Arts & Entertainment

When Vince Valholla established his eponymous label in 2005, his goal was to help usher in a new era of the music business. Within the past decade, Valholla Entertainment has expanded to offer artists management and public relations guidance as well as publishing, video production, apparel, and merchandising support. Within the past year, the brand has advanced the careers of its musicians, including Webbz and Xali. The label also manages a slew of rising MCs such as SIN and Ron Slyda, as well as producers like the Pyrvmids and the Track Burnaz, who produce hit records for top-charting rappers like Future and Big Sean. The Valholla blog continues to stunt on the competition by using its national reach on social media to alert 20,000-plus followers of artist updates. While other Miami-based labels gloat about their accolades, Valholla Entertainment's staff and team of artists are winning over fans one song at a time.

Brendan Tobin is the hardest-working personality on Miami sports radio — and it's not even a close contest. In addition to his duties as producer of 790 the Ticket's morning show, Zaslow, Romberg, and Amber, he also hosts the station's 1- to-3 p.m. show alongside former NFL running back Leroy Hoard and jack-of-all-trades Brian London. Then, to top it all off, Tobin heads up a weekend MMA-centric gig called Fighter's Fury. Yet he isn't dialing it in. Through those countless hours of airtime, he consistently delivers a fun and knowledgeable vibe. Let's be honest: We need the brief respite of good sports chatter more than ever given the dumpster fire raging in global politics. Who really wants to tune into an angry host spouting off and battling irate callers for three hours? Miami wants a chance to laugh and maybe learn a little something about their favorite franchises. Tobin has this formula perfected. From his video and audio talents to his fake-call bits to his terrible yet somehow addictive Jay Ajayi impression, he'll keep you coming back for more.

Readers' choice: DJ Laz

Sports radio doesn't need to be so damn serious. Who needs endless hours of x's and o's or unending debates about who will start at left guard for the Dolphins discussed with all the gravity of the latest North Korean missile test? Besides, sports fans in 2017 have probably already spent hours upon hours ingesting enough of that kind of content on Twitter. Sports radio should be fun. It should feel like you're two IPAs deep at a sports bar, kicking it with a buddy, looking up at the TV, and hollering, "Can you believe how well Dion Waiters played this year?" When you tune into 560 WQAM's Hochman, Crowder, and Krantz, that's exactly what you'll get. Every weekday from 2 to 6 p.m., this show gives fans a fresh, fun, and informed take on the day's sports happenings. Veteran sports talker Marc Hochman is joined by sidekick Zach Krantz and former Dolphins linebacker Channing Crowder, and the three get on and argue good-naturedly like, well, buddies knocking back IPAs at the local watering hole. Pop open a local brew and join the conversation.

Full disclosure: Jim DeFede spent roughly a decade crafting brilliant investigative stories and weekly columns for New Times back in the Wild West days of the '90s, when Gianni Versace roamed Ocean Drive and Lincoln Road was still full of bohemians. But while DeFede has long left the ragtag world of alt-weekly malcontents behind, his reporting is sharper than ever. During last year's U.S. Senate race, he outed Democratic challenger Patrick Murphy as a fraud. Murphy, who was running to unseat incumbent Marco Rubio, had claimed to be a certified public accountant and a self-made small-business owner. But DeFede showed that neither of those claims was quite true and that Murphy had exaggerated his resumé to make himself seem like something more than just the son of a rich dude. The report caught national attention and potentially stopped voters from helping to elect a liar. Which ended up giving us six more years of Marco Rubio. Hey, all you can do is dig up the truth and hope for the best! DeFede has been doing just that longer and better than anyone else in town.

Most TV-news anchors are drab automatons, trapped in identical suits and dresses, stuck reading near-identical news about shootings, muggings, and dogs that can water-ski. WSVN's Belkys Nerey is a breath of fresh air. The Cuban-born, Florida International University-educated anchor eschews the teased-up TV hair for a simple pixie cut. She ditches the always-grave, forever-serious anchor voice for a Miami-accent-tinged reading style that — gasp! — actually has real human personality. This was a huge year for news in Miami, from the death of Fidel Castro to the election of Donald Trump, and Nerey was a constant, reassuring presence on the air no matter the subject. In fact, she even hosts a 30-minute cooking show called Bites With Belkys that injects some literal spice into the TV-news landscape.

Readers' choice: Belkys Nerey

Working as a weather forecaster in Miami is much more fun than in most American cities — and truth be told, the job is a more important one here than almost anywhere else. Every summer and fall, South Florida residents dash off a prayer and hope a vengeful God doesn't level the city with an epic tropical cyclone. And CBS 4's Craig Setzer is dedicated to making sure Miamians know every single twist, turn, and tendril that makes up each storm. Setzer is an unabashed weather nerd and an adrenaline-hunting storm-chaser, the sort of person willing to drive right into the middle of a tempest just to see nature's awesome power. But Setzer isn't just some plastic TV talking-head: He's an instructor at the National Hurricane Center, a guest lecturer at the University of Miami's Rosenstiel School of Marine and Atmospheric Science (RSMAS), and serves on the RSMAS Advisory Board for its Masters of Professional Sciences Program. Before moving to Miami, he spent his time chasing tornadoes. Now, he uses his mastery of weather science to — hopefully — prep the Magic City before the big one shows up again.

In a blatant attempt at a Friday-afternoon news dump, Miami-Dade State Attorney Kathy Fernandez Rundle quietly announced in March that no one would be punished for the death of Darren Rainey. Rundle couldn't keep the decision on the down-low, though. Condemnation soon exploded over the decision not to charge prison guards who'd locked Rainey, a schizophrenic man serving time for cocaine possession, in a steaming shower until he died on the floor, skin peeling off his body. But Rainey's grotesque death would never have been public knowledge without the work of Miami Herald reporter Julie K. Brown. In 2014, her front-page story about Rainey's agonizing last moments appalled readers, creating enough pressure that Rundle had to open an investigation. When Rundle's office inexplicably decided this past March not to press charges, Brown didn't back down. She followed up by obtaining thousands of pages of records, including, most striking, photos that showed the skin coming off Rainey's body. It was exactly the kind of hard-hitting reporting for which Brown is known. In more than a decade at the Herald, she has established a track record of exposing injustice, including suspicious prison deaths such as Rainey's and the now-infamous harassment of store clerk Earl Sampson, who was arrested by Miami Gardens cops at his workplace 258 times in four years. Brown's important work is journalism at its best, holding public officials accountable and giving a voice to the voiceless.

The world's cinephiles got a welcome reunion with their favorite Scottish ne'er-do-wells this year thanks to T2:Trainspotting, the long-awaited sequel to the iconic film about drugged-out Glaswegians. The film was also a wonderful reminder, though, that the man who created these colorful characters has made a winter home in South Beach for more than a decade. Though Irvine Welsh has stated in interviews that he's been loath to make the 305 his full-time residence — what with all the warm weather and cultural goings-on constantly distracting him from writing — Miami has been the place where he's recharged his batteries and done countless hours of people-watching as inspiration for his latest works chronicling fascinating mischief-makers. In recent years, Welsh has cranked out a novel a year, including 2014's The Sex Lives of Siamese Twins, 2015's A Decent Ride, and 2016's The Blade Artist. So all of that Dade County humidity must be doing something right for his creative juices.

The age of rogue bloggers making huge waves in the music and fashion worlds has, sadly, passed. But some independent Florida bloggers still have the social media heft to move the needle. And in the 305, one group of writers is changing the music scene while doing everything in its power to give Miami artists a voice online and in the streets. Meet Citrus Rap. Since its inception in 2015, the team of nearly a dozen writers has been repping tunes from top-charting natives and helping new artists make names for themselves. Citrus Rap has bolstered the rise of hometown icons such as Kodak Black, Pouya, Robb Banks, and Denzel Curry by spreading their talents to the blog's 27,500 combined followers on Twitter and Instagram. The well-crafted content ranges from interviews with Miami rappers and trending MCs like Post Malone to branded series such as Florida's Natural and The Juice. Though its specialty is music, Citrus Rap also boosts local fashion designers and their unique brands. Once festival season rolls around, Citrus Rap teams up with Rolling Loud and promotes local shows with headlining artists like Lil Pump, Wifisfuneral, Smokepurpp, XXXTentacion, and Ski Mask the Slump God. Miami is lucky to have such a thriving constellation of talent in our backyard — and we're equally lucky Citrus Rap is here to point us toward the next stars in the making.

Ask any Dade resident and they'll rattle off five problems with their hometown in a matter of seconds, but photographer Oasis Jae isn't here to focus on the negative. His timeline is filled with snapshots taken around Miami from unique angles that even longtime locals have never seen. Jae highlights the carrot-orange hue splattered among the clouds as the sun rises over the ocean in Miami Beach, and makes Metrorail look mighty as he catches a train car speeding through downtown. The gifted photographer can transform a flight of stairs inside Vizcaya Museum & Gardens into a work of art. His nearly 54,000 Instagram followers have taken notice. As a professional photographer for the University of Miami Hurricanes, Jae spends his days snapping sharp team photos on and off the field. But his Instagram page reflects his true passion for capturing the best of life in the 305. In his nighttime shots, a midnight-black sky is a striking backdrop for the crimson-red light beaming from the Freedom Tower. Oasis Jae can teach Miamians a thing or two about the true beauty of their metropolis.

Ana Navarro is a Republican strategist with a standing invitation on CNN, but it's her Twitter feed — in all of its Trump-bashing, MAGA-dismantling glory — that has rocketed the Miami resident to new levels of political fame. The Nicaraguan-American grew up idolizing Ronald Reagan and worked for Jeb Bush and John McCain. But horrified by the rise of the Donald, she became an early queen of the #NeverTrump handle. Now she spends hours every day striking out at the party hypocrites still backing the Cheeto Jesus, and she never pulls punches. When Newt Gingrich recently parroted Sean Hannity's insane conspiracy theories about a murdered Democratic National Committee staffer, she whacked him over the head with his wife's new gig as ambassador to the Holy See: "Good thing he'll have access to Vatican. Can squeeze in a confession & plea for absolution," she tweeted. When news leaked that Trump had called fired FBI head James Comey a "nut job" to the Russians, she tweeted, "Folks, Trump's best defense is dementia." And as the Donald's tweets have gotten ever more insane, she pulled from her Miami street cred to invent a new hashtag for the disaster-in-chief: #PresidentLoco. Got 'em!

Readers' choice: Billy Corben (@BillyCorben)

Parties: Fun. Finding party venues in Miami: Excruciating. Unless you want to get ripped off, you'll spend hours scouring reviews, mapping GPS sites, and making phone calls to check availability in this mecca of fiestas. Luckily, Villa Woodbine in Coconut Grove is a sure thing. Whether you're organizing a wedding, bar mitzvah, birthday party, or especially classy liquor-soaked soiree, Villa Woodbine provides a setting straight out of a high-budget rom-com — with a dash of Miami history worth the price (which varies depending upon how many guests you'll expect, though there's always a $3,000 deposit). Built in the 1930s as a winter retreat for a Wisconsin paper baron, the Mediterranean Renaissance building was designed by renowned architect Walter De Garmo, who peppered it with touches from Cuba such as handcrafted tiles shipped from the island. These days, the setting is bolstered by amazing catering and a pleasant staff. Woodbine isn't some warehouse for a rave; it's a place you'll make the kind of memories you want to hang onto for a lifetime.

Art Basel and Miami Art Week, at heart, are a rich person's playground, full of white tents housing bajillion-dollar works of art that you need a PhD to really appreciate. But then Superfine! hit the scene. The organizers of the 2-year-old fair devised a business model that reduces costs for exhibitors, allowing a broader and more diverse group of artists to participate. Visitors strolling through Superfine! in midtown Miami last year got to see local artists Jen Clay and Christin Paige Minnotte, among many others, selling pieces at prices far more affordable than those at nearby Art Miami and Scope. And Superfine! pulled it all off without dropping any of the flashy extras of your traditional white tent. An immersive, helium-based sculpture installation by Asser Saint-Val greeted visitors, while Miami collective Nice n' Easy created a psychedelic picnic party and seating lounge for guests. With all the perks of Art Basel but without the excruciating costs, Superfine! is a safe space for your wallet during Miami Art Week.

Thursday is so close yet still so far away from the weekend. So a Thursday-evening drink requires the Goldilocks standard of imbibing: enough booze to properly pregame for the weekend, but not so much that you're hung over for what is already the longest workday of the week. PAMM Third Thursdays, hosted by Poplife, are the perfect early transition to that weekend mood. The parties offer a chance to schmooze with other art lovers in a relaxed environment, all while overlooking some of the best views of the Magic City at dusk. Happy-hour drink specials are available from 5 to 7 p.m., and Poplife books world-class DJs such as Arthur Baker to spin on the shores of Biscayne Bay. Each monthly event also spotlights some of Miami's best musical talent, including acts like the Tremends, Native Youth, Psychic Mirrors, and Modernage. Admission is free for PAMM members and $16 for nonmembers.

