Sure, it's across the street from our offices. But hey, we're biased, sleep-deprived journalists who would love the convenience of skipping across the street for a caramel macchiato or a soy chai latte during our midafternoon writing slump. And with all of the new condos sprouting up between Edgewater and downtown, don't we really need a Starbucks in this neighborhood? A defunct (was it ever even open?) rug shop with an orange chimney has been cluttering the corner for too long, and we're tired of trudging through Biscayne Boulevard construction zones in order to reach the nearest baristas at 69th Street. Oh, people can say what they want about the monster coffeehouse that is taking over the world, but that serene mermaid in the green circle is a sign of a lively neighborhood, and this area could use a little polish. Naysayers should know that one of the company's guiding principles is "to contribute positively to our communities and our environment," and it does so through the Starbucks Foundation, which has given more than $11 million to organizations that provide literacy programs for children and families. Now if it could slow down Miami drivers, we might survive crossing the street for our java.

The opera world's original spaghetti Western made for the season's best-realized theatrical spectacle, as the Florida Grand Opera took on Puccini's late masterpiece and unveiled sets by John Conklin that went a long way to explain why opera is called grand. Big, intelligent, and full of surprises even for the most jaded opera fans, the whole affair looked and moved at a furious gallop in a first-rate production that recalled the company's glory days and frankly let us look ahead with optimism to the move next fall to the spiffy new Miami Performing Arts Center. Like the unforgettable production of Paul Bunyan, this Fanciulla also reminded us that Florida Grand Opera's partnership with New York City Opera and Glimmerglass Opera, which among other things means taking advantage of spectacular ready-made sets, translates into good news for lovers of music theater in South Florida.

The Project, praised by everyone from Jeb Bush to Bob Graham to Bill Clinton, mentors young people and works with their families to encourage safer, healthier directions in life. Volunteers and staff collect donations of clothes, jewelry, computer items, household goods, used bikes and cars -- basically anything. Pickup can be arranged, or you can drop off items between 9:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m.

With all due respect to Looe Key, Biscayne National Park, and John Pennekamp, snorkeling holes should offer a stronger sense of adventure than the popular spots. A lack of humans is almost as rewarding as an abundance of sea life. As you travel toward Key Biscayne on the Rickenbacker, cross the bridge on the far side of the cut and then follow the shoreline away from the causeway to the farthest point out. It's not a casual stroll -- mangroves and other obstacles can get in the way -- but out here the current isn't nearly as strong as in the cut proper, and you're likely to observe sharks, barracuda, crabs, rays, angelfish, jack, trout, even the occasional, and thrilling, snook. One gorgeous spring afternoon a solo diver at the location remarked, "Hardly anybody comes out here, but it's worth the trip because you never know what you might see. One time I saw a spinner shark break water, and when I went down, I saw three nice sharks." Most gorgeous afternoons there is no one here. It's not St. Lucia or the Seychelles or Micronesia, but for local waters this place offers everything that Looe, BNP, and Pennekamp do -- everything but the crowds.

There is no tougher test for a company -- and no bigger thrill for an audience -- than the miracle that is Shakespeare. And miracles are just what this annual summer festival makes: The play's the thing, and Rafael de Acha's ensemble works with boundless generosity at the New Theatre, at its best persuading us that American English is the ideal instrument for bringing to life the Bard's glorious verbal music. This is no easy task, by the way, and perhaps chief among the many joys of this Shakespeare extravaganza is that it so seldom feels like hard work -- on either side of the footlights. De Acha, Florida's busiest man in show biz, does everything, from caressing the best out of his actors to editing the scripts with a practical eye and even composing his own music with his heart on his sleeve. Best of all, this work of love is an ongoing affair: If you missed the last one or simply didn't get enough with The Shakespeare Project's last trio of Romeo and Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, and Macbeth, plans are afoot for more Shakespeare in the summer. This is South Florida theater at its best.

Miami, they say, is constantly reinventing itself. When all that reinvention gets your head spinning, take a contemplative walk around the cloisters of this twelfth-century monastery -- the oldest structure around by a long shot. Like most things in South Florida, it's a transplant. It was originally built in Segovia, Spain, and served as a spiritual home to Cistercian monks there for almost 700 years. In 1925, William Randolph Hearst purchased the monastery and had it shipped -- block by block -- to the United States. Fate brought the disassembled building to Miami, where it was resurrected in 1952. Nowadays the monastery's pretty gardens are the backdrop for many a wedding, and its worn stone walkways give some perspective to the probable life span of that new South Beach nightclub. The Ancient Spanish Monastery is open Monday to Saturday from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. and Sundays from 2:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. Admission is $5 for adults, $2 for children under twelve, and $2.50 for seniors.

Two words: Uh huh. WMC men -- and some who are just boys, really -- are cute and smart. They are adorable, shaggy-haired DJs who wear hipster sunglasses, vintage shirts, and classic sneakers. They are intelligent and talented musicians -- basically hot geeks. Of course, they know their music (a big bonus in our book). And speaking of books ... they also read. And they watch independent and documentary films. Some are also into photography, while others do volunteer work. They aren't looking for fake boobs and spray-on tans. They want a real girl, one who gets pop-culture references, has actually read Moby Dick, and also thinks dancing to a live Sasha & Digweed set with 300 cool people, all while sailing on a private yacht, would be the best party ever. (It was the best party ever.) We know WMC (and M3 and Remix Hotel and the rest of the conference activities) comes but once a year, but you must make the most of those ten days or so. Get every pass you can, go to all the cool parties, and drink as much Red Bull as you do water. It is worth the time invested -- and the hours of sleep you will forfeit -- to have a vacation from all the dull, vacant men who prefer playing with plastic toys to engaging in an animated discussion about why you both hated the movie Crash so much. You've been wondering where they all are; we found them.

A tender-voiced woman with snow-white locks, Raquel Regalado looks like she belongs on the cover of a grandmotherly greeting card. But don't let her geriatric appearance fool you. She is the tenacious, sharp radio show host of Lo Que Otros No Dicen, a title that literally means "what others won't say." That's Regalado's way of letting her audience know that no subject is off-limits on her morning program. Monday through Friday, beginning at 10:00 a.m., on 670 AM La Poderosa, Regalado tackles the social ills afflicting the Magic City -- from the poor condition of public housing for the elderly to the arrogant indifference of Miami's elected leaders.

In this stimulating series of readings, Florida International University alumni and creative writing students read their work to an audience often underserved in South Florida -- those still interested in language. The readings can be hit-or-miss, with prose that is sometimes blowzy, sometimes brilliant, but they feature luminaries such as The Nation's Victor Navasky, poet Ray Gonzalez, and short-story writer Kelly Cherry. These dynamic writers stop in at locations all over town and are gaining a following. If you like your women literate and community-minded, you just might find Ms. Perfect here.
http://w3.fiu.edu/CRWRITING/Writers%20on%20the%20Bay%202005<\m>2006.htm

Mike Inglis is the opposite of a homer. Unlike his TV counterpart, the unctuous Eric Reid, Inglis calls it like he sees it -- through a half-empty glass, pessimistically. His stoic sidekick, former Heat guard John Crotty, is often left to pick up the pieces after Inglis drops a despairing on-air monologue: "I don't know about you, John, but as glad as I am that the Heat are up by 30 going into the half, I can just feel disaster coming if these guys don't start making their free throws. Maybe not now, but soon. It's just pathetic to watch these guys at the line." (It's not all doom and gloom, though -- Dwyane Wade's acrobatics often have Inglis rejoicing.) Miami Herald sports columnist and 790 AM sports talk host Dan LeBatard is an Inglis fan. "I want truth undistilled, even if I don't like what I'm hearing, instead of sugar-coated crud from propagandists who don't utter a syllable without remembering who pays them for said syllable," LeBatard rants in an e-mail about Inglis. "I don't want to be lied to by people paid to pull out the peppy pompoms."