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BEST LOCAL SONGWRITER

Fernando Osorio

The test of a great songwriter is in the depth and variety of the songs. It's enough to hear Fernando Osorio perform the 2001 tune he wrote for Celia Cruz, "La Negra Tiene Tumbao" ("The Black Woman Has Swing"), in his own acoustic, shoe-gazing style to appreciate the infinite possibilities of his lyrics and melodies. Born in Bogotá and reared in Venezuela, this Miami resident has penned tunes for acts as diverse as Venezuelan crooner Ricardo Montaner, Dominican merenguero Sergio Vargas, Puerto Rican salsero Jerry Rivera, and urban New York trio DLG. But his greatest gifts to listeners so far have been Celia's last two blockbuster hits, which Osorio co-wrote with producer Sergio George: "La Negra" and "Rie y Llora" ("Laugh and Cry"). There can be no doubt that this songwriter has swing or that his hour has arrived -- deep and diverse.

BEST LOCAL SONGWRITER

Fernando Osorio

The test of a great songwriter is in the depth and variety of the songs. It's enough to hear Fernando Osorio perform the 2001 tune he wrote for Celia Cruz, "La Negra Tiene Tumbao" ("The Black Woman Has Swing"), in his own acoustic, shoe-gazing style to appreciate the infinite possibilities of his lyrics and melodies. Born in Bogotá and reared in Venezuela, this Miami resident has penned tunes for acts as diverse as Venezuelan crooner Ricardo Montaner, Dominican merenguero Sergio Vargas, Puerto Rican salsero Jerry Rivera, and urban New York trio DLG. But his greatest gifts to listeners so far have been Celia's last two blockbuster hits, which Osorio co-wrote with producer Sergio George: "La Negra" and "Rie y Llora" ("Laugh and Cry"). There can be no doubt that this songwriter has swing or that his hour has arrived -- deep and diverse.

BEST WEATHERCASTER

Jackie Johnson

If weathercasters were ever accurate, this award would probably go to the one who was most often on the money about rain showers and cold fronts. But because forecasts are all the same and as reliable as a Bush administration intelligence report, the winner here must have something beyond the latest bulletin from the weather bureau. No weathercaster is as easy on the eyes as WSVN-TV's Jackie Johnson (Channel 7). Attractive, shapely, a self-described "outdoor girl" from Michigan, Double J has made the weather segment a must-see, especially among young males who judge women by superficialities like attractiveness, figure, and affinity for the outdoors. Her station knows this way too well: Sex appeal is what makes Johnson and WSVN a perfect match. She even has a special feature, "Living It Up," wherein assignments range from learning to handle the throttle on a speedboat to playing beach volleyball to "surfing" on South Beach. Segments like the last thrust a scantily clad, dripping wet Johnson straight into your throbbing living room. And you thought meteorologists were boring.

BEST CHANNELING OF JACKIE GLEASON

Buster Poindexter at the Jackie Gleason Theater

If you're going to channel the big man, and in his old headquarters no less, be sure to go all the way. Which is just what David Johansen did, sifting through his many onstage guises -- from the folk of his current outfit the Harry Smiths to the glam punk of his fabled early-Seventies New York Dolls -- to resurrect Buster Poindexter, a loving sendup of the Rat Pack crooners that resulted in his fluke 1987 hit "Hot Hot Hot." So, tossing his scarf jauntily over his shoulder, and with a highball raised, ol' Buster led his eminently swinging twelve-piece band through a spirited set. There were brilliantly corny monologues and a downright touching lament for the now-vanished seediness of South Beach: "They don't smoke/They don't drink/They turned this town into a mall and I don't know what to think!" The crowning moment: a conga line that circled the Jackie Gleason, capping a night that would've made the Honeymooner proud.

BEST CHANNELING OF JACKIE GLEASON

Buster Poindexter at the Jackie Gleason Theater

If you're going to channel the big man, and in his old headquarters no less, be sure to go all the way. Which is just what David Johansen did, sifting through his many onstage guises -- from the folk of his current outfit the Harry Smiths to the glam punk of his fabled early-Seventies New York Dolls -- to resurrect Buster Poindexter, a loving sendup of the Rat Pack crooners that resulted in his fluke 1987 hit "Hot Hot Hot." So, tossing his scarf jauntily over his shoulder, and with a highball raised, ol' Buster led his eminently swinging twelve-piece band through a spirited set. There were brilliantly corny monologues and a downright touching lament for the now-vanished seediness of South Beach: "They don't smoke/They don't drink/They turned this town into a mall and I don't know what to think!" The crowning moment: a conga line that circled the Jackie Gleason, capping a night that would've made the Honeymooner proud.