Thanks to projects like Borsht Film Festival and its most famous offspring, Moonlight, a new, young indie film scene has evolved into a driving cultural force in the Magic City. But Miami Beach Cinematheque, the city's original alternative movie theater, precedes them all. The Miami Beach Film Society screened its first film, Sunset Boulevard, in 1993, a full decade before anyone would've described Miami as having a true film culture. Its members launched the permanent cinematheque ten years later, luring Miami film lovers to a cozy screening room on Española Way. And since MBC moved to a larger and more historic building in the heart of SoBe on Washington Avenue in 2011, the venue has remained as relevant as ever. Foreign films and domestic indies alike make their Miami premieres here every month. And director Dana Keith expands the filmgoing experience far beyond the screen by scheduling lectures and panel discussions with local film experts, bringing filmmakers and stars to make appearances at the theater, and hosting screenings and events for just about every film festival in town. There have never been more options for moviegoers in Miami, but with its combination of thoughtful programming, exciting events, and community support, Miami Beach Cinematheque remains at the top of indie fans' lists.

Readers' choice: O Cinema

When it comes to making Miami a Hollywood star, it's hard to match the staying power of an '80s TV show about an undercover narcotics detective who drove a Ferrari and lived on a sailboat with a pet alligator. Miami Vice framed the Magic City in vibrant pastel colors and B-roll footage of the city's skyline, Ocean Drive, and Biscayne Bay against the gritty fictionalized account of the heady Cocaine Cowboys era. But give HBO hit Ballers credit for taking that formula and running straight down the sideline with it. The dark comedy starring Dwayne "the Rock" Johnson about the crazy world of professional football channels Miami Vice in just about every episode. But instead of drug dealers and narcs, the main characters are football players and sports agents. Ballers is chock full of Miami clichés and stereotypes, but — just like Vice — pulls it off in a campy, gloriously over-the-top production that makes locals appreciate the glitzy façade that often lulls unsuspecting out-of-towners into a sense of security. For instance, Ballers has a lot of cocaine, exotic cars, beautiful people, and public sex romps. But the show also dives headfirst into the city's very real appetite for hucksters and bamboozlers looking to come up by any means necessary, including resorting to blackmail and double-cross deals. Unfortunately, Florida legislators have called an interference play that has led to Ballers' departure from our sunny place for shady people. After the state refused to renew film incentives, the show's brass decided to pack up for La-La Land. Though Ballers will still claim Miami, its future seasons won't ever quite capture the Magic City's Zeitgeist the same way.

The stone building on the corner of NE 39th Street and North Miami Avenue looks just as swanky as any other showroom in the high-end haven of the Design District. But there's one major difference: Inside, instead of handbags and shoes more expensive than your monthly rent, there's art. Really good art, actually. This is the new home of Primary Projects, the space started by the Primary Flight crew shortly after it made waves by bringing a massive installation of murals to Wynwood. (Look how that worked out.) Primary Projects ran a small space on the other side of the Design District for several years and then spent a brief time in downtown Miami before returning to its original neighborhood in a newly luxurious form. Few local artists have the chance to exhibit their work in a gallery with tall, retail-style windows and a prime position among the 1 percenters, but that's exactly what Primary offers. Since it opened at its new address in September 2016, it has shown works by Miami stars such as Autumn Casey, Kelly Breez, and Beatriz Monteavaro. And though the building melds effortlessly into the Design District landscape, Primary's artists and curators aren't trying to blend in. Just imagine high-strung shoppers with Louis Vuitton bags accidentally wandering into a recent exhibit of fake newspaper pages with political headlines reading "Fuck It Will Set You Free." It's a lovely idea.

Readers' choice: Bakehouse Art Complex

You can't please all the people all the time, especially not when those people are extremely opinionated movie buffs. But Cinépolis comes close. It shows all the big Hollywood films, from superhero movies to goofy bro comedies, all screened with Sony 4K digital projection to perfectly capture each explosion and off-putting fart joke. But Cinépolis also regularly programs indie fare, giving fans of lower-budget features a swanky spot to catch the latest releases. Its theaters have both traditional (but still relatively new and comfy) seating and also four Premier screens with plush leather seats and food trays, so you can decide to take in a flick the old-fashioned (AKA cheaper) way or impress your date by splurging on comfort. The only real downside to Cinépolis is its popularity — you'll probably want to buy your tickets in advance on weekends. But, hey, it's popular for a reason.

Readers' choice: Cinépolis Coconut Grove

At this point, there's really no debate: Moonlight was the single best film of 2016. In fact, by most critical takes, the Best Picture Oscar winner is an all-time great destined for decades of adulation among cinephiles. So let's take a step back for a moment and realize how extraordinary it is that two young Miami natives created such an exceptional work of art centered on a tale of a young black man dealing with poverty, a drug-addicted mother, and his emerging sexuality in the projects of Liberty City. The heartbreaking and honest performances of Naomie Harris, Mahershala Ali, Alex Hibbert, Ashton Sanders, and Trevante Rhodes were representations that millions of Americans needed to see and feel. But for Miami natives, Moonlight's meaning was amplified tenfold. After movies have portrayed Miami through endless shots of Biscayne Bay, Ocean Drive, and Star Island over the decades, the contrast of the lush landscape and dilapidated street where we first meet Juan is like a painful breath of fresh air. Thought we might convince ourselves otherwise, most of us aren't variations of DJ Khaled or Pitbull. To have native sons Berry Jenkins and Tarell Alvin McCraney create such searingly honest portraits of real Miamians is a gift we can't take for granted and one we won't soon forget.

You need not love basketball to marvel at this magisterial hoops drama from M Ensemble. Directed with precision and perfection by its writer, Layon Gray, the play dramatizes the tumultuous 1939 season of the New York Renaissance, a hardscrabble all-black basketball organization from Harlem, whose players overcame obstacles to win 2,588 games across segregated America. Did everything happen exactly as Gray presents it? That's doubtful, but veracity is immaterial: His production was a mesmerizing argument for poetic license — emphasis on the poetic. The players' practice drills became the tactile pulse of Kings of Harlem, the choreographed sprints, passes, and dribbles attaining a Zen-like quality that would make Phil Jackson smile like Buddha. It was basketball as ballet, buttressed by elegiac music selections, cinematic projections, heavenly lighting, and a fully immersive scenic design that transformed a theatrical venue into a hardwood basketball court with spectator seating on either side. Inspirational sports stories come and go, but M Ensemble's production lingers long after the final buzzer.

There's something about the traditional Broadway musical that feels, well, staged. Even the deftest directors can't conceal the inherent, disruptive artifice of characters bursting into song. That's what made Actors' Playhouse's production of this rock 'n' roll road show so unique. Million Dollar Quartet, which imagines the rollicking music, humor, and infighting of a studio confab among Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins, and Jerry Lee Lewis, is in its own way as whimsical as people-gobbling plants and demonic barbers. But artistic director David Arisco's naturalistic direction and his cast's remarkable verisimilitude overrode the perception that we were watching a fantasy. We were eavesdroppers of an apocryphal hangout, witnessing four legends shoot the shit when they didn't want to shoot one another. And it was a loud hangout: The songs, arriving organically and ending with little fanfare, had an amped-up, raw imperfection that seemed to filter from the convincingly accurate onstage recording booth. The production was another reminder of the boundless creativity Actors' Playhouse can achieve in its flexible upstairs venue.

GableStage audiences may have discovered Wesley Slade as a manic director in 2016's It's Only a Play, a neofarce performed in broad strokes. There was little in that performance that suggested the depth of feeling and shattering emotional resonance of Slade's return to GableStage 11 months later in Hand to God. The dark comedy about belief and grief represented GableStage at its vintage peak — uproarious humor, anarchic action, the irreverent tipping of sacred cows — and Slade's dual performances were the nucleus around which all other elements rotated. As Jason, a retiring teenager with a history of repressed anguish, Slade emanated vulnerability and selective aphasia. As Tyrone, a hand puppet whose power increased the more its owner requested its services, Slade was hyperconfident, uncouth, compelled by the darkest forces of human nature. It was a performance that teetered on the border between calculation and abandon, control and possession, all expressed in Slade's dexterous puppeteering skills, as well as his conflicted facial expressions and vocal inflections. The result was a funny-scary internal wrestling match — a stirring star turn in multiple dimensions.

For an actor, there's little else more terrifying than your first solo show: the attention, the pressure, the insane number of words. Moreover, there's no other actor onstage to save you. There's no escape hatch or parachute if you mess up, which seems like an appropriate metaphor when discussing Thinking Cap Theatre's Grounded, George Brant's timely exploration of a fighter pilot's existential crisis. If Niki Fridh was sweating bullets before the show, you certainly couldn't tell from her performance. In her finest hour yet, she embodied all aspects of her character's increasingly complicated personality, from the initially cocksure, self-determined ace to the panic-stricken, criminally overworked drone operator who discovers the moral gravity of remote warfare. Along the way, she navigated challenges both universal — juggling a meaningful career with domestic tranquility — and specific, such as the psychic, all-encompassing traumas of war that don't end when reassigned to the so-called Chair Force. From witty and sexy to numb and broken, Fridh left no emotional stone unturned, and probably uncovered more than existed on the page, while manning the controls for an unforgettable ride.

Some directors assert their idiosyncratic visions atop any material they touch; others acquiesce gallantly to the specific needs of each source. As artistic director of Zoetic Stage, Stuart Meltzer exemplified the latter approach during his company's eclectic 2016-17 season. From plays to musicals, solo shows to bustling ensembles, world premieres to established classics, this gracious chameleon helmed projects that were as divergent as they were unassailably difficult. He created a benchmark style for Michael McKeever's gripping premiere After by staging the play's domestic tête-á-têtes like verbal boxing matches of advances and retreats, parries and thrusts. He lovingly revived Stephen Sondheim's challenging Sunday in the Park With George like a master painter himself, creating a sustained celebration of color, art, and life. With !Fuacata!, he developed an exactingly produced one-woman show from scratch and guided Elena Maria Garcia to a performance that felt like a career summation. He finished the season with Harold Pinter's The Caretaker, finding both the humor and devastation in this patience-demanding experiment while using the many hidden treasures in the staggering set design. In each case, Meltzer exceeded the show's herculean standards with the illusion of ease.

It takes a certain kind of madness to even attempt to stage a play like A Public Reading of an Unproduced Screenplay About the Death of Walt Disney and a certain kind of genius to pull it off. Lucas Hnath's offbeat character study of the impresario seems designed in part to exasperate: It's written like an ADHD screenplay, with the actor playing Uncle Walt — in this case, an extraordinary Peter Galman — restlessly shuffling through moods and scenes with the clipped command, "Cut to... cut to... cut to." Thinking Cap's spellbinding production last fall wasn't for everybody, but then again, few of its masterpieces are. Artistic director Nicole Stodard followed Walt Disney with another polarizing work, Mud, a modernist classic of urban decay in which three tortured characters envelop themselves in a cocoon of codependence. Ever one to find beauty in darkness, Stodard employed impeccable lighting and sound choices that created a multisensory experience drenched in dread. This year's TCT productions continued to express the company's mastery of both the technical and narrative aspects of theater while tackling relevant themes: Grounded analyzed the emotional shrapnel of drone strikes, and Collective Rage: A Play in Five Betties addressed feminism in the Trump era.

Readers' choice: Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts

Pam Bruno, the best comedian in 2015 at Ultimate Miami (a competition to find the finest bartenders, drag queens, vocalists, and other performers), is the sort of fresh face Hollywood dreams about discovering — and she's in her mid-60s. A Miami transplant and Iowa native, Bruno is a former cranial sacral therapist, meaning her job involved relieving pain and tension through gentle manipulations of the head and spine. These days, she's more interested in relieving pain and tension in people by appealing to us through the blackest of humor. Her jokes are often dark and slightly disturbed, but her aw-shucks charm and dry wit allow her to nail routines that would flounder with lesser comics. She's like the fifth Golden Girl, a combination of Bea Arthur's character Dorothy and Estelle Getty's Sophia but entirely more relaxed. Her delivery is as gentle as the work she used to do but hits hard with morbid jokes about death, drug use, sex at all ages, and loneliness. Plenty of comics can do bleak, but she brings a perspective all her own, cultivated through years of experience. Her self-promoting motto is "Like wine, comedy gets better with age," and damn if it isn't true with Bruno.

Whether she's inside the Palace in South Beach, on Ocean Drive's sidewalk, or even in the middle of the street, the whole world is a runway for Missy Meyakie LePaige. This fierce drag queen has embraced the Palace's slogan, "Every queen needs a palace," to the fullest. The 2015 Miss National Showgirl is one part class act and one part badass. LePaige is equally comfortable in elegant feathered evening wear and fur coats as she is strutting every inch of her attitude in a glittering church dress. She's forever dancing and gyrating, hands in the air for Jesus, her feet moving like they're touching the fires of Hell. LePaige is an athletic, agile performer who absolutely demands our attention. Her moniker was inspired by rapper Missy Elliott, fashion designer Issey Miyake, and her drag mother, Victoria Le Paige. Much like the songs by her hip-hop namesake, "Get Ur Freak On" and "Work It," Missy Meyakie LePaige brings an unavoidable energy through movement, singing, dancing, and laughing that prompts engagement from her audiences and some dollar bills for a lady hard at work.

