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.

There was intense competition for this award, with many perennials in the running. But this year the title goes to a newcomer. Thanks to ever-increasing development along Coral Reef Drive west of Metrozoo, this contender came on strong. Add to the rapidly growing number of vehicles a couple of seemingly unnecessary stoplights and totally inadequate turn lanes that back up traffic and you've got a quarter-mile stretch of road that takes a good half-hour to navigate on weekday mornings and afternoons. Congratulations, Clusterfuck Junction. Now let's see if you can keep it up for another year.

There was intense competition for this award, with many perennials in the running. But this year the title goes to a newcomer. Thanks to ever-increasing development along Coral Reef Drive west of Metrozoo, this contender came on strong. Add to the rapidly growing number of vehicles a couple of seemingly unnecessary stoplights and totally inadequate turn lanes that back up traffic and you've got a quarter-mile stretch of road that takes a good half-hour to navigate on weekday mornings and afternoons. Congratulations, Clusterfuck Junction. Now let's see if you can keep it up for another year.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoon, after you've finished a full day of terrorizing everyone in your office or shop, you don't have to hate yourself. Sure, you've made your secretary's job a living hell, you've tormented your codependent girlfriend, you've sadistically tortured your wife. Radio host Jacqueline Hazel has a place for you in her heart. In her afternoon broadcast, The Forgiveness Forecast, Hazel touts the power of saying "sorry." Listen to Hazel on your drive home and you'll feel redeemed and ready to face that deep, dark truthful mirror above your bathroom sink. You'll regain the strength to continue the next day doing the awful things you do. And then apologize for. Nice way to beat the system, Hazel. Seriously, it's like Catholicism. Do whatever the hell you want, just make sure you get yourself absolved. And what better way to make amends than to apologize. After you finish listening to this uplifting show.

For a city that's relatively young, geographically challenged, and sitting at sea level, Miami should be grateful to have even one dignified place to bury its dead. It does. This is the only cemetery with the age and landscaping and, most important, notable permanent residents to make it worth visiting just to visit. And on those terms, this landmark delivers in a big way. Fat old oaks and floppy palms mix with bright bougainvillea and about a dozen other types of trees to provide shade and beauty to the burial ground, which dates from 1897, one year after Miami declared itself a city. Civic pioneer Julia Tuttle may be the most famous of the interred, but there are many other personages who played important roles in Miami's history. The fascination and revelation, though, comes in seeing how the cemetery was divided into sections for "colored," Jewish, and "other" (white) people, then trying to imagine how these folks lived together back in their time. The city's first and greatest cemetery is a moving place to visit, but note the access times. The imposing arched gate is open from 7:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. on weekdays and 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. on weekends. Check it out while you still can.

Miami City Cemetery
For a city that's relatively young, geographically challenged, and sitting at sea level, Miami should be grateful to have even one dignified place to bury its dead. It does. This is the only cemetery with the age and landscaping and, most important, notable permanent residents to make it worth visiting just to visit. And on those terms, this landmark delivers in a big way. Fat old oaks and floppy palms mix with bright bougainvillea and about a dozen other types of trees to provide shade and beauty to the burial ground, which dates from 1897, one year after Miami declared itself a city. Civic pioneer Julia Tuttle may be the most famous of the interred, but there are many other personages who played important roles in Miami's history. The fascination and revelation, though, comes in seeing how the cemetery was divided into sections for "colored," Jewish, and "other" (white) people, then trying to imagine how these folks lived together back in their time. The city's first and greatest cemetery is a moving place to visit, but note the access times. The imposing arched gate is open from 7:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. on weekdays and 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. on weekends. Check it out while you still can.

This past November the Miami City Commission passed a vaguely worded, overreaching bit of paranoid legislation that was an embarrassment. Worried about protesters arriving for the Free Trade Area of the Americas summit, the commission, at the police department's urging, passed a law that would make it a crime to possess a variety of innocuous items. They tried to be specific at first -- marbles, water balloons, stilts -- but then they just gave up and stated: "No person may carry or possess ... any materials or substances or pieces of hard materials or substances that are capable of being thrown or projected." Originally the city hall brain trust wanted to have the law apply to a single event of specific duration, but that effort was thwarted when someone pointed out the obvious: It was unconstitutional. So commissioners made it applicable 24-7. King Mango Strut, Miami Book Fair International, you name it -- all were subject to the same Draconian prohibitions. It was a stupid law, they were told it was a stupid law, and eventually they agreed it was stupid. Three months after enacting it, city commissioners repealed it.

This past November the Miami City Commission passed a vaguely worded, overreaching bit of paranoid legislation that was an embarrassment. Worried about protesters arriving for the Free Trade Area of the Americas summit, the commission, at the police department's urging, passed a law that would make it a crime to possess a variety of innocuous items. They tried to be specific at first -- marbles, water balloons, stilts -- but then they just gave up and stated: "No person may carry or possess ... any materials or substances or pieces of hard materials or substances that are capable of being thrown or projected." Originally the city hall brain trust wanted to have the law apply to a single event of specific duration, but that effort was thwarted when someone pointed out the obvious: It was unconstitutional. So commissioners made it applicable 24-7. King Mango Strut, Miami Book Fair International, you name it -- all were subject to the same Draconian prohibitions. It was a stupid law, they were told it was a stupid law, and eventually they agreed it was stupid. Three months after enacting it, city commissioners repealed it.

Actually, make that personalities. With their El Vacilón de la Mañana show on El Zol, these two get away with stuff Howard Stern types can only dream about. Maybe no one at the FCC speaks Spanish. Despite the recent brouhaha over indecency, anybody who regularly listens to radio knows the real shock jocks are celebrated on the seemingly unregulated Hispanic stations. Enrique Santos and Joe Ferrero are rated highest among young listeners in Miami, but what makes them really worthy of accolades is their campaign to humiliate world leaders of local interest. In the past months they've managed to place prank phone calls to Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez and Cuban leader Fidel Castro, and they just barely missed snagging Jean-Bertrand Aristide, who was gone when their call was taken by an unamused secretary to the former Haitian president. Beats the hell out of some has-been New Yawker using airtime to humiliate lesbian stripper amputees.

The body contorts.

Masters of forms undefined,

Divine and unmatched.

Best Of Miami®

Best Of Miami®