Touring the 100-year-old city of Opa-locka

I enjoyed a fun and educational historic walking tour of Opa-locka on Saturday morning. My group of nearly 20 people from native Miamians and transplants to visitors, got to see many of the buildings that reflect the Moorish revival flourishes found throughout the city of 16,000 residents, which was developed by aviation and motorcycle pioneer Glenn Curtiss in 1926. (He also developed the neighboring cities of Hialeah and Miami Springs but that's probably a different tour.)

The city’s name traces back to what the Seminole Indians called the area, Opatishawockalocka, which was a barren landscape with palmetto scrub. The tour began at the desert-yellow Opa-locka Museum of Art and History, which was the former Seaboard Air Line Railroad station built in 1927. The original Spanish-tile mosaics still adorn the building’s exterior with an iridescent sheen. (Next door is the Tri-rail Opa-locka stop and you can hear the LOUD Amtrak trains blare their horns regularly as they zip by, reminding visitors of the area's early transportation roots.)

Mr. Curtiss had hired New York City architect Bernhard E. Muller to design the domes, minarets, and Moorish-styled buildings that were inspired by the book "The 1001 Tales From the Arabian Nights." That’s why the streets have names like Alibaba, Aladdin and Sharazad in this city which is about 10 miles northwest of Miami. Another stand out building with its grand Persian arches was the historic Opa-locka Company Administration Building which was the largest of the Moorish Revival-style buildings in the city and served as a real estate office and later as city hall. The main arch was so big that city buses could travel through it at one point. The building is painted in a warm earthy tone and has been used for community events.

Alex Van Mecl, our fabulous guide who sports a blue cap as a nod to Mr. Curtiss who was known for wearing such caps, created the 15-stop Heritage Trail that we visited on the 90-minute tour which flew by with his colorful and entertaining historical summaries. There is another tour at 10:30 a.m. Dec. 5 and one at 5:30 p.m. Jan. 8. (The streets are saying that there may be wine at the January walk.) To learn more about the tours, follow the Discover Opa-locka page on Instagram.

Finding Colby: My Review of "The Mysterious Disappearance of Colby Blue"

The Mysterious Disappearance of Colby Blue by Eric Vasallo
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

“The Mysterious Disappearance of Colby Blue,” by Eric Vasallo follows a sweet, geeky middle school student who always felt like an other and different, someone who didn’t belong among his classmates and playing sports. (It didn’t help that his father named him after a type of cheese, a constant source of ribbing from fellow students.)
A lover of books about space, explorations and pioneers, Colby enjoys gazing at the night sky studded with stars and other galaxies. Mature for his age, he feels that there is more out there and that he is meant for bigger things, whatever that is, on or off Earth.
After tragedy strikes and leaves him an orphan, Colby finds a new home on the sweeping Rose Lawn farm estate with the Bookmans, an overbearing couple who love all things books. As Colby adapts to his new life with them, he hatches a plan to create a tower of books to reach the stratosphere. With help from a friendly owl and blue jay, Colby’s dream comes true. The tower and Colby’s intentions catch the attention of wise, benevolent beings, space and dimensional voyagers who help him tap into his infinite potential. They teach him how we are all connected in the universe and the importance of finding your inner strength and value.
The author’s passion for books shines brightly throughout the novel, a love letter to the literary word. Colby’s adoptive parents, appropriately-titled the Bookmans, regularly rescue abandoned books and collect them in their home for preservation. For the couple, “nothing in life was satisfying as the feel of a crisp, dry book page and its warm fabric binding” and “the sensation comforted them like a favorite teddy bear,” as the author writes. And then there’s Colby’s daily routine to “read an adventure for dinner to have something delightful to dream about.” Books are literally supporting characters in this novel and how they shape and enliven us.
“The Mysterious Disappearance of Colby Blue” is a lovely, charming, sweet story about a young man discovering himself as he seeks answers to life’s big questions by simply looking up and wondering at the universe we live in. He reminds readers of that time in your life when you were innocent, imaginative and anything was within reach if you willed it.
Although the book is intended for the middle-school set and young adults, I think it would be an enjoyable and relatable read to people of all ages. There’s a little Colby in all of us.

My dear old friend Eric Vasallo wrote this book and I saw the evolution over the years. I'm glad the book (and Colby Blue) are out in the world for others to discover.

My Journey with Bladder Cancer, 10 Years Later

From the good news desk: After 10 years, more than a dozen cystoscopies (I lost count after the 8th one), two major surgeries, a potent blast of chemo and endless anxiety whenever I peed, I am bladder cancer free. My urologist Dr. David Robbins, who has cared for me since this whole journey began in 2016, told me the good news after my recent visit, “We can stop following you,” he said. “We don’t need to torture you anymore.” This was after my last cystoscopy (not a fun procedure which I won’t miss anytime soon.) A few years ago, I posted a detailed account of what led me to see him, the mysterious red specks, his diagnosis, the surgeries and recoveries because bladder cancer is a topic most people, especially men, don’t like to talk about. But former NFL player and current coach Deion Sanders helped changed that last year when he revealed he had an aggressive form of bladder cancer which led to the removal of his bladder, which was replaced with one made from his intestines. I am linking to my previous blog post about my journey but the takeaway then and now is, Please look down at your urine as you pee. Attached is a photo with Dr. Robbins from my recent office visit because I don’t know when I will see him again although I adore him. Hopefully, not for a long time.

An Ode to Gata Linda

This is a tribute to Gata Linda Diaz, (yes, she was so part of our family that she took our last name.) Out of the blue a few decades ago (I won't say the year to not age my older sister and myself,) this beautiful little gray fluffy cat with emerald green eyes suddenly appeared one afternoon at the door of our house in mid-Miami Beach (between Pine Tree Drive and Alton Road.) The cat chose well (although my sister and I theorized that the Latina lady who took care of our elderly French neighbor Marie somehow encountered the kitten and placed her on our property but we were never able to prove that but the cat seemed to know her. LOL.) The little cat, which looked like a mix of a Persian and a stray, always lingered by our house until one day, my sister (Cary) and I scooped her up in our arms and we went, house to house, for over four blocks, asking fellow homeowners and residents, "Is this your cat?" No one recognized her. My conservative but loving Cuban Papi wouldn't let her inside the house but he was okay with her outside our house, where we fed and interacted with her.

The cat became a regular presence outside our house. I was a student at F.I.U. at the time. We gradually fell in love with her as she slowly slipped into our hearts. But then, one day after I came home following a day of journalism classes and interning at The Miami Herald in the Hialeah/Miami Lakes office, I discovered a tiny underdeveloped kitten outside our front door on the welcome mat. Gata Linda unfortunately miscarried. It broke my heart as well as that of my dad, my sister and my mom. From then on, we let Gata Linda stay inside the garage which was huge and spacious. Then we decided to fix her (spade her) and let her inside the house in a cage/crate (temporarily) while she recovered where she was super high from the drugs and kept meowing loudly. Eventually, she calmed down and we let her roam freely around the house (three bedrooms, three bathrooms) and she was super happy at home with the super cool A/C. She made our house her home.

Her favorite spot: Sitting in the dining room window and looking out at the traffic on West 51st Street. (On a side note, she would sit near my dad at our dinner table for weekly Sunday lunches because he would throw scraps of chicken her way which she loved.) Then she figured out other ways to get attention. If anyone of us (or my bestfriend Cindy at the time and me) were watching a movie in the family room, Gata Linda would stand in front of the TV set, her silhouette disrupting whatever movie or program we were watching. And then she (the cat) would splay herself across the tiles of the main hallway so we would have to pay attention to her when we walked by. My little second cousins from Kendall absolutely loved hugging her and took photos with her. Gata Linda was also very intuitive or just psychic. She seemed to know the day and time when the mobile groomer would arrive because she would suddenly...disappear and hide under my parent's bed. Gata Linda must have picked up on the words "appointment" or "cita" and "groomer" in phone conversations in the house because...she knew and vanished! And when the friendly groomer showed up, we had to extract her from under the bed and she would start peeing everywhere like a garden sprinkler all over the kitchen which made my mom laugh really hard. And for some reason, Gata Linda seemed to have a fixation with my bedroom. Whenever I went clubbing in South Beach on Thursday or Friday nights and I happened to leave my bedroom door open (BIG MISTAKE), the cat used my bed as her personal kitty litter. Not fun especially when I had to drive to Hollywood, Fort Lauderdale or Pembroke Pines as a fulltime cub reporter for the Broward City Desk at The Miami Herald to report breaking news the following morning. (She was obsessed with my room for some reason and shopping bags.)

Don't get me wrong. I absolutely loved that cat. I would pick her up from the vet and grooming appointments where I discovered, to my surprise, that she was listed as "Gata Linda Diaz." Que? But after I moved to Boston, my bedroom was off limits. Whenever I visited, she would meow outside my door and I would cautiously let her in, as long as I could observe her. In the last two years of her life, I remember calling my parents each night (super Cuban thing) and my mom had a tendency of using the speaker phone in the kitchen and her conversations reverberated throughout the house, so when Gata Linda heard my voice, she would rush to my bedroom door and meow and meow outside my door. Such a sweet thing. She remembered me (and my bed.) I look back at my birthday photos and she was there, for 11 in all, in my arms.

The Real Housewives of Bravo

I watch a lot of TV, probably too much, especially when they are reality shows on the Bravo network. I'm a regular viewer of "The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills" and sister franchises including Miami, Potomac, Atlanta and Salt Lake City. It helps having a Peacock subscription. Over the years, some of the cast members have found themselves in legal trouble including among the most recent, Wendy Osefo of the Potomac season. I recently rounded up some of the legal challenges with updates and how some of the Housewives have overcome them. Here is a link to my New York Times article.

Hanging at the Cardozo South Beach

 

Photo by Johnny Diaz

Ever since I wrote a news feature about the $15 million renovation of the Cardozo South Beach hotel by Emilio and Gloria Estefan in 2019 for the South Florida Sun Sentinel, my old paper, I've always wanted to stay at the hotel.

The Cardozo South Beach is a charming, three-story hotel at 1300 Ocean Drive right in the heart of South Beach. As part of a recent staycation (Thanksgiving week off,) I finally had the opportunity to stay at the hotel which is steeped in Miami Beach's Art Deco history.

Part of their interior makeover was including some personal accessories from their Star Island estate such as furniture, chairs and art work which line the halls.

"It is a lot of art that was hanging in my house," Mr. Estefan told me by the elevator in the hotel's lobby back in 2019 during a ribbon cutting and a packed media event.

"I wanted to remodel and instead of throwing it out, we brought it here and it looks good," he continued.

On a recent Monday, I checked in just before 4 p.m. and the process was smooth and breezy. The hallways were bright, cool, clean and painted in a faded mint hue with carpets that carried geometric patterns.

The end of each hallway featured enlarged photos of Emilio and Gloria Estefan from magazine covers in case you didn't know who owned the hotel. 

Emilio Estefan over my shoulders in the hallway. Photo by Johnny Diaz

Gloria Estefan watches over guests from the hallway. Photo by Johnny Diaz

But there are also enlarged photos of movies that shot in and around the Cardozo over the years. They include black and white images from "Marley and Me" and "There's Something About Mary" which line the second floor.  The third floor is dedicated to the 1996 comedy "The Bird Cage" starring Nathan Lane and the late Robert Williams.

Ode to 'The Bird Cage." Emilio Estefan at the end. Photos by Johnny Diaz

Built in 1939, the hotel was originally called the Cardozo Hotel and designed by Henry Houser. The hotel was named after Benjamin Cardozo, one of the first Jewish jurors on the U.S. Supreme Court. During World War II, the Cardozo became a housing facility for recruits and trainees. The building still carries its classic Art Deco style and curved lines which are accentuated by the modern bright orange awnings and umbrellas that shade guests from the sweltering sun on the first floor.  The top of the hotel (look at the top photo) features a sailing American flag and the rainbow-hued Pride flag, a welcome mat to all.

My room, #219, was literally all white, from the walls and cabinetry to the beds while the floors had beige tiles. I opted for a room with two queen-size beds because I like to switch from one to the other each night. The beds were soft and comfortable enough to sit back and watch my favorite TV shows and local news programs such as WSVN's "Deco Drive."  But the sereneness of the room also provided a great little writing cocoon. My room was on the west side of the hotel overlooking the courtyard so I was away from the cars and bars blasting music nearby.

My lovely super white room. Photo by Johnny Diaz

The peacefulness allowed me to have some creative writing time for my next novel "The Golden Boys" which will follow in my "Boston Boys Club" series about gay Cuban-American professionals and their friends who are looking for Mr. Right while dealing with everyday life challenges with the help of their closest friends in Boston, Miami, Providence and Ogunquit.

My messy handwriting/notes on the bed. That's how I write.

The bathroom was elegant, beautiful and narrow. No bathtub but there was a glass-encased shower where you had to open two sliding glass doors on each side to step in and out of.  It had a classic Miami feel and reminded me of a bathroom you might see in the stateroom of a vintage luxury cruise liner. But I wouldn't recommend attempting the "Wonder Woman" spin in the shower stall. Tight quarters.

Ignore my messy bath mat towel. Photo by Johnny Diaz.

When I wasn't in my room, I enjoyed strolling along the seawall on Ocean Drive all the way to South Pointe Park where I sat on a cement bench and watched the colossal cruise ships glide by at sunset. I grew up in Miami Beach and this was something I often did on my bicycle as a teenager, college student and adult before I moved to Boston and eventually back to Miami a few years ago.

Is there something big behind me?

The hotel has a bar and a restaurant downstairs called "Call Me Cuban" which was bustling with guests and diners who were entertained by live musicians whose voices and music flowed out onto the street. Next door is an attached coffee and dessert place called "Estefan's Express Kitchen" where I had a super sweet and thick flan in a glass and a soft chocolate gooey cookie. (I have a big sweet tooth.)

Said flan topped with vanilla ice cream. Photo Johnny Diaz. 

When I wanted to read a book or follow the latest news on my phone, I headed downstairs to the courtyard where I sat under one of the big tables (also covered with orange umbrellas) and enjoyed the soothing ocean breeze. Orange and white is a theme here.

My rate was $176 a night because I had the courtyard view but rates can be at least $126 a night especially weekdays, depending on the time of year. Also, there is a large city parking garage right behind the alley of the hotel with an overnight fee of $20.

Overall, a lovely quick stay. I'll be back for another staycation or writing retreat.

The lovely courtyard. Photo by...you should know by now. 

The Golden Boys

Coming in the near future my seventh novel “The Golden Boys.” Tommy Perez, a sweet OCD Cuban American national journalist who is suddenly single after a divorce in Wilton Manors and is starting over and trying to find his footing. But he finds love and support from his sexy Italian wingman Rico in Boston and his fellow gay Cuban buddy Carlos in Providence who are dealing with their own romantic and health challenges as they approach 50. These members of the Boston Boys Club have each other’s backs as they navigate their unique personal issues over the course of a year. In the spirit of my previous novels, TGB will celebrate the power of good unconditional friendships and the neverending search for Mr. Right. I keep hearing from friends and readers who are 50 and older and how they feel invisible in today’s dating (and hookup) scene and hopefully my book will shine a light on this gay dating desert.

Here is a link to my previous six novels.

Gay History, one artifact, book at a time

Tucked away inside a small building in downtown Fort Lauderdale is the Stonewall National Museum, Archives and Library. For the past five decades, this little library/institution that could has chronicled the history and culture of the LGBTQ history.

In addition to gay novels and biographies, you will find more than 30,000 DVDs and artifacts that reflect the LGTBQ community. They include a gold record from The Village People, a pair of leather pants worn by singer Ricky Martin and the gavel that former House speaker Nancy Pelosi used to formally end the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy, which made it illegal for gays and lesbians to openly serve in the military.

I recently visited Stonewall and wrote about the budget cuts and funding shortfalls it has been facing under the current political climate for a story for my paper, The New York Times. The facility is a treasure trove of LGBT history. Below is the print version of my article from this month.

By chance, my former newspaper, the South Florida Sun Sentinel, generously (yay!) picked up the story and published it on its front page last week. (story is on the lower right.)