BEST COMMANDO HANGOUT

Loop Road

A lovely hot winter's afternoon on this winding way through the Everglades adjacent to Tamiami Trail. Indians in new-model sedans waving as they blow by. Two French women pigmenting canvases with the bold black-and-white images of wood storks set against the verdancy of piny perches. A dozen alligators basking by the shallows. A rubber-booted phycologist holding a magnifying glass above a scummy rock. An assortment of unusual structures that nonconformists call home. An eyes-to-the-ground snake collector toting a pillowcase and walking stick. An anhinga spreading its wings after a postlunch swim. The blue and white of the endless sky giving way to the ochre-orange fade of the sun. Peace in the swamp. And then -- yikes! Pickup trucks with Confederate flags across the rear windows screech to a halt. Out spring cropped-top, fatigue-wearing, gun-toting, painted-face warriors of unknown affiliation. Seriously serious-looking soldiers without a war whom one dare not risk approaching. In fact hitting the gas and getting the hell out of there is the right idea. Talk about your freaks of nature.

BEST PLACE TO STARGAZE

The Old Trail

About 25 or 30 miles out on the Tamiami Trail there's a swerving turnoff that leads to a T-shaped strip of asphalt to nowhere. It runs parallel to the trail and about three or four city blocks in length, bordered by trees, marsh, and muck. At night especially, it's rare to encounter anyone other than the occasional snake collector or frog gigger, although possums, rabbits, and plenty of other creatures, including an occasional (extremely occasional) bobcat, come out to feed, fight, or facilitate offspring. Here, there is peace. And a stunning over-the-trees view of sunsets followed by utter darkness that allows for spectacular looks at a night sky unencumbered by the ambient light of the city. To be caught here in the middle of a thunderstorm is bliss, and when the stars put on a show (meteor showers and such), there is no better place to watch as you ponder your utter insignificance in the universe.

BEST VENUE FOR LIVE MUSIC

I/O

It's been a perennial complaint from local rockers and rockeros alike: "There's no place to play in Miami!" Well, stop your whining, because Miami is now blessed with the kind of club this city's musicians have long clamored for: a space not merely booked by passionate fans of underground sounds, but run by them as well. That kind of devotion has made I/O a prime destination for some of the nation's leading alternative-rock outfits, many now making South Florida a regular -- and long overdue -- touring spot: The Walkmen, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Cat Power, Los Amigos Invisibles, and Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra, for starters. Add in a solid P.A. run by a soundman who's more interested in fidelity than in causing deafness, free parking, and a patio to catch your breath or grab a smoke, and you have one of the brightest spots in Miami's musical renaissance.

BEST VENUE FOR LIVE MUSIC

I/O

It's been a perennial complaint from local rockers and rockeros alike: "There's no place to play in Miami!" Well, stop your whining, because Miami is now blessed with the kind of club this city's musicians have long clamored for: a space not merely booked by passionate fans of underground sounds, but run by them as well. That kind of devotion has made I/O a prime destination for some of the nation's leading alternative-rock outfits, many now making South Florida a regular -- and long overdue -- touring spot: The Walkmen, Ted Leo and the Pharmacists, Cat Power, Los Amigos Invisibles, and Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra, for starters. Add in a solid P.A. run by a soundman who's more interested in fidelity than in causing deafness, free parking, and a patio to catch your breath or grab a smoke, and you have one of the brightest spots in Miami's musical renaissance.

BEST FM RADIO PERSONALITY

The Baka Boyz

If you're one of the few hundred thousand souls who lives through the daily purgatory of sitting in morning-rush traffic, finding an entertaining distraction is a priority on your FM dial. So forget the monotone chitchat provided by National Public Radio on WLRN-FM. Since their arrival at the Beat last year, Mexican-American brothers Eric and Nick Vidal have been tearing up weekday mornings with their double-dope old-school hip-hop and funk mixes and their popular crank-call segment "Dropping Bombs," in which lucky callers get to play a practical joke on friends, family members, co-workers, even their bosses -- on the air. From their opening cue, a happy jig mixed over The Sanford & Son television show theme song, the Bakas provide their listeners a rudely comedic awakening. Their most engrossing routine: The duo offered lucky ladies free breast implants. Hordes of young women showed up at the designated spot only to receive complimentary chicken breasts injected with saline. Most morning shows are a poor man's version of Howard Stern, which the Baka Boyz easily outshine (as could a drunk parrot and two mimes). Already far beyond that in quality, the duo are setting a new standard, marking their own territory, probably to be copied soon by other morning shows.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®

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