SWINGIN' IN THE WIND

    Miami native, artist Ward Shelley, is featured in this month's Artforum magazine.   Ward left the Grove years ago to see what New York living could bring. He and fellow artist, Alex Schweder, teamed up to created a series of live-in sculptures that describe ways we balance our lives.
 

   Their architectural performances have led to latest creation, "ReActor". It sits atop a hill, three hours north of New York City.  The thin house, perched on a pedestal, tilts if those on-board are not "in balance". It also swings in the wind. 

If you ever imagined living on a carnival tilt-a-whirl, ReActor could be the house for you.
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A GREAT MYSTERY: A SIGN OF GOD?

    A friend called last week complaining about the transformation of the tall Coconut Grove office building at the corner of  SW 22 Ave. and U.S. 1. "If it's what I think it is", he said, "watch out". 

   He was referring to the large sign going up out front.   
    What does it spell? 
Let's play Coconut Grove Wheel of Fortune. What do you think these draped letters will reveal when unveiled?

    Will Tom Cruise or John Travolta be here for the occasion?   Will the ghost of L. Ron Hubbard make a guest appearance?

    We've had quite a mix in the Grove for many years. A few Scientologists will only make it more interesting. They've had a spot on Giralda in the Gables for decades. Somehow the City Beautiful has survived.
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TODAY'S TEST

Which of these does not belong?

LAST DANCE AT THE RENO RANCH

        Few have seen the former home of Janet Reno. It sits amidst one of the rare native forests remaining in the crowded Kendall suburbia, where Kendall drive and SW 112 Avenue intersect.
    
    You certainly can't see the former attorney general's home from the road. Vegetation so thick a wild hog could barely run through it blocks the view. A winding dirt path passes a no trespassing sign and leads to the Reno home. It is a simple structure built mostly by Janet's mother, Jane Wood Reno, in the late forties.

       It has been the scene of thousands of gatherings of the large family festooned with many tall, intelligent, rangy Renos. They either gathered outside (there's a lot of "outside" on its four acres) or on the wide front porch. There were many public gatherings there as well including Janet's memorial, last fall.  
   
    My first visit celebrated one of her election victory's when she ran for State Attorney in 1978. I've been to a few others since and they were always filled with down-home joy, adventurous family stories and cold beer. Poetry recitations and song were almost mandatory. 

       Every story has an ending and the last Reno Ranch family gathering took place last Saturday. The house is passing on to a new owner which, as it turns out, is not a bad thing. 


      Eighty-five people gathered in the yard where the four barefoot Reno kids, Janny, Maggy, Bobby, and Mark, once took turns riding Tony the pony. There was plenty of delicious food, libations, and time to share more stories. It was an opportunity to say goodbye to Janet once more and to seventy of years of festive, family gatherings.
    Maggy Hurchalla, Janet's little sister, besides being a political leader and esteemed environmentalist, proved herself to be an outstanding party planner as well.


 
 The guest house out back

       The historic Reno home will be donated to Miami-Dade College. The school's south campus is located just a half-mile away. The distinctive house that Jane built will be preserved. The Reno Ranch will become an extension of the school's environmental center.

      It is a fitting end and an exciting new beginning. Scores of young students will experience a bit of the wilderness that the Reno family has loved. They'll relax on the historic porch as President Clinton did just a few years ago. Like him, they'll marvel at the spacious yard where peacocks still roam. 
    Most things won't change. We're assured the tall Reno-like fowl will continue to all have the same name, "Horace".

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WHAT WILL BECOME OF CHARLIE'S COTTAGE?

  Neighbors were dismayed this week to see a "for sale" sign pop up in front of Charlie Cinnimon's historic cottage. The Grove legend lived there for over fifty years until he passed last November.  
  Charlie's place was built in 1919 in the South Grove at the corner of Plaza Street and Palmetto Avenue.  Between it and Plaza is patch of wild trees which we affectionately call, "Charlie's Woods". How many wooded areas remain in our village, three? The Barnacle's native forest comes to mind.
 
  
    It, like the intersection's other 3 corners, is public land, set aside ninety years ago for all of us to enjoy.

 
   Since Charlie died a number of people expressed interest in preserving his home. It sits on one of two lots, next to "the woods". When none of their suggestions turned into an acceptable offer, Charlie's heirs put the house on the market. The two lots are assesses at $900K. The asking price is $1.6M. No one is going to pay either to live in a 900 sf cottage.

    So what will become of this calming piece of our past? Our biggest fear is that one of the big box developers currently ruining the Grove will try to replicate the cubic monstrosities that we see sprouting up. 
 
The latest ugly, white boxes, a half block from Charlie's place.
   
   It's the last thing Charlie would want. When the property is sold we must stand up for Charlie and village that we love. We will fight any big box developers and their greedy plans. We may not be able to save to cottage but we can demand that something appropriate replaces the simple structure that sheltered our friend next to Charlie's Woods.  
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  TWO WEEK ANNIVERSARY

  We're finally finishing the clean up of the grand wedding party that took place in our back yard two weeks ago.  That's when our Antonia married artist extraordinaire, Carlos Gonzalez, at the Barnacle.  Afterwards we headed back to Palmetto Avenue.

  The north end of our property never looked so good with the fish pond clean, a roaring fire, endless libations, and of course, an ultra-exciting ping pong tournament.  
    How grand it was topped off by Francesca and her sister's creation, the perfect wedding cake!

   

     Mmmm and it tasted as good as it looked.
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TOMB OF THE UNKNOWN WELDER

       I have visited most of the little-known, kitschy tourist attractions in the book "Weird Florida".  I've witnessed the dancing mermaids of Weekee-Wachee Springs, The Singing Tower, and Miami's own Coral Castle. What I never expected was to discover a "new" off-beat landmark myself.
 



    




 Last Tuesday I joined the picket line outside Senator Marco Rubio's Miami office.  I met a woman there who asked, "Our group is going inside to meet with the senator's assistant. Would you like to join us?" I eagerly accepted and headed there at the appointed time.

      Rubio's office is inside a big blue building on NW 36th Street, a half-block from 45's golf course. Signs clearly state that it is the world headquarters of the American Welding Society. I was impressed to walk in and see a wall filled with 95 portraits of the society's past presidents. 


They were etched on metal plates, possibly with tiny welding torches.

       In the middle of the grand entrance to our senator's office was an impressive brown statue of a goggled man about to join two pieces of metal together. This, I later learned, was the Tomb of the Unknown Welder.

The glass doors on the right lead to Senator Rubio's office.

 A security guard filled me in,
 
  In 1986 a building under construction collapsed in Sarasota, Florida. Many people were injured and unfortunately, one was killed. It turned out that he was an undocumented immigrant, highly skilled in the welding trade. He had been working using an alias so his true identity could never be verified.  

   He now kneels for eternity just outside Senator Rubio's office. While the senator supports kicking people like him out of the country, The Unknown Welder isn't going anywhere.
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Note:  a few alternative facts may have been used to create  this story.  I could not verify the security guard's identity either.  
    This fake news thing can be lots of fun but surprisingly, the story below is real. 
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LIAR, LIAR,  
STRANGER THAN FICTION, WEIRD MIAMI

    On Tuesday, -while I was picketing- a Miami defense attorney's pants burst into flames. Steven Gutierrez, 28, was defending an accused arsonist. As he  was making his final argument before a jury alleging "spontaneous combustion", the lawyer's right pant pocket caught on fire. The attorney survived but his client did not. He was was found guilty of intentionally setting his car ablaze. 
   Gutierrez blamed the incident on a faulty e-cigarette. 
They don't call us Flori-duh for nothin'.  
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