nuts though, and I’m going to miss it.

Everyone here thinks they are a celebrity. Currently there is no better example than Judge Larry Seidlin, who seems determined to walk away as a movie star after presiding over the Anna Nicole Smith burial trial in BroCo. He’s going on and on talking about himself, running the courtroom like a three-ring circus and making MSNBC reporters cringe with every statement. I love every second of it and if I were a betting man (for the record, my first LA-Vegas run will take place March 15), I would say it’s only a matter of time before Seidlin hosts Lapdance Tuesdays at Privé.

That’s Miami for you — a three-ring circus in its own right. What happens at 2 p.m. meetings around town can often reflect a decision made at 4 a.m. the night before in the bathroom of a nightclub. Businessmen and women by day, rock stars by night — movers and shakers mixing with models and celebrities to create all sorts of craziness that is second to none in the nation. Meanwhile, I’m moving to LA, where the only person I know is a buddy of mine who made the move from Miami to follow his dream to be an actor. One year later, he has landed one role as — I kid you not — “ball scratcher #1” in an independent short. That’s what I got going in LA. Does that make me crazy? I think it just might. But from what I hear, LA likes crazy, so a Miami native should fit right in.

That said, I would like to thank everyone who made my job here fun. From the PR folks to the regular club crawlers to promoters and owners to fellow media members, everyone here has made this quite an experience. I could list all of your names — those I consider friends and those I just pretended to like (just kidding) — but I think you can all look around the room on any given night and figure out who makes this city special. There is nothing better than getting paid to hang out on South Beach, chitchat about locals and schmooze about celebrity gossip with each and every one of you. When it comes to the Magic City, there will always be something (or someone) to talk about. Today it may be Tim Hardaway or Britney Spears or Howard K. Stern. Tomorrow, who knows? Miami is guaranteed to continue to make news and definitely give me something to laugh about, even on the West Coast. So long Miami. Keep on partying and making this city magical.

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