Merriam-Webster defines the word "bloodline" as "a sequence of direct ancestors especially in a pedigree." But for fans of the Netflix series Bloodline, that word means something slightly different. The show follows the Rayburns, a working-class family in the Keys with plenty of secrets. The series is best described as a cinematic roller coaster. It ticks, ticks, ticks you up gently — getting your adrenaline rushing — and just when you think it's safe to breathe, here comes the plunge. Aside from the episodic thrills, the best part about this series is that it's filmed locally. Three cheers for those Florida film incentives. The shots of rustling trees and sandy beaches are enough to make you want to spend a weekend in the Keys with the Rayburns. The first season was uploaded onto the streaming platform in spring 2015, and Season 2 became available this past May. Although it might be too soon to judge if Netflix will produce a third season of the drama, fans are hopeful.

Jon "Stugotz" Weiner of The Dan Le Batard Show With Stugotz is an Everyman's man. He is red-faced, white-knuckled, emotional, unapologetically cocky, cliché-driven, and transparently childish. As his cohost Dan Le Batard routinely says, sports is akin to the toy department, so why can't we act like kids? Stugotz gets us. He is us. He represents us, even the bad parts of us. He goes to work hung-over. He barely listens to what anyone says. He complains. He brags. He's a seesaw of emotions bound to be scooped up by a tornado and thrown to the other side of an argument without a moment's notice. Stugotz is the who we would be on sports radio if we had the talent to be on sports radio. Not all superheroes wear capes. Some are sports radio hosts wearing unlaundered shirts. Stugotz is the sports radio man South Florida deserves.

Readers' choice: Dan Le Batard

Waking up in the morning and dragging our tired butts to work isn't always easy, but we do it. We wake up at same time every day. We take the same route to work. We stop at the same coffee place. And we listen to the same radio station during all of this. Morning FM radio hosts are like a part of our family. They matter because they make our day easier — and that's what makes Evelyn Curry and the Lite 101.5 FM crew our favorites. There's light-hearted, not-too-serious fun mixed with music that's work-safe but not exactly elevator music. Curry and her crew are easy on the ears and distract us from the clock at work just enough to almost be disappointed when it's time for their show to finish. We say "almost," because the closing of the show also means we are closer to the end of the workday. Curry's friendly stories and segments make us happy we listen and keep us coming back every morning.

Readers' choice: DJ Laz

When Univision Radio announced last year that it would relocate its studios from Coral Gables to Doral, longtime radio host Bernadette Pardo joked that she would have to ditch her bicycle for a car to get to work. The host of Pedaleando con Bernie (Pedaling With Bernie), Pardo's 7-to-9 a.m. drive-time show, doesn't actually ride on two wheels during her morning radio program, but she uses the bicycle as a metaphor, often commenting that she's pedaling with her guests. The Cuban-born host has worked as a journalist for some 30 years, receiving more than 100 awards and reporting from across the Americas and Europe. Pardo adds a calm, level-headed voice to Miami's morning-radio dial.

Depending upon the day, he might be a curmudgeonly old Jewish man, a community college math professor from Sri Lanka, a quirky TV astrologer, or a chonga. Underneath the wigs and the accents, Freddy Stebbins is arguably Miami's best-loved and most creative comedian, known for the more than 100 characters he takes to the stage with hilarious results. His characters parody every stereotype in Miami, and they emerge from Stebbins' deep fascination with the Magic City's diversity and quirkiness. "I love the whole Miami thing," he says. "This place is fascinating and full of material." Growing up here, Stebbins says, he became popular by doing funny accents. He trained for five years in L.A. at the Groundlings improv school and then returned home to Miami. During the day, he's a social science professor at Miami Dade College's Wolfson Campus, where he teaches a mix of sociology, government, civics, and anthropology — often in character. His classes are among the most popