By Rebecca Bulnes
By Lee Zimmerman
By Rebecca Bulnes
By S. Pajot
By S. Pajot, Liz Tracy, Kat Bein, & Sean Levisman
By Kat Bein
By Ashley Rogers
Do you think Top 40 radio's only shortcomings are (1) the fact that the musicians aren't playing live for you and (2) the lack of heat mirages rising off a vast field of tanned European buttocks? Well, things are about to change for you, friend.
This pre-Fourth of July weekend, iHeartRadio, Clear Channel's digital streaming service, is teaming up with the Fontainebleau Miami Beach to bring you big radio hits in the flesh and lots of glistening flesh in the flesh. But it won't be only USA and T&A. Saturday afternoon, Calvin Harris will DJ by the pool. And then, after the sequined evening thongs are donned, there will be a "special appearance" by Enrique Iglesias as well as live sets by Maroon 5, Flo Rida, and Gym Class Heroes.
Oh, and there will also be lusty romance.
4441 Collins Ave.
Miami Beach, FL 33140
Category: Hotels and Resorts
Region: South Beach
Enrique Iglesias. Where will he appear? Will you look up from your daiquiri-stained sudoku to see him pulling your cabana curtains closed from the inside? Will he rattle a Tic Tac box produced from his bulging dong sling and say, "Querida, let me show you where the mole went and, more important, where it is going"?
Preparations: Reserve a cabana, order a daiquiri, fill random numbers into your sudoku to impress Enrique.
Worst-Case Scenario: Gamma rays hit the mole and it comes to life, swallowing South Beach before getting nuked by the Air Force in an amazing fireworks show.
Calvin Harris. As you're gliding across the pool on your kickboard, this DJ-producer locks eyes with you. "I may have created disco," he'll mouth from behind the decks, "but swim closer if you want to see what you've created." When you reach him, he shows you a camera-phone shot of how your towel and sunglasses on the chaise accidentally look like a smiley face. Then he makes furious love to you atop his DJ equipment while everyone stands around awkwardly, the music having stopped long ago.
Preparations: Carefully arrange your sunglasses and towel into a smiley face, rent a kickboard from the Fontainebleau spa.
Worst-Case Scenario: You get out of the pool and accidentally knock over all the kickboards belonging to an outlaw kickboard gang and they topple in sequence like so many dominoes. When the gang members notice, they beat you to death with their pool noodles.
Gym Class Heroes. Frontman Travie McCoy and band are known for mixing hip-hop with live rock. What they aren't known for is whispering the poems of Rumi into a fan's ears while all eight of their hands give said fan a full-body massage. Yet that's what happens when you, looking for the bathroom, unwittingly walk into Gym Class Heroes' backstage area. "I think I'm in the wrong place," you stammer. "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field," Travie says, nodding his head. "I will meet you there." True to his word, Travie and the band meet you in that field, and the rest is, well, as Rumi said, "too squishy to be understood by anyone who was not there."
Preparations: Drink a lot of water, put on bug spray.
Worst-Case Scenario: Those jerks never show up in the field!
Flo Rida. As you're enjoying one of his many, many summer jams, Flo Rida reaches down to you from the stage. You're biting into one of the Fontainebleau's awesome marshmallow-stuffed ice-cream bars and you accidentally smear it across your face. "Hey," Flo Rida says. "You make me wish I had called my song 'Ice-Cream Bar' instead of 'Whistle.'"
Preparations: Get an ice-cream bar and wait.
Worst-Case Scenario: You eat the ice cream, Flo Rida doesn't notice you, and then it's time to go swimming to wash the glob of ice cream off your belly.
Maroon 5. All of the European models crowd the stage, and you, glum and unloved, are left stuck by the bin for used towels. Midsong, Adam Levine spots you in the shadows and asks security to escort you to the stage. "Press your ear against my abs," he says. The acoustics formed by their curves are better than those in Frank Gehry's New World Center. When the concert ends, Adam must jet off to the next city. But his assistant hands you a bottle of Cipro with a thank-you note tucked inside that compliments you on your eyes, even if it doesn't mention what color they are or how many you have.
Preparations: Take out your earrings.
Worst-Case Scenario: The assistant forgets the Cipro. A strange rash appears on your ear and spreads across your body until you have to beg a beach vagrant to hit you over the head with a rock and not stop until he can't lift the rock anymore.