Readers' choice: Queef Latina

New York nightlife maven Susanne Bartsch introduced the city that never sleeps to her brand of wild parties and unconventional fashion in the late '80s. Now her newest bimonthly at Brickell's Old Havana-style club, El Tucán, is as must-see as anything she's ever staged in the Big Apple. Held the last Tuesday every other month, Bareback Follies regularly stars gay and drag icons such as Amanda Lepore, Joey Arias, and Dirty Martini, plus all-stars from RuPaul's Drag Race. During this risqué evening — which costs $25 and includes a drink — pasties and nipple tassels are considered modest. An early show at 8 p.m. accommodates guests who find a late-night Tuesday party a little tough. But the 10 p.m. show is when the drag queens and models really get rowdy, pulling out all the stops, from striptease to elaborate one-woman light shows designed to upstage the next girl.

Repeat this five times: "I am not too cool for the science museum." Then head downtown. The new Frost Museum of Science — not to be confused with the Frost Art Museum out west at Florida International University — is amazing. Frost Science offers a 30-foot-long dinosaur, yellow-submarine elevators, a light floor, and a 500,000-gallon saltwater tank with a 31-foot-wide oculus that allows you to peer inside at various sea creatures, including sharks and rays. And the 250-seat, state-of-the-art planetarium continues Miami-Dade's favorite event: the First Fridays laser light show that was a tradition at the museum's former location near Vizcaya. Viva the new museum, but let us never forget the old one!

Readers' choice: Pérez Art Museum Miami

Only a few short years ago, Wynwood's Second Saturday Art Walk was at the heart of a revolution. Up to 40 galleries would open their doors once a month, allowing the public to peruse every expanse of the creative mind. Wynwood, of course, has since leveraged that cachet to become a hipster commercial mecca, and many of the artists have fled for cheaper real estate. So the art faithful have turned their attention north to a burgeoning hot spot for both imagination and inebriation: downtown Hollywood. The area has been revitalized, both aesthetically and with new infrastructure. From 5 to 10 p.m. the third Saturday each month, sidewalks and storefronts welcome casual and hard-core art lovers. Attendees enjoy collections from local, regional, and international artists while classical and jazz bands perform live. Plus, many galleries are walking distance from dozens of bars, restaurants, cigar shops, and coffee bars. Street parking is mostly free and plentiful, and murals decorate the walls of many of the buildings. Downtown Hollywood ArtWalk, for now, is nowhere near the size and scale of its Miami counterpart, but that's a good thing. One day, this gathering's popularity might catch up to Wynwood's, so enjoy it while it lasts.

Even if you don't enjoy eating colorful candy marzipan, it's hard to argue with viewing monumental art that looks like it. Built in 2016 by the Swiss artist Ugo Rondinone, the 42-foot-tall Miami Mountain consists of five bright boulders that sit atop one another just feet from A1A in Collins Park. The sculpture is like a huge, delicious treat for all of South Beach. Rondinone recently installed seven of these sculptures in the desert outside Las Vegas, but those are planned to be there for only two years, while Miami's stack of stones is part of the Bass museum's permanent collection and will sit in place for the long haul. Also, technically, the piece is called a "cairn," a dandy way of referring to a pile of rocks. Turning a corner and seeing Miami Mountain is still a startling experience. The work, which is held together by an iron spine, immediately causes the viewer to question whether the rocks are real and then walk up and engage. The question of artificiality is one dear to Miami Beach, but like the city, the closer you get to the statue, the more awe-inspiring it becomes. It is joyous to look all the way to the top of the Beach's mountain, which, of course, is rainbow-hued and right by the sand.

Branch off from the commotion of Young Circle Park in downtown Hollywood onto Tyler Street, and you'll probably stop in your tracks beside a mural of a bird's-eye view of a swimming pool, pink floaties and all. You can't help but note in awe how the artists nailed the sunlight refracting on the water. Five years ago, this wall was bland and boring (as was the rest of these lackluster walls in this neighborhood). But since it became home to a monthly art walk in which folks stroll along the quaint, tree-lined streets from gallery to gallery, this pocket of Hollywood received a face-lift. Launched in August 2012, the Downtown Hollywood Mural Project has brought more than two dozen murals to the now-vibrant hood, which has fared well as an Instagram-worthy backdrop for selfies. Next time you saunter down Tyler Street, be on the lookout for this splashy mural and resist the urge to dive in.

Take a stroll through Wynwood Walls, and you can't miss her: Lying in a dreamlike pose, surrounded by grapevines, a nude woman gazes into the distance. But it's not her nudity that's so arresting, nor her vibrant red hair or pointed, clawlike fingertips. It's not even the tiny alligator, with a cheerful, menacing smile, that sits on her elbow. It's her eyes, which artist Tatiana Suarez has rendered in hyperrealism with one fantastical quality: They're entirely white aside from soft red pupils. Striking eyes have long been a hallmark of Suarez's work; her earlier murals and paintings show women with oversized globes for eyeballs, making her subjects look more like thoughtfully created Bratz dolls. But these aren't just pretty portraits. Suarez's paintings have a surreal, dreamlike quality, one that invites viewers to imagine the story behind her captivating female subjects. Unlike so many of the women on display in Miami, these ladies aren't merely ornamental. Suarez gives them a realistic, human quality, even as she places them in dream­scapes and exaggerates their features. In a city full of objectifying billboards, advertisements, and even other murals, Suarez's work is a small, essential rebellion.

First, all you see is darkness. Then, in slow motion, a figure floats into view. It's a woman, naked, her face scrunched as if bracing for impact. Seconds later, you discover why: Her body hits and smashes a pane of glass. Shards fly through the air, gliding across the screen as the woman slowly falls back into the darkness. Until she shattered the glass, you hadn't even known it was there. This is Suddenly We Jumped, Antonia Wright's 2014 short film that screened at the Borscht Film Festival this year. It's just one example of a courageous and often dangerous body of work by an artist known for taking risks — not just in the message of her art, but with her physical well-being. For a Locust Projects exhibit last fall, she submerged her body in an icy lake, reliving a childhood accident. Wright has performed tai chi while covered in bees and rolled naked down a filthy Miami alley. Her series Are You OK? features her crying openly on busy city streets from Paris to New York to Havana. She sacrifices her own comfort, and sometimes her own safety, to make bold statements, created with insidery art theories in mind but resonant with anyone with eyes and a beating heart. Is it hard to watch? Sure. Mesmerizing? Absolutely. But the word that best describes Wright's work is fearless.

Hyam Plutzik, a Pulitzer finalist, poet, and University of Rochester English professor, passed away in 1962, but his love of poetry is still bringing working writers to Ocean Drive for a room of their own. That's because his son Jonathan Plutzik owns the Betsy Hotel South Beach and offers plenty of space at this establishment for the arts. The elegant, Georgian-style hotel does a little of everything cultural to enrich the community. Plutzik's generosity presents curated soundscapes, live jazz, fine arts on exhibition, and a variety of salons with experts. The hotel also works closely with the poetry festival O, Miami to stage readings and other events. And the hotel's Writer's Room gives visiting wordsmiths studio space and a desk donated by the Hyam Plutzik Centennial Committee. Jonathan Plutzik's philanthropy has enriched the careers of 400 writers since 2012.

Two old friends with a passion for the kitschiness of the Sunshine State have found a way to showcase South Florida's landscape through sound art. Archival Feedback uses a peculiar variation on call-and-response to present the duo's vision: Their field recordings are the "call," while the visual artwork that goes with it is the "response." Conceived and executed by the prolific artist T. Wheeler Castillo of Turn Based Press and drummer Emile Milgrim of Sweat Records, Archival Feedback, their first project, released vinyl editions of audio recordings they collected over two years on Castillo's label, Other Electricities. Those recordings have been widely lauded and partially funded by a Knight grant. The two completed an Artist in Residence in the Everglades (AIRIE); collaborated on an O, Miami project; and are showing their sound art at the Deering Estate at Cutler.

For those of you in the dark about the rap crew Insane Clown Posse's intense and devoted followers, called juggalos, understand there is a lot you might never understand about this distinctly American and totally weird culture. These folks drink the Detroit soda pop called Faygo, yell "whoop" as an identifying greeting, and get together annually in the middle of nowhere for "the Gathering," a huge, mysterious concert and camp-out. South Florida is fortunate enough to have its own little podcast, Whoop Whoop Juggalo Hour, that offers a peek into this strange and audacious world. DJs Fartghost and Nutsack are actually drummer Anthony Hernandez and comedian Derek Heid, who are not actual juggalos but who feature "anything and everything related to the dark carnival" on their podcasts. Though the whole show is pretty tongue-in-cheek, the two do paint their faces and get dressed up like juggalos to present, in their words, "mad, wicked clown love" the second Wednesday every month on Jolt Radio.

What separates burlesque performances from straight-up stripping? One word: class. And Moon River Cabaret has class in all the right places. At the troupe's monthly residency at Vagabond Kitchen & Bar, performers and cofounders Rio Chavarro and his wife Sofia Luna get sexy with style, even incorporating a Mad Men theme for a touch of Don Draper suaveness. Moon River shows go beyond the feather fans and tassel twirling you imagine when you think of burlesque; this is a cabaret, after all, so performances also include comedy and singing. But Moon River can get naughty too. Consider its "Den of Vice" show, part of this year's Art Undressed festival, billed as "a dark and dangerously arousing collection of sensual burlesque performances" and featuring Franki Markstone, the "bodacious bisexual"; Miss Marina Elaine, "the sweetheart with a switchblade"; and other titillating talents. Chavarro and Luna are cozy with much of South Florida's burlesque community, so devotees of the troupe get to witness the skills of a wide range of local performers. You'll cheer; you'll gape; you'll get turned on. Just don't call them strippers.

With each passing year, Brickell's buildings grow taller. And as more skyscrapers fill the horizon, there are fewer and fewer places to step back and see the city without a crane full of hairy construction workers obstructing your view. Luckily, Sugar, a new bar perched on the 40th-floor rooftop of the sparkling East hotel, offers a first-class view of downtown Miami. With a lush and earthy decor, Sugar truly feels like a big-city bar, one that, until recently, people might have associated with Manhattan more than Miami. But Brickell's explosive growth has earned this addition. Sugar's menu offers a selection of Asian-inspired meals, such as boneless Korean chicken wings ($16) and crispy tandoori squid ($14). And of course there are cocktails. The vodka-based lychee blossom ($12) is a staple, and the bar has no shortage of beer, wine, and champagne. But when it comes to Sugar, the appeal is clear: You come for the view, and you stay for the view.

Readers' choice: Ricky's South Beach

If your overcrowded community pool isn't far enough from the stresses of home, head to South Beach. Aqua Club Bar & Lounge inside the National Hotel offers the feel-good, tropical vibes you would expect on a Caribbean vacation. After walking through the hotel lobby, you come across a beautiful infinity pool and a path to a second pool. You also see an outdoor bar and lounge that isn't consumed by tourists. Take your level of laziness up a notch by claiming a hammock that hangs between palm trees just steps from the bar. Try signature cocktails ($15 to $16) such as the Blue Haze, made with vodka and blueberries, and El National, which contains white rum, apricot brandy, pineapple, and lime juice. If you're not feeling adventuresome, order the original Miami Vice or one of many flavors of mojito ($16). There are also delectable appetizers such as chicken wings and nachos, along with fresh salads. And there's a limited selection of seafood-based entrées, including a blackened grouper sandwich, a shrimp quesadilla, and a pricey crab burger. If it's not Miami Music Week, you probably won't find a live DJ here. However, a clever mix of electronic and island music is piped through the numerous speakers, which can make Aqua Club either a relaxing island getaway or just another reason to spend the day getting drunk by the pool. Either way is fine.

Before Wynwood was a gentrified mess, clubgoers flocked to the neon "Bar" sign along North Miami Avenue to listen to the best in underground and alternative dance music. That's because since 2009, Will Renuart, Tomas Ceddia, and Diego Martinelli have made it their mission to give Miami a place to dance at the Electric Pickle — bottle service be damned. While South Beach shifted toward EDM, the Pickle was booking up-and-comers and less familiar acts like Seth Troxler, Claude VonStroke, and Damian Lazarus. (Yes, they are well known now, but back then, they were relatively unfamiliar to American audiences.) Eight years later, the Wynwood mainstay continues to lead the way in showcasing new approaches to dance music that range from house and techno to experimental. And though it definitely has more competition these days on both sides of the causeway (Trade, Do Not Sit on the Furniture, and Treehouse on the Beach and Club Space and Heart in downtown), the Pickle pioneered the underground dance scene Miami enjoys today.

Readers' choice: LIV

Against Me, Bleachers, Frank Turner, Matt & Kim, St. Lucia, STRFKR. Over the past few years, Culture Room's penchant for hosting quality bands and indie street cred has surged. It continues to thrive with a no-frills setup and execution. Bands play, people rock out, and everyone drives home happy. Sure, Culture Room is small enough that music critics call it "intimate," which is code for "when things get busy, it's difficult to move/dance/breathe." But that's part of the appeal. You can get close to the bands. Lead singers can crowd-surf, and you can take selfies with the guitarists. While other rock clubs increase drink and ticket prices, Culture Room remains entrenched in the affordability of the 2000s. The sound is always great, drink lines are never long, and more often than not, visiting bands hang out in the outdoor smoking section near their merch table or even around the tour bus that has little choice but to park directly in front of the venue. Except for upgrades in the sound and lighting systems, Culture Room has hardly changed over the past two decades. It doesn't need to. It's a proper rock club with killer shows and zero snobbishness. That's everything a pure rock experience should include.

Readers' choice: Churchill's Pub

The title of best bar doesn't mean it's the top place to get blackout-call-me-an-Uber wasted. It doesn't translate to the most efficient place for singles to hook up. It certainly doesn't imply you should go out for dinner there or that it has a first-class atmosphere. But the Tuck Room boasts all of these traits, plus it's attached to a movie theater. It's like vaping to other bars' cigarettes. It's the perfect alternative to all of those predictable sports bars and college hangouts you're used to frequenting. The food here thrills for a bar; you just don't find ahi tuna poke bowls ($17) at every watering hole. Both the indoor and outdoor patio bars are comfortable for business meetings and nights out with the boys. It's not even out of the question that a family could grab a bite to eat before heading to the next-door iPic theater. Open from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Sunday through Thursday and 11 a.m. to midnight Friday and Saturday, the Tuck Room is our favorite bar on the north end of the county because it's so very un-bar-like.

Readers' choice: The Anderson

When Employees Only opened in New York City in 2004, it was an instant hit. A dozen years later, thirsty patrons queue up outside for a spot at the intimate bar where jacketed bartenders create near-perfect cocktails. Named one of the world's best bars at the annual Tales of the Cocktail in New Orleans, Employees Only still keeps its cool without pretense. Now comes Employees Only Miami, opened by one of the bar's original partners, Billy Gilroy. Walk inside a 1929 coral house on the grounds of the Washington Park Hotel and pass a fortuneteller to enter this dark lair of libation. Grab a seat at the bar, adorned with industrial art deco touches, and order a drink. Cocktails are divided into four categories: "Apéritifs," "EO Classics," "Fancy Cocktails," and "Cocktails" (most cost $16). Can't decide? Your bartender can choose for you. But if you want to be a Miami Beach baller, opt for the Billionaire, made with Bakers' bourbon, lemon juice, EO grenadine, and absinthe bitters. Be sure to order the bar's signature steak tartare, prepared to taste and served with toast and greens ($18). It's all part of a sophisticated evening — a touch of Manhattan in SoBe. The bar is open seven days a week from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m.

Readers' choice: The Broken Shaker

Entrepreneur Cesar Morales some years ago turned Wood Tavern into one of Wynwood's most popular bars. With Las Rosas, which he opened this year, he's struck gold a second time. The Wood Tavern crew brands Las Rosas "a rebellious dive bar in Allapattah." Indeed, while Wood attracts the Everyman Wynwood happy-hour crowd, Las Rosas aims for an underground, rock 'n' roll-dive-bar vibe. The bar's Instagram page (@lasrosasmiami) and walls are packed with black-and-white pictures of rock-star misfits such as Kurt Cobain, who would've likely preferred some downtime at a low-key spot like this. For the unwinding introvert, Las Rosas offers pool and vintage arcade games to play while loosening up with a jalapeño margarita. And like any proper rock 'n' roll bar, Las Rosas also hosts bands. Acts such as Pavlov's Bell, Analog, and Xotic Yeyo have played here already, and Miami's heaviest band, Deaf Poets, chose this place for the release of its latest record, Lost in Magic City.

Readers' choice: Wood Tavern

When you want a club, you think of celebrity appearances and partying till dawn; when you want a cocktail bar, you think of house-made syrups and specialty liquors; but when you want a regular old bar, you think of no-frills drinks and no judgment, and you like it that way. Sunset Tavern is the kind of place you go to watch a guy with a neck tattoo and a cowboy hat dominate the pool table, the sort of place you can sit outside on a weeknight safe under a dozen umbrellas in a torrential downpour, a place where industry folks drink next to college stoners whether there's karaoke or live music on the roster. Sunset Tavern serves food from the Deli Lane kitchen and has the same staying power as its sister café, if only because it doesn't care to be South Miami's latest hot spot — a rarity in a neighborhood packed with every new restaurant concept. Grab brunch here; grab lunch here; grab some late-night fuel whether you're pregaming, sticking around, or heading home. Well drinks cost $5.75 during happy hour six days a week, and the chicken salad quesadillas ($11) go well with any of the 20 beers on tap. Come here for the neighborhood bar you didn't know you needed. It's open Sunday through Thursday from 10 a.m. to 3 a.m. and Friday and Saturday from 10 a.m. to 5 a.m.

Readers' choice: Bougainvillea's Old Florida Tavern

There isn't much you need in a bar that Flanigan's doesn't offer. You probably have a stack of those iconic green plastic cups in your cupboard at home to prove your dedication over the years. The Hialeah location is a comfortable spot that offers arguably the best wings ($16.99 and up) and ribs ($13.99 to $16.99) anywhere in South Florida. You can totally take your family on a night you're not downing stiff drinks while watching the Dolphins game. You won't find South Beach frills, just a good old-fashioned bar that has your favorite alcohol, the best food, and a friendly neighborhood staff that doesn't charge you $15 for a beer. It's open daily from 11 a.m. to 2 a.m.

Readers' choice: Barú Latin Bar

Getting to the Riverside requires a trip across one of Florida's few remaining swing bridges and through the quiet residential neighborhoods of Sailboat Bend and Riverside. Far from the tourist-packed dives of A1A and the bumping bars of Himmarshee Village, this craft beer mecca is the quintessential locals hangout. You walk in, grab a beer from the hundreds stocked in the self-serve coolers along the wall, and settle in at one of the long tables, where you're sure to strike up a conversation with your neighbors. Pair your Bell's Two-Hearted or Cigar City Jai Alai with pizza, wings, or jalapeño poppers fresh from the kitchen; then pay on the honor system on your way out. Now that you know where Riverside Market is, you're sure to be back.

Readers' choice: American Social

Wilton Manors, just north of Fort Lauderdale, is a premier destination for South Florida's LGBT community. Because Miami and South Beach are often overrun by tourists, this Broward city is a haven for locals (though visitors are heartily welcomed). The area of just less than two square miles is home to a sparkling variety of options for a lunch, a night out, or general all-day shenanigans. Hunters, the Manor, Ramrod, and Scandals Saloon all offer something special, but one place stands out from the rest: Georgie's Alibi Monkey Bar. At 19 years old, Georgie's Alibi is one of the longest-running, most reliable establishments in town. Between the indoor lounge and the outdoor patio, a multitude of happy-hour specials every day, weekend brunch drag shows starring some of the best queens in the state, and DJs and live music acts throughout the week, it's impossible not to be entertained here. And with all that drinking and dancing and partying, people are bound to work up a hunger. For those brief moments of respite, Georgie's Alibi serves a full menu that blows away the notion of the typical bar, including tapas, wings, pizza, salads, and award-winning burgers. The prices are affordable even compared with some of its neighbors only a few doors away. Better yet, many times there's no cover for any of the shows, and with a friendly waitstaff bringing whatever is needed to the table, Georgie's lets guests kick back, have fun, and do a little people-watching.

Readers' choice: Twist

Cucu's Nest defies expectations by absentmindedly remaining a dive bar while surrounded by a growing city. It's like a beautiful yet incomprehensible time capsule. The couches, the walls, the pool table, the jukebox, the dance floor, the four TV sets — it's all so weird but somehow feels so right. As the northern end of South Beach has become hugely popular, the nightclub types have pinned Cucu's Nest as a place to stop off between more polished venues. And why not? There's a long happy hour seven days a week from 2 to 7 p.m., and each day offers different specials, including Coronas for $5 and whiskey and Coke for $7. It's still a glorious dive of a bar where you can drink away your troubles and remain real. It doesn't seem possible that Cucu's Nest will ever change.

Sandbar Grill has no sand, no beach, and no water. The only grilling happening is on a standard kitchen flat-top. It also has no pretension. This is probably one of the last spots in the city that has no desire to call itself a gastropub. There are a bunch of TVs, tables that double as playing surfaces for beer pong, and a Golden Tee Golf arcade game near the second bar in the rear. Though the rebirth of Coconut Grove has been a welcome boon to the neighborhood, this is one spot that doesn't need to be rebranded or remodeled. College kids, sports fanatics, and locals can enjoy happy-hour drinks and maybe even a smoke (egads!) outside on the sidewalk patio. Happy hour lasts from 3 to 7 p.m. Monday through Friday, when most liquor and draft beers are half off. The awesome tacos cost only $3.75 and are half off all day Tuesday. There's also live music from one-man bands that play reggae and other genres. Sandbar Grill is open till 3 a.m. most days but sometimes closes early if it's quiet.

Readers' choice: Duffy's Sports Grill

The Wynwood restaurant Alter is known for serving some of Miami's most innovative meals, so when chef Brad Kilgore decided to open a patio lounge, he knew his drinks had to be as interesting and visually stunning as his food. Enter Gustavo Martinez, the creative force behind Bar Alter. The bartender takes a culinary approach to cocktail preparation, using Alter's kitchen as a starting point to make infusions and potions. Martinez, usually found behind the bar, might suggest a drink that sounds unfamiliar. Maybe it will be a libation made with grappa, amaro, tangerine shrub, black lava salt, and smoke. In this barkeep's hands, the unfamiliar combination is transformed into the gorgeous and savory La Familia. Of course, you could always go with a classic martini or old-fashioned, but why not let Martinez assess your preferences and make a bespoke cocktail for you? For around $14 a drink, this might be Wynwood's best investment in a work of art. Bar Alter is open Tuesday through Saturday from 5 p.m. to 1 a.m. and is closed Monday.

Readers' choice: The Broken Shaker

For some reason, rooftops and cocktails make a winning combination. There's nothing more romantic that a drink with a view. Downtown Miami's Pawn Broker has it all: a gorgeous vista, plenty of seating areas, and classic black-and-white movies projected onto a neighboring building. Add that Pawn Broker has an impeccable pedigree as part of the Pubbelly Restaurant Group and you have a winner. The drinks are both classic and original. The showstopper is the Giggle Water ($16), a Prohibition-era dream of gin, champagne syrup, and lavender bubbles served in a mini bathtub. As you sip, Bogie and Bacall say their final goodbyes on the building across the way as Rick tells Captain Renault: "This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." It most certainly is. The bar is open Monday through Thursday from 5 p.m. to midnight, Friday and Saturday from 5 p.m. to 2 a.m., and Sunday from 4 to 10 p.m.

Readers' choice: Sugar

Spain's party culture is full of dancing and drinking. Gatherings begin late in the evening and continue after dawn and sometimes through the next night. But you don't have to go to Ibiza or Barcelona to enjoy parties that last a whole weekend. Just head to downtown Miami's Heart Nightclub. It's open every week Friday night through Sunday afternoon, but exactly when it shuts down depends entirely upon the energy inside. The three-level venue consistently books some of the best underground house and techno DJs in the world. The Miami crowd showers them in so much love that they've been known to play for six, eight, or 12 hours. The third-floor terrace allows the sun to peek through, offering dancers rejuvenation in the soft glow of morning. It's a total FOMO factory, so just catch on already and stop missing out.

If you're looking for something authentic, Club Tipico Dominicano in Allapattah should become your new go-to spot. This is a solid Dominican restaurant, a vibrant bar, and a festive nightclub. The menu is filled with well-made choices, from mangú (a plantain dish) to mondongo (a tripe soup). After 10 p.m., the restaurant switches gears to prepare for huge parties, which feature a team of DJs and/or a live band that will instantaneously instill patrons with the power to dance nonstop until the crack of dawn. By 2 a.m. on weekends, the venue is filled to capacity with Latin-music lovers from all over the Caribbean and South America. They perfect their three-step bops and inadvertently challenge others to dance-offs of epic proportions. Over the years, Club Tipico has featured a slew of fine artists, such as El Rey del Mambo Omega, as well as special events hosted by 106.7 El Zol's on-air talent, including La Gatita. If there's one thing that's guaranteed about the club, it's the long-standing Sunday-night extravaganzas that feature special guests, bottle and hookah specials, and a squad of DJs that keeps the night going well into the early hours of Monday.

Readers' choice: El Patio Wynwood

K&K Billiard & Sports Bar loves the sweet pastime of pool. With 15 tables including four nine-footers and 11 seven-footers, there's never a long wait for a game. And if it's crowded, the tables are spaced far enough apart that you don't have to worry about someone else's cue ramming an inappropriate spot of your body. Open Monday through Thursday from 4 p.m. to 2 a.m., Friday and Saturday from 4 p.m. to 3 a.m., and Sunday from 4 p.m. to 1 a.m., K&K offers tables for $12 per hour, but the underemployed can take advantage of weekdays, when you can rent a table for only $5 an hour from 4 to 7:30 p.m. Though there's no liquor served, there's an extensive beer menu, and the smoke-free environment makes it a great place to take the young pool hustler trying to learn his or her way around the table.

Readers' choice: Lost Weekend

Strip club culture in Miami hasn't been the same since Puppy Management CEO James Wright and GM Damion McKenzie took over G5ive Miami in 2014. The North Miami Beach venue has long served the community as a popular billiards and comedy club by day and a popping strip club by night. Within the past three years, G5ive has gained plenty of notoriety for its army of more than 100 talented dancers and servers who entice customers from all over South Florida. There are events and specials every night of the week, such as $2 Tuesdays, WCW Wednesdays, and Trendsetter Thursdays. Turn up for your birthday or celebrate dumping your significant other on Fetty Fridays; then experience a topnotch rapper or a model on Celebrity Saturdays. The booth is helmed by pros including DJ Meat, DJ Lucky C, and the 305's DJ Nasty. G5ive has also become a mecca for comedians and out-of-town artists. Philly rapper PnB Rock, Atlanta trio Migos, Harlem native Jim Jones, Rick Ross, Future, Red Café, Tory Lanez, Cardi B, David Guetta, and plenty of other well-known names have turned up, including R&B artist Mya, who one night sang and performed a few dance moves of her own. And don't forget about the strippers, including Essence Monroe, Chyna, and Miami Tip.

Readers' choice: E11even Miami

There's a laundry list of Florida rappers who've had their 15 minutes of fame in the past year. But only one Miami MC has shown a positive, uplifting spirit and guaranteed longevity. Zoey Dollaz makes headlines with every record he drops and maintains a passion for serving the community. This past year was pivotal in the Haitian rapper's career. The North Miami native's life took a successful turn after he signed to Future's Freebandz label via Epic Records while live on the air at 99 Jamz. In the past year alone, Zoey Dollaz has made a lasting impression on listeners, releasing the debut album Port-Au-Prince and his most recent mixtape, October. He has made his city proud by representing the 305 at every major concert he crashed in 2016. He was there for Beyoncé's Miami stop on the Formation World Tour and the infamous Summer Sixteen Tour alongside Drake and Future. He has set microphones on fire with slick freestyles at every major radio station, from Hot 97 in New York City to Power 106 in Los Angeles. When he's not clinking glasses of champagne with Jay Z and DJ Khaled or jumping on couches in the VIP section of high-end clubs, Zoey is assisting the community in Miami and doing what he can to help his people in Haiti. During Art Basel, the "Bad Tings" rapper took part in Finessing IV the People, which helped raised funds for the Haitian victims of Hurricane Matthew and for Sow a Seed, a nonprofit that works with orphanages in the Caribbean. While other local artists mumble redundant lyrics over tired beats and sort out multiple legal woes, Zoey stays true to his respectable and clean image while dropping hit after hit about the struggles he endured growing up on the streets of Haiti and Miami.

Rising R&B artist Brika would fit in neatly with acts such as Thievery Corporation and Zero 7. She has been profiled and revered by tastemakers such as Billboard and BBC Radio 1. Brika says Billie Holiday is her greatest inspiration, but her voice is more like that of Amy Winehouse or Banks. Her singing has a smoky, jazzy quality made for dark lounges and the space between lovers occupied only by candlelight and anticipation. Only a few short years ago, she was intimidated by singing in front of her high-school peers, but Brika now commands a room like a seasoned pro. For example, during her recent residency at Seaspice, the slender but powerful vocalist displayed a stage presence well beyond her years. Charming, funny, and witty throughout each of her performances, Brika worked the room like a standup comic, a Las Vegas magician, and a headlining soul siren rolled into one. Although the music is entrancing on its own, Brika has a personality as big and engaging as her voice. At only 22 years old, she has only just begun her career, but thanks to her well-received debut album, Voice Memos, and national recognition for her singles "Expectations,""Mumbai," and "I Don't Want Your Love," the future looks bright for this late-night songbird.

Great DJs in this city, believe it or not, are rare. Sure, a lot of partiers are content to dance and sing along to the Chainsmokers' "Closer" for the millionth time, but a great DJ can give you a collegiate-level lecture on commanding a room, all without the obnoxious Top 40 hits to keep crowds entertained. If you're looking for a jukebox, Miami has plenty of those, but if you want to be rewarded, check out Ms. Mada. As part of Link Miami Rebels, Mada (real name Rachel Tumada) enjoys residencies Fridays at Trade (1439 Washington Ave., Miami Beach) and Saturdays at Space (34 NE 11th St., Miami), where she has opened up for a who's who of the underground dance music scene, including Lee Foss, Claptone, Green Velvet, Jamie Jones, and Richie Hawtin. Having been at it since 2010, Mada has spun at venues such as Electric Pickle, Treehouse, and Story and made appearances at Ultra Music Festival and III Points. Even with that impressive resumé, Ms. Mada continues to fly under the radar of most Miami clubgoers.

Readers' choice: Oscar G

Locos por Juana has been a leader in Miami's music scene for more than 15 years. A staple and indeed a standard for what the Magic City and its diverse population can produce, Locos por Juana delivers a sound that surfs from one Caribbean island to the next, with trips into South America and the bandmates' native Colombia. Led by the trio of vocalist Itawe Correa, guitarist Mark Kondrat, and drummer Javier "Lakambra" Delgado, Locos por Juana is more a collective than a band. Dozens of musicians have floated in and out of the lineup over the years in a system that has helped to create rich live performances. Combining cumbia, dub, funk, hip-hop, reggae, rock, salsa, and essentially any musical style that gets people grooving and vibing, the veteran outfit is everything to everyone at any given time. In fact, the group's latest album, 2016's Caribe, even welcomes gringos into the fold through several bilingual tracks and even a couple of English-only songs. It's unfair to pin Locos por Juana down as a Latin rock band. They are a reflection of Miami's effervescent vibrancy and limitless energy. They echo the complex, multifaceted nature of the city.

South Florida, with its ocean breezes, palm trees, and sunshine most days, is a fun and relaxing place. It's also a commercial center for the Caribbean. Lake Worth's Spred the Dub is a lot like the area it calls home. The self-proclaimed "good-time reggae" band is far more than just another white-boy reggae act. These whiskey-loving goofballs are not only fun guys but also professionals. No matter how drunk this 10-year-old five-piece gets during one of its many performances, it always puts on a show and leaves crowds with a sense of boozy joy. These lovable scamps have gone from a jam band of rotating musicians to a reliable presence on the South Florida music scene. Their sound, a mixture of punk, ska, funk, soul, roots reggae, and beach vibes, combines nicely with Rat Pack aesthetics and a sense of humor that's self-deprecating enough to allow a band name whose acronym spells "STD." Alas, despite its staying power, one day Spred the Dub will be gone, and the world will be worse for it. Florida will have lost some of its magic. And we will realize, much like the tropical paradise we take for granted around us, what a good thing we had.

Readers' choice: Spam Allstars

Josh Miles is a Haitian-American soul singer who grew up in and around the churches where his parents served during his childhood. His passion for music is comparable to the zeal that makes true believers faint at many spiritual experiences. Born Joashmaël Michel, the 24-year-old singer/songwriter is the lead vocalist of J.M. & the Sweets (also known as Josh Miles & the Sweet Somethings). Raised in nondenominational churches that had praise bands and no need for boys' choirs, Miles began his vocal training after his mother, a singer, recognized his talent and put him in classes. Fed a steady diet of music by R&B and pop greats such as John Legend and Otis Redding, he discovered his personal hero, D'Angelo, as a kid, and things really clicked. J.M. & the Sweets comes across as a blend of Ben Harper, Gary Clark Jr., and John Mayer. Sultry, slick, and soulful, the group is equally impressive whether it's covering Bill Withers and Outkast or churning out a candlelit original slow jam. In addition to being as richly smooth as their name declares, J.M. and the Sweets are just as special. Now is the time to catch a truly magnificent group of musicians led by a charming powerhouse of a singer. They recently released their debut EP, Sol Village, and regularly gig throughout South Florida. No doubt they're on their way to something in line with the enormity of their talent.

When the Fish House began opening its Backroom Live stage for a blues jam every Thursday night, something curious happened. "I hire a lot of great musicians to come and play in the house band, but for the jam night, all these other incredible musicians show up just to play," says Angela Rivero, who owns the venerable Southwest Miami-Dade place with her husband Jose. Live music has been a staple of the deceptively cozy restaurant since it opened in 1996, but the Riveros' deep love affair with the blues really began after a trip to New Orleans in 2005. These days, their Backroom Live room is decked out in Bourbon Street finery and regularly hosts some of Dade's best players, such as Darrell Raines on guitar and Motel Mel on keyboards. Every Thursday night, the house band plays for an hour and then opens up the instruments to anyone who wants to lament how their love done 'em wrong. "It is an amazing thing, every week, how good the musicians are who show up," Angela says.

There isn't a large pool of Grammy-winning songwriters born and raised in Hialeah. But there is a songwriter, producer, and artist who's made the big-time in the past year. Alexander Izquierdo, AKA Eskeerdo, got his foot through the door of the music industry in 2010 thanks to a knack for writing powerful songs. After penning hits for Big Sean, Rihanna, Meek Mill, Diddy, and Selena Gomez, the Cuban-American won two Grammys for his songwriting efforts and also started his own career as a rapper. In 2014, he assisted in crafting hits such as Kendrick Lamar's "The Blacker the Berry" and Justin Bieber's "The Feeling." But he still had the energy to debut his breakthrough single "For the City," which went on to become the Miami Heat's official anthem. Since then, he's made plenty of noise in the rap game via EPs such as Cuban Jesus and his latest single, "Bitta." And he's still writing for others. Over the past year, Eskeerdo has crafted records for the biggest pop stars on the Billboard charts. He's responsible for hits like Fifth Harmony's "Work From Home" and Charlie Puth's "Dangerously." He even flexed his skills behind the boards as a writer and producer of smash hits such as Jason DeRulo's "If It Ain't Love" and Meghan Trainor's "Thank You" featuring Rock City. It's clear this 29-year-old songwriter stands out.

A swampy tribalism coats everything Nick León does. His sound is warm with the muggy air of South Florida. It wraps you in the haze of the midday sun and traps you with the soothing subtlety of crickets chirping in the dead of night. His is a lo-fi style inspired by the likes of Aphex Twin and DJ Shadow. His production on an album by New-York rappers the Underachievers caught the attention of Grammy-nominated beatmaking icon Daddy Kev. The Low End Theory founder was starting a new label called Alpha Pup, and he requested a full-length instrumental release from the South Florida music man. The result was Profecía, a nine-track LP that Miami New Times named the best musical release of 2016. This year, León continues to be a force on the city's electronic beat scene. He recently took up the mantle as head of the local label Space Tapes and has been working with a ton of local rappers. His future has never looked brighter.

The movie Suicide Squad was hit-or-miss with fans and critics, but the music video from the soundtrack's big single, "Purple Lamborghini," was a truly stunning bit of cinematography. First, the song absolutely slaps. Rick Ross says the electricity Skrillex added to the rapper's signature heavy darkness amped his flow to new heights. The video depicts Ross and Skrillex terrorizing Miami, and Jared Leto appears in full Joker mode. They ride around in hot whips and stand on the deck of a beautiful cigarette boat, all while the 305 shines bright like a diamond. Ross and Skrillex should have teamed up years ago.

Last summer, bassist Michael Ruiz-Unger, drummer Andres Bedoya, and guitarists Andreas Wong Chong and Jacob Israel composed a record that was dark and mysterious. The Miami quartet recorded the ten-song LP Sábana Ghost in Gainesville, but from the opening instrumental, "Stoned," the album takes listeners far from the Southeast to a dark and dusty dive bar where anything is possible. Their fuzzy guitar atmospherics make this the perfect soundtrack for any number of illicit activities, and their catchy hooks and choruses will stay in your head long after your music player has run out of juice. Fans of the dark retro garage rock played by groups like Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Brian Jonestown Massacre will especially dig this album. And if you're unfamiliar with those bands, Sábana Ghost is good enough to inspire you to research its influences.

Most fans prefer to see their favorite band in an intimate setting, but there's something incredibly exciting about attending an arena show. To walk along Biscayne Boulevard toward the American Airlines Arena and realize thousands of people are also walking to the beat of the same song is an electric and communal experience. The past year has seen the Triple A host everything from the rock of Radiohead and Red Hot Chili Peppers to the pop of Ariana Grande and Adele to the hip-hop of Kanye West and the Latin rock of Carlos Vives. This summer and fall will see Roger Waters, Depeche Mode, Bruno Mars, and Lady Gaga grace the stage. And there won't be a bad seat in the massive air-conditioned house.

Readers' choice: The Fillmore Miami Beach

This multifaceted venue opened its doors in February 2016 for iStandard's Producer Showcase. Since then, Miami Live has gained fame for holding various kinds of events that embrace local artists from across South Florida. Talents such as DJ Epps and Poe Boy Music Group's DJ Smokey host open-mike events every week. After you walk past the ticket booth, the illuminated stage along the wall catches your eye. The place has become the official home of exclusive Coast 2 Coast Live events, artist listening sessions, birthday parties, and other happenings. And the venue has hosted rare concerts like Prodigy of Mobb Deep and Joe Budden's only Magic City stop during the Rage Tour. Miami Live also has its own in-house studio and green room upstairs, which is available for recording sessions and private events. Though it's been open only a little more than a year, Miami Live has made clear that local artists have a place to realize their dreams and perform live.

Libertine was a good idea in theory. Space took part of its downstairs room and created a small lounge with a separate entrance. However, a few things inhibited the venue's growth, including an awkward and claustrophobic stage and a VIP area on a riser. So when the so-called Space Invaders — David Sinopoli, Davide Danese, Coloma Kaboomsky, and Eric Fuller — took over, they kept the elements that worked while tweaking the things that didn't. The main change was the flow of the room. Gone is the awkward riser; the whole room is now on one level. The stage could still use some work — perhaps removal of the walls that surround it — but this is a great venue thanks to strong programming that includes everything from jazz ensembles in the evening to late-night DJ sets. And the Space Invaders are just getting started in the Park West district, so Floyd's potential will likely soon be fully unlocked.

Artists in Miami are constantly looking for the perfect creative space on the cheap. While they dream of recording in lavish studios, there's one option that stands out for its unique creative space and reasonable prices. Since 2009, Mix Masters Studios has been giving artists, from trending rappers like Kevin Gates to local rising stars like Lajan Slim and Miami Tip, all the right tools to make their dreams come true. Founders Andres Mendoza and JP Perez started the studio in a two-bedroom house in Kendall in 2008 and then moved into the spacious studio they now call home. Everything an artist needs is available onsite: engineers, state-of-the-art mikes, powerful amps, and instruments like guitars and keyboards. The studio has two main recording rooms, the black and the blue, which are equipped to record, mix, and master tracks. But there's more. Looking for a spot to do a photo shoot? There's a room for that. Need a quiet space to host artist interviews? There's a lounge. Along with offering adequate recording rooms, Mix Masters also boasts an enormous rehearsal space that can be used to re-create performances and concerts of every kind. Despite all of these perks, the place isn't out to bankrupt rising artists. The lowest price that artists (with their own engineers) will pay is $25 per hour. However, if they want to go all out by booking the coveted black room with a Mix Masters engineer, the most they'll pay is $70 an hour. Mix Masters Studios is the perfect resolution for any musician, producer, or singer who knows the frustration of finding a studio that will tend to all of their creative needs at reasonable rates.

Wax worshippers, there's a new record store in town. Established in 2016, Brooklyn Vintage & Vinyl specializes in used vinyl. Located in the Artwood Projects building, the shop shares space with the online station Jolt Radio. This cozy spot boasts impressive and affordable selections created by everyone from Destiny's Child to the White Stripes to Tupac to Leonard Cohen. Don't let the store's size fool you. Tons of preloved records await your crate-digging hands. Grab your picks and cuddle up in the comfy chairs while you let that warm wax melt into your ears at the store's listening station. The shop's organized displays and friendly owner make for a pleasant day of vinyl hunting. Every third Sunday of the month, check out the shop's community events. Brooklyn Vintage & Vinyl is open Tuesday through Saturday from noon to 9 p.m.

Sweat Records is part of a global movement to recapture the simple pleasure of sitting down and listening to a record with friends. Classic Album Sundays, a collective record-listening event, began in the U.K. in 2010 and spread over time to record shops around the globe, including Sweat. Every month, the event begins with a warm-up record to set the mood and then highlights a classic album. The sessions at Sweat have included The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, Amy Winehouse's Back to Black, and Stevie Wonder's Songs in the Key of Life.

It's not easy to satisfy a major city's appetite for orchestral music, but that's exactly what Nu Deco Ensemble set out to do two years ago with its genre-bending concerts. Two seasons later, it consistently sells out shows at the Light Box in Wynwood. It also recently made its official Arsht Center debut. A typical Nu Deco concert consists of original music composed by the ensemble's Sam Hyken and conducted by Jacomo Rafael Bairos, an orchestral reworking of music by well-known nonclassical artists, and collaborations with artists from diverse parts of the music world. Nu Deco has reimagined music by contemporary artists including Prince, Kraftwerk, and Daft Punk. Collaborators for the ensemble's second season included Kishi Bashi, Danay Suarez, and Monsieur Periné. For its third season, Nu Deco has already announced a collaboration with Ben Folds and a return of Bashi.

Miami has no shortage of hype electronic music parties, Latin dance nights, and the kind of high-energy events expected in one of the world's party capitals. Sometimes, though, people are in the mood to sip a drink, sway to downbeat music, and catch a vibe. That's where RnBae, which takes place every third Thursday of the month at Gramps, comes in. The showcase shines a light on R&B artists in Miami and beyond. The signature purple flower crowns and cotton candy are perks that set the mood for a night out with your bae. RnBae Collective believes Miami is full of untapped R&B talent, and with a showcase that's quickly becoming a breakout event, it is proving that's true. Miami-based rising stars such as Native Youth and Twelve'Len have already made their RnBae debut, and if its popularity continues to rise, the showcase could become the go-to event for young geniuses.

Hip-hop festivals in Miami haven't been the same since Dope Entertainment created Rolling Loud. Since its inaugural show at SoHo Studios in Wynwood in 2015, the millennial rap festival has brought fans for a weekend of stellar performances by big acts like Future and Young Thug. Over the years, Rolling Loud has hosted a wide range of revered rappers, such as Curren$y, Queens, NY lyricist Action Bronson, and Top Dawg Ent's ScHoolboy Q on signature stages appropriately titled "Dab" and "Sauce." They've also included underground talent from across the nation, especially Miami internet sensations such as Pouya, Fat Nick, Denzel Curry, and Yung Simmie. The festival is known as a mecca for South Florida rap fans, and has become a coveted ticket for hip-hop heads outside of the state. Like many new festivals, Rolling Loud suffered growing pains and scathing feedback in its first year. In 2016, the festival moved to Mana Wynwood and made major improvements. While there was a lot more space to rage and the acts were impeccable, Dope Ent couldn't escape backlash from attendees and artists alike. This year, organizers did everything in their power to ensure Rolling Loud 2017 would go down well. From May 5 to 7, Kendrick Lamar, Future, Lil Wayne, Travis Scott, Run the Jewels and many others performed at the festival's new location at Bayfront Park in downtown. It was unofficially dubbed the "Ultra of hip-hop" by the Miami-Dade Police Department. The festival even had to beat back the Bayfront Park Management Trust board, which threatened to shut down the event due to internal misunderstandings. But the board relented and the fest went down without a hitch.

The beat emanates from Wynwood and pumps through your car stereo. It rides airwaves across the city and siphons through speakers and headphones plugged into radio computers and mobile devices. It's the fastest-growing FM station among listeners aged 25 to 54 in South Florida despite its lack of Clear Channel marketing campaigns. It's Revolution Radio, the real dance alternative to the usual pop fare. Owned and operated by Italian radio host Marco Mazzoli, Revolution Radio is a labor of love powered by lifelong music fanatics who understand you because they are you. The Revolution team has worked hard to expand its reach and give listeners the best content possible with live coverage of everything from Ultra Music Festival in Miami to the BPM Festival in Mexico. Daily programming includes programs hosted by industry leaders, from Armada Music to Claptone, Bob Sinclar, Markus Schulz, and others. Tune in for the latest contests, conversations, and a bootylicious blend of classic house anthems and cutting-edge dance tracks. Rest easy knowing your support goes to a dedicated team of locals. Fight the Man, and rave on.

Readers' choice: Revolution 93.5 FM

Ever get a little crunk with your friends and tell them you wish you had a giant plate of mac 'n' cheese in front of you? Then one of your friends sees that and raises you one by adding pulled pork to the dream dish? The drunk-food gods understand your fantasy. They have given you Ricky's. At this South Beach bar, find mac 'n' cheese-stuffed waffles with smoked pulled pork ($11); fries loaded with jalapeño Cheez Whiz, bacon, and fried cherry peppers ($8); and sliders with bacon and tater tots ($4.50). There's also gourmet popcorn and corn dogs because why not? Save room for dessert, and you'll be rewarded with childhood favorites from the "Carnival Sweets" menu: bomb pops and Snickers bars. Add a crafted cocktail menu and videogames, and you're 15 again, but with a credit card and the ability to legally drink alcohol. Whooo! Ricky's is open Monday through Friday from 5 p.m. to 5 a.m. and Saturday and Sunday from 2 p.m. to 5 a.m.

Readers' choice: Tap 42

If you live in Miami, Teddy Collins has likely already served you a cocktail and a smile. The affable barman, originally from Rhode Island, moved to South Florida for college and, like many of us, fell for the beaches and nightlife. Collins has worked behind the stick at favorites like Radio Bar and Dolce Italian, but it's at his midtown Miami spot, Bitter Truth, that the barman really feels free. Her serves, in his own words, "fair and balanced" cocktails including a Sazerac made with cold-brew coffee and a Moscow mule in a fruit juice can ($13). The best deal in town, however, is his daily punch ($5), poured from a handmade Rube Goldberg contraption of pipes and lighting fixtures. The bar is open Wednesday through Sunday from 4 p.m. to 4 a.m.

Camouflaged amid Wynwood's bright, sprawling murals, this sleek industrial spot offers a happy hour that's the best-kept secret in this boozy hood. While the hipsters flock to Wood and Gramps in never-ending lines, the folks at GK Bistronomie usher their happy-hour patrons to either a stool at the counter or a table — the latter comes with a server, who shuttles orders and drinks back and forth from the bartender to guests. The drink selection isn't limited to brews on tap: GK serves elaborate $5 cocktails like frothy chicha pisco sours and all the Moscow mules and margaritas a thirsty soul can swig between 4:30 and 7:30 p.m. And if your tummy starts grumbling, this place also dishes up savory, artistic small plates such as fish tacos and yuca fries for a reasonable chunk of change. Without the eardrum-shattering tunes or crowds of other establishments, it's the ideal spot to exchange workplace horror stories, talk shit with your besties, or meet a Tinder date IRL. If you snag a booth by the street-facing windows, you can sip with delight as you watch the skinny-jeans zombies stampede past.

Readers' choice: Sweet Liberty

What's better than ladies' night at a waterfront bar? Ladies' night on a boat. And that's what you get at the all-new Boatyard in Fort Lauderdale, where an exceptionally awesome evening de la mujer goes down every Thursday from 7 to 10 p.m. Those of the female persuasion drink free at any one of the restaurant's three bars, including an outdoor fire-pit lounge area. Each bar offers a wide selection of complimentary bubbly, cocktails, house wine, and domestic beer. A ladies-only happy hour begins at 4 p.m., when all drinks, including wine by the glass and specialty cocktails, are half off. Get there early, and you and your girls can snag a spot on one of Boatyard's complimentary champagne cruises on the Intracoastal, which depart hourly at 7:15, 8:15, and 9:15 p.m. Onboard, you can sip free champagne, house liquor, house wine, and domestic beer. Reservations for the boat rides, which hold ten passengers, are first come, first served.

The era of the traditional VIP room is over. Everyone is VIP these days. Just stand next to any velvet rope in South Beach, and sure enough, you'll hear someone scream, "Don't you know who I am?" after being denied entry. So what do you do when everyone feels like a special snowflake? You make your entire club one big VIP section. That's exactly what Ora Nightclub did when it took over the former Adore space at the Boulan South Beach. The 10,000-square-foot space is decorated like a megaclub but feels intimate anyway. Upstairs you'll find the Anti-Social Room, a sort of club within a club that offers well-made cocktails and a decibel level that allows you to have a conversation with your fellow VIPs. Recently, nightlife heavyweights Emi Guerra and Louis Diaz joined the Ora team, so the programming, which veers toward house music, is expected to ramp up throughout the year. However, be warned: At the door, Ora is by no means egalitarian. If you don't look the part or your group's gender balance is out of whack, you'll probably encounter roadblocks. But isn't trying to get in half the fun?

Staying up until an ungodly hour to see your favorite DJ spin is something you can handle only once in a while. Sometimes you just want to get home at a decent hour and wake up without a hangover. Enter Vamos a la Playa: Laura (of Miami) and Patrick Walsh's late-afternoon-until-early-evening party at Gramps. The Klangbox.FM crew throws the party on select Sundays, because weekly parties are so passé these days. Acts that have appeared so far include In Flagranti, Palmbomen II, Jacques Renault, and King Britt. Plus, there's no cover, which means you can put that money toward your bar tab. And because the party wraps up around midnight, you can still make it to work Monday and spend your day dreaming about the next time Klangbox.FM lures you out for a fun night.

If you've been around Miami's club scene, you know Alan T. He's flamboyant, loud, aggressive, charming, and funny all at the same time. He has to be. He deals with throngs of people trying to get into some of the city's brightest hot spots. He has to hear, "But I know so-and-so, and he told me I was on the list!" about a hundred times every night. So you can't blame him for being curt with patrons. However, unlike the French doormen that litter Miami Beach's nightclubs, Alan T puts on a show, sometimes with a loudspeaker to amplify the insults he throws at people. Currently, he works for Space on Saturdays, but he's been around, working the doors for spots such as Pawn Shop Lounge and Nocturnal. In addition to being a doorman, he's also a house-music vocalist (he has the Discogs page to prove it) and holds a master's in architecture from Columbia University. He's basically a nightlife renaissance man. Still, Alan T's greatest talent is making the door at Space more interesting.

Men tend to dominate the nightlife game in Miami. It's not that there aren't plenty of women who are involved. It's just that reporters — including some at this paper — can be a bit myopic when it comes to the women playing the game well. Nobody — man or woman — plays it better than PL0T founder Becks Lange. Her parties have long been the talk of the town, but she has really found her groove in the past few years thanks to stellar events such as the yearly Life and Death bash during Art Basel. And because Lange isn't necessarily beholden to one venue, PL0T parties float around to places like the Electric Pickle, Trade, 1306, and Bardot. (That being said, if you want to catch one of PL0T's parties, the Pickle seems to host them with some regularity.) She and her cohort of nightlife denizens are free to mold the events to their vision. They book some high-caliber underground dance acts like Nina Kraviz, DJ Tennis, and Âme. Lange doesn't do your average EDM fare and instead wants to expose Miami to acts that are bringing something different to the table. Miami is lucky to have her.

Karaoke might not be the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the name Sing Sing. But the place is based on the hugely popular establishments in Japan that include multiple private rooms, each equipped with a karaoke player and microphones. At its flagship in Miami and two locations in New York, Sing Sing provides a public space, complete with a small stage in the corner, for budding sopranos or tenors walking in off the street. But the real value is in the private rooms. Standard room rates run about $8 per person for a space that accommodates ten to 12 people. Happy-hour pricing, from opening till 8 p.m., is about $4 per person. Plus, VIP rooms offer space for up to 22 people and are ideal for birthday and wedding parties. Sing Sing is open Monday through Thursday from 5 p.m. to 3 a.m., Friday and Saturday from 5 p.m. to 5 a.m., and Sunday from 6 p.m. to 3 a.m. The music catalog is regularly updated and about as international as Miami, with songs in Chinese, Russian, Spanish, and English. Though, yes, it's necessary to buy a drink in order to sing in the public space, that's sort of the point, isn't it? Plus, you never know who you might run into. In 2014, none other than Beyoncé and Kelly Rowland crashed a karaoke set of a Destiny's Child song by a pair of very surprised customers. This place is all about being a star for a night.

Readers' choice: Ricky's South Beach

Actually, finding single men isn't the difficult part. They're everywhere! They're sitting around the table at every poker game, chugging Bud Light at every sports bar in town, and ogling bikinis on South Beach every weekend. But those aren't the kind of single fellas you're looking for. You want a man who wants to spend the night paying attention to you and — gasp — who is willing to try something new. You'll find him every second Thursday of the month at the North Beach Bandshell, at Dance Band Night, an entirely free event (with an option to donate) put on by the Rhythm Foundation. The event comes in two parts: At 7 p.m., experts give lessons in every type of dance you might want to try in Miami, including salsa, swing, samba, and konpa. There is also a happy hour, when you can partake of a little liquid social lubrication to loosen things up. Then, at 8 p.m., you can put the moves you just learned to use with a concert from a killer live act such as Rose Max Samba Band or Batuke Samba Funk. If you can't find romance here — with stars in the sky, music in the air, and the beach only steps away — you might as well give up.

We love bars. We spend far too much of our lives in bars. Bars rock. But bars are not the optimal place to make a love connection. Just take a look around. You can barely see in the dim light — how will you know if you're even really attracted to the woman you just met over overpriced tequila shots? And forget about intelligent conversation with that '80s rock blasting. There are better options, amigo, such as the volleyball courts at Lummus Park in South Beach. On these sandy courts, which are free and open to the public just off Ocean Drive, strangers of both sexes meet to bump, set, and serve in a gentle sea breeze. Under the bright sun, you'll have plenty of time to see how your potential romantic partner operates under pressure, how much blame she is willing to assign and accept after a botched point, and — yes, OK — how she looks in a swimsuit. And, hey, if it doesn't work out for you on the volleyball courts, there are plenty of bars a few steps away to drink away the failure. Just don't expect to find a good date over that whiskey.

Tired of scrolling through a seemingly endless stream of bros in manks (that's male tank tops, obviously) on Tinder? Done with the kind of dudes who text you only past 10 p.m.? Head to the Olympia Theater the second Tuesday of the month for the Moth's Miami StorySlam, where for $10 you can listen to true stories told live and sip cocktails for a few extra bucks. With open-mike topics touching on everything from love to loss, it's safe to bet the audience is packed with emotionally intelligent men — you know, the type who read books and tune into NPR. Catch eyes with one of them under the softly lit chandeliers of the historic, Mediterranean-inspired theater, and you just might have the perfect story to someday tell your smarty-pants kids.

When you hear Lutze Segu speak about the Femme Agenda's coalition, you might feel like a high-speed train just rushed by about three inches from your face. That's because the passion and expertise of Segu, who is the Miami Workers Center's gender justice organizer, are palpable — and are exactly what make this intersectional-feminist, grassroots committee the radical, inclusive, and sorely needed space South Florida needs. The Femme Agenda advocates for reproductive justice and adequate sex education in Miami-Dade, a domestic workers' bill of rights, and affordable housing and living wages for the women most affected by poverty and discrimination. Femme Saturdays is a space open to anyone in South Florida interested in learning more about social justice and allyship and has included everyone from seasoned black, indigenous, and trans activists to Pinecrest soccer moms foraying into sociopolitical activism. Looking to impress these brilliant femmes who gather in the Workers Center's MiMo District office? Take a few minutes to brush up on your bell hooks and Angela Davis before popping in. After all, if it's fiercely intelligent beauties you're after, you sure as hell should be willing to fight for their equality and access to opportunity.

Stop fussing about whether to take your Tinder matches out for Chinese or Italian, because any sane Miamian will admit they couldn't care less about General Tso's chicken and more about a date that limits awkward silences. Cinema Series at SoundScape Park has you covered. At 8 p.m. every Wednesday between October and May, a movie — anything from Finding Dory to The Great Gatsby and Napoleon Dynamite — is projected free of charge in glorious HD on the huge, 7,000-square-foot white wall of the Frank Gehry-designed New World Center. There's plenty of space in the 2.5-acre park to spread out on a blanket and cozy up, or post up with lawn chairs next to the wall. One hundred sixty-seven individually tuned speakers installed throughout the park augment the sound and drone out those uncomfortable breaks in conversation between you and your new paramour. The park's location — conveniently located next to the Miami Beach Convention Center parking lot — allows for a stroll and a bite to eat before or after the flick.

The very same things that make Miami fascinating and glorious also make it exhausting. It's a vibrant hub of international visitors, but those same visitors make traffic cutthroat, pack the always-bumping clubs, and choke up Wynwood's streets while snapping endless selfies. Locals need an escape. Look no further than Schnebly Redland's Winery & Brewery, a patch of paradise about 35 miles southwest of downtown Miami. The winery and brewery sit on 30 lush acres in the Redland — about as far as you can get from luxury high-rises and crammed streets. Schnebly even has waterfalls. The wine is made from local fruits such as lychee, guava, and avocado. Not your thing? You can guzzle beers brewed with mango and coconut at Miami Brewing Co., located right on the grounds. Winetasting costs $12.95 per person. (Friday nights, there's a $10 cover for live entertainment; Saturday nights, it's $12.50.) There's even a farm-to-table restaurant, the Redlander, adjacent to the winetasting area, and out back in the taproom, a grill serves bar bites such as chicken wings, ribs, and tacos. Spend an afternoon here to "uncork, unplug, unwind," as the company's tag line goes, and you just might be ready to take on life in the Magic City again.

When Fidel Castro died last year, only one spot in town drew dozens of sweat-drenched reporters, flag-waving exilios, and politicians clad in guayaberas: Versailles, the still-beating heart of Miami's Cuban diaspora. Presidential candidates can't win in this town without first sipping a cafecito at the restaurant's ventanita. The building remains a relic from Miami's 1980s heyday, when Cuban dissidents hung out inside and plotted ways to overthrow the Castro dictatorship. Nowadays, the eatery remains a family-friendly outpost for locals and tourists alike, where you can still down a plate of ropa vieja next to a city commissioner or just a few viejos talking trash about Che. When your out-of-town guests want a taste of the loco energy that makes the Magic City tick, a quick stop at Versailles is the only ticket you need.

The Best Picture mixup at this year's Oscars might be the craziest thing to ever go down on the Academy Awards stage. But it didn't even rank among the weirdest things that happened in Miami's film scene this year, thanks to the Borscht Film Festival. For the tenth edition of its irregularly scheduled fest, the Borscht collective — a group of young filmmakers devoted to celebrating and sharing Miami's essential strangeness, and also responsible for introducing Moonlight's creators to each other — planned five days of hilarious and heartbreaking events and film screenings. They staged the festival's death, holding a funeral service at a Little Havana mortuary. They brought Animal Collective to the New World Center, a venue that normally hosts classical symphonies, to play trippy tunes accompanying videos of coral having sex. They rode Jet Skis across Biscayne Bay to a screening of the Kevin Costner anti-classic Waterworld. And if Borscht's events were inspired, the films the collective produced were inspiring. At the main screening, viewers saw a documentary about a dude who got internet-famous by filming videos of himself feeding deer in his backyard; a gritty neon drama about a violent Manila gang; and the short, animated tale of a Miami manicurist. One film showed artist Antonia Wright's naked body crashing through a glass pane in slow motion, over and over, more reverent, violent, and meaningful with each repetition. By the time the calendar hit Borscht's final day, which coincided with the Oscars, Moonlight's unorthodox win felt not only justified but also perfectly on trend.

Warranted or not, there's sure a lot of talk about Soviet-era Communism filtering through the Zeitgeist. (Spasibo, Comrade Trump!) But Miami's jaw dropped in February when news broke that essentially boiled down to "state-run body tries to take control of public news-radio station." And, yes, that story took place right here in Miami-Dade County, not in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Thanks to some wacky funding rules, the Miami-Dade County School Board technically owns the license to 91.3 WLRN, South Florida's essential National Public Radio affiliate. Apropos of nothing, the school board randomly decided it ought to have the power to hire and fire WLRN reporters and wanted to immediately force the station's 19 journalists to "reapply" for their jobs. Head-scratchingly, the board tried to claim the move was all about "safety," because WLRN reporters aren't subject to the same background-check requirements as other school board employees such as teachers or principals. This, of course, ignored the fact that the station had offered to match its rules to those of the school board, and shone a light on the real reason behind the move: A bald-faced power grab so obscene that the school board quickly had to retreat in the face of national outrage. Good call, because this isn't Soviet Russia, and a state body should never try to take over a news organization.

Rich or poor, beautiful or ugly, everyone has at least two things in common: We all, occasionally, need to go number one or number two. This can be a problem if, say, you find yourself in the middle of a shopping spree at Tom Ford on a muggy summer afternoon with only minutes until blastoff. If you so much as fart on one of those suits, they'll charge you a month's rent. Luckily, just up the escalator and to the right in Palm Court of Miami's luxe Design District lies the city's most glorious public bathrooms. Oh, they're something — spotless and sleek, with all the amenities you could hope for. The stalls offer privacy from floor to ceiling, eliminating that awkward eye-contact gap most mall bathrooms subject you to. Sweet soap and multiple drying options make cleanup a breeze.

The best thing about living in Miami is the endless supply of things to do on the weekends. You can lounge on a pristine beach, dive amid neon-hued coral, blast through the Everglades in an airboat, and dance until sunrise at myriad world-class nightclubs. Dave Doebler took one look at the list of those selfish but glorious free-time options and thought, Actually, I would like to spend my Saturdays collecting trash. Doebler runs Volunteer Cleanup, a group that organizes trash pickup operations across Miami Beach. Doebler also chairs the city's Sustainability and Resiliency Committee and has worked to ban polystyrene products from polluting Biscayne Bay. Doebler knows South Florida is an environmental jewel — and unlike the thousands of visitors who vomit garbage on the beach every weekend, he sticks around to take care of it.

In a few short years, the stretch of Miami Beach from 32nd to 36th Street has gone from a rundown tourist trap to a glittering, world-class destination for the top 1 percent of the 1 percent. This is due to the vision of Alan Faena working with an incredible group of collaborators, including his longtime work partner, Ximena Caminos. The Argentine Faena is all id: He wears white exclusively, walks around in hats as large as oil rigs, and spends his free time building gigantic hotels and art houses with his name slapped on the side. He's like the most tasteful sibling Donald Trump never had. (Goldman Sachs CEO Lloyd Blankfein and art-world king Larry Gagosian have already bought property at the Faena House condos, so Faena's Rolodex isn't far off from the Donald's.) And Caminos, the executive director of the nonprofit Faena Art, is in charge of bringing the culture of the district to life by supporting artists through the commissioning of new and time-based exhibitions — from popular to experimental — that are open to the community. In November, Caminos told Vogue she's trying to use the District's spaces, such as the newly built Faena Forum on Indian Creek Drive, to create a "fantastic artists' movement, a new romanticism" in town. We'll take that over a faceless condo complex any day.

Seventeen-year-old Tyrese Cooper, easily one of the fastest teenagers in America and among the fastest people in the world, trains on a homemade dirt track in Miami Gardens. Raised in a cozy house in the throes of Liberty City, the tall and willowy high-school junior has broken nearly every national high-school track record in which he's competed. That's an especially rare feat because most competitive runners stick to a single race. High-school track meets, especially short-distance events, are typically neck-and-neck contests. But two years ago, Cooper caught everyone's attention when the no-name eighth-grader began leaving freshmen and sophomores at least ten meters behind him at the finish line. Now Cooper doesn’t run to win; he runs for time. In the 400-meter, his signature race, the shy teen clocks 45.23, which makes him one of the ten fastest people on Earth. In that event, Cooper is faster than Usain Bolt was at his age. Cooper will likely go pro at the end of the year, and he's a shoo-in to represent the United States at the World Championships in London this August. After that? Medals await at the Tokyo 2020 Olympics.

He looks so sincerely happy in the mid-'90s yearbook photos: shirtless and slathered in orange and green paint at an Orange Bowl tailgate, visiting lonely old folks at a retirement home, building a Habitat for Humanity house with his fellow University of Miami law school classmates. Reince Priebus was a brilliant, well-liked student during his three years in Coral Gables before graduating cum laude in 1998. He was elected president of the Student Bar Association, helped edit the Law Review, and even played shortstop on Oral Proposition, their cheekily named softball team. In other words, he's not the kind of kid you'd have expected to help usher fascism into America. Yet there he is today, ever-present in the shadow of Donald Trump. As White House chief of staff, he has overseen the xenophobic Muslim ban, stood behind the Russian-aided election hacking, and silently cheered the catastrophic Trumpcare plan. Where has our old, carefree Reince gone? Someone get Priebus some Canes face paint, stat.

As a child, Angelica Sweeting quickly noticed the dolls she played with didn't look much like her. Sure, some had darker skin like her own, but they also had straight hair, thin noses, and Caucasian features. Those dolls defined her standard of beauty and lowered her self-esteem. Years later, when her own 4-year-old daughter said she wished her hair was long, straight, and blond like Frozen's Elsa, Sweeting tried to find dolls with black features. When she couldn't, the University of Miami business school grad quit her job to solve the problem herself. That was almost three years ago. Since then, Sweeting has unveiled "Angelica": an 18-inch vinyl doll with fuller lips, a wider nose, and black tresses with kinks and curls. After successfully raising funds online and then selling more than 1,600 dolls in less than a year, Sweeting released three other dolls: Another black doll with a darker complexion, a Latina doll, and a biracial doll. In January, Sweeting appeared on Shark Tank, where Daymond John invested $200,000 in Naturally Perfect Dolls. Now she'll be able to mass-produce the dolls and make the toy store less homogenous for the next generation of children.

In Greek mythology, sirens lured unwitting sailors to their deaths on rocky shores by taking the form of gorgeous women with enchanted voices. In Miami, where drunk partiers outnumber seafarers by a sizable margin, it only makes sense that our modern-day sirens prey on unsuspecting dance-floor navigators instead. That's exactly what police say 21-year-old Liz Rios did for months. On at least five occasions, police say, Rios met men at high-end clubs, took them home, drugged them, and then robbed them blind. Her haul allegedly included six figures' worth of Rolex watches, Louis Vuitton duffle bags, and jewelry. Fingerprints and surveillance footage brought this most Miami of crime sprees to an end. Rios faces three counts of felony grand theft.

In the grand scheme of Dade County, South Miami doesn't matter. The oversize village of 12,000 souls wedged between Kendall and Coral Gables is known as a quiet place to live if it's known at all. That's why Philip Stoddard's tale is all the more remarkable. As mayor of a place most South Floridians could barely place on the map, Stoddard has taken on one of the state's most powerful institutions — Florida Power & Light — and, in his free time, become one of Florida's loudest voices on climate change. It helps that he isn't just a politician: He's a professor in Florida International University's biology department. So when he stands up to sea-level-rise deniers like Rick Scott and Donald Trump, he has the intellectual goods to win the argument. Similarly, even FPL's millions in lobbying dollars haven't been able to squash his battle against the company's ill-planned new nuclear reactors in South Miami-Dade. Stoddard is living proof never to discount little guys who have science on their side.

Last year, Florida Power & Light had a conundrum. More and more Floridians, increasingly worried about climate change and sea-level rise, wanted freedom to invest in solar power. But the electricity monopoly wanted to keep its profits pouring into nuclear and natural gas. What to do? FPL came up with an ingenious solution: Amendment 1, a sneakily worded law that pretended to boost solar while actually giving FPL more power to crush the budding green energy. FPL sank $8 million into trying to trick voters, but a think tank's president working with the monopoly was caught on tape boasting about their transparent plan to fool Floridians. The amendment was quashed at the ballot box, falling far short of the 60 percent it needed to pass. Sad!

If you've ever wondered what sort of weird garbage a human being would be willing to eat in exchange for $68 million, you can finally add "fake passport" to the list. You can thank two now-convicted human traffickers, Bartolo Hernandez and Julio Estrada, for answering that question. In March, the pair was convicted of smuggling scores of Cuban athletes into Mexico or Haiti on speedboats and then into the States, where the players would join Major League Baseball teams for multimillion-dollar contracts. (The smugglers would get a cut of the players' earnings in exchange for the boat trip across international waters.) As for that passport-eating: Jose Abreu, now a star slugger for the Chicago White Sox, admitted in court that in 2013, as part of Hernandez and Estrada's smuggling pipeline, he traveled from Cuba to Haiti and then to Miami using a fake Haitian passport to meet the deadline for his $68 million MLB deal. He ate the passport on his flight before landing at MIA. He washed it down with a Heineken.

Most government PR reps are paid to spew lies to the public in order to keep citizens afraid and confused. (See: Spicer, Sean.) Melissa Berthier, however, is the rare city spokesperson who's always worth listening to, because she's usually actively trying to stop you from drowning. Berthier, as Miami Beach's communications head, works to educate the public about the very real risks associated with climate change and sea-level rise and to wage an ongoing war against the fake-news industrial complex that tries to deny those problems. When the Daily Caller, a website run by reactionary silk bow tie Tucker Carlson, attempted to claim Miami was actually "sinking" into the ground because developers had built too many skyscrapers, Berthier wasn't having it. She contacted the website's editors to force them to correct their garbage reporting, which had completely misquoted her. Berthier helps run multiple city programs to educate people about the fact that, unless we seriously do something about carbon emissions, Miami Beach will start looking a heck of a lot like Venice in the next hundred years.

Downtown Miami's most famous building is a 17-story monument to the idea that being kind to refugees is a good idea. Built in the 1920s as an extremely ornate printing facility for the now-defunct Miami News (rest in peace), the building became a federal processing center for refugees from Fidel Castro's Communist regime in the 1960s until the government sold the building in 1974. In those days, the Freedom Tower basically became the Cuban-American diaspora's Ellis Island. Now the tower — which was designated a National Historic Landmark in 2008 — stands as a museum stocked with illuminating exhibits about the Cuban experience and regular free speeches from luminaries such as choreographer Shen Wei and photo legend Cristina Garcia Rodero. But more important, it stands as a monument to the idea that immigrants make the nation a more vibrant, interesting, and wonderful place. Now why would that be relevant today?

Swampspace is not necessarily a relaxing place to be high. This art gallery is brightly lit and sparsely decorated on the inside, with little more than a small stage sitting in front of a basic kitchen. But for all Swampspace lacks in stoner-friendly decor, it makes up for by consistently packing its venue with strange, interesting, and wacked-out characters. The brainchild of art-scene veteran Oliver Sanchez, Swampspace has been offering an alternative venue to Miami's more commercial spaces since 2008, right in the heart of the chichi Design District. And Sanchez — a former art director at High Times, it's worth noting — is a genius at finding the most mind-bending projects possible. At one performance last year, a musician made ambient noise-rock by drilling into a block of ice. That was followed by a long-haired, white rap duo that was endearingly terrible. Swampspace is like hanging out in SpongeBob's Bikini Bottom, in that you're never quite sure if the people gathering around you are extremely hip human beings or deities from another world altogether.

Miami Beach Mayor Philip Levine hasn't been doing all that great in 2017. He's spent considerable hours tweeting sad-face emojis at Airbnb's corporate account while feuding with the company about operating in his town. He keeps blocking his critics on Twitter and Facebook like he's a digital Smaug standing guard over a tiny, web-based cave. And in a roomful of Cuban-American lawyers and businessmen in March, he made what might have been the most poorly conceived joke in Miami history. After the multimillionaire businessman declared himself an "honorary member" of Miami's Cuban-American community, he casually suggested invading the Caribbean nation. "Why aren't we discussing the invasion of the island?" he asked the crowd, to what some in attendance said were audible gasps. He then said a platoon of U.S. troops could likely take over within 24 hours. There's a whole host of reasons why that comment wasn't funny: namely, that Cuba's history involves a series of Spanish and U.S.-backed invasions from roughly the 1500s onward, and at one point, Cuban people were put in concentration camps. Levine's joke didn't land, and the mayor's spokesperson, Christian Ulvert, was then forced into epic damage-control mode. "The mayor, as reported, was not serious about invading Cuba," he told New Times. You sure?

Last year, a WalletHub survey ranked Miami one of the least caring cities in the United States. How did the Magic City measure so poorly? According to WalletHub, its researchers found a distinct lack of volunteerism and caring for the vulnerable, suggesting Miamians are perhaps a bit self-centered. But it's never too late to change that perception, and there's no better place to begin than at Miami Lighthouse for the Blind, one of the city's oldest charitable organizations serving the visually impaired. And though not everyone has deep pockets to make a considerable donation, Miami Lighthouse offers other ways for people to help. Simply fill out a volunteer application on its website to help with everything from children's programs to vision screenings and fundraising. Because Miami Lighthouse has a four-star Charity Navigator rating, volunteers and donors can trust that their time and money will be well spent.

MAST gets everything right about education in Miami. It's a public magnet school, so it's designed (in theory, at least) to pull in the top students, regardless of income level, and nurture their curiosity in science and tech. It's situated on Virginia Key, in one of the lushest parts of the city, so close to the bay that the air smells like salt water most days. It's no secret, then, why MAST students excel at oceanography. The nearby and also excellent Design and Architecture Senior High in the Design District channels many young people into (the very respectable and necessary) artistic fields, but Miami has a dearth of stellar scientists, which means MAST is leading the charge in turning the city into more than just a one-industry tourism town. Oh, and the school is hellaciously good at what it does: MAST was recently ranked the 100th-best high school in the United States. If a Miamian ever figures out how to save this town from sea-level rise, chances are that person will be a MAST alum.

Living in any major metropolitan city has its trade-offs. In Miami, head-smashing rush-hour traffic and rent prices that would make a Brooklynite blush are small prices to pay for living in a perma-paradise. Nothing highlights our climatic advantage quite like our ability to enjoy outdoor shows year-round, even while the rest of America is huddled under puffy coats and knit hats. And Pineapple Sundays are a reliably great way to get that outdoor music fix. The Pineapple Stage — painted to look just like a ripe piña as a nod to Ball & Chain's signature Pineapple Celebration cocktail — has been home to local talent for the better part of three years. In 2016, the bar kicked off its monthly Sundays concert series. Ample space between tables in front of the stage allows cozy, candlelit date nights or sweaty dance-offs in the aisles. The series has mostly hosted jazz and Latin acts, though Miami favorites such as DJ Le Spam, Electric Kif, Keith Johns, and Magic City Hippies have all shown up for the monthly minifestival. At night, the stage boasts impressive, concert-quality lighting effects, blending the luxurious feel of Miami nightlife with the homey comfort of a Little Havana backyard family cookout. Plus, the shows are free, and the bar offers happy hour from 4 to 7 p.m.

Asahd Khaled, DJ Khaled's infant son, is cuter than a basketful of newborn pygmy hippos. He's cuter than your octogenarian grandparents swing-dancing together after a few cocktails at your cousin's wedding. Swiping past his adorable little cheeks on his famous father's social media accounts can brighten your entire afternoon. Staring at a pure smile from Asahd Khaled is, we presume, roughly as enjoyable as staring directly upon the visage of some sort of sun emperor. Asahd Khaled, born live on Snapchat October 23, 2016, spends his days traveling around the world on his dad's private chartered jets, occasionally popping up in random toy stores and buying the entire inventory like he's baby Howard Hughes. Plus, Asahd Khaled is also a straight-up musical genius: He's listed as the executive producer on his dad's upcoming album, Grateful. Asahd Khaled can, and will, steal your girlfriend. You won't even be angry. That's just what tiny moguls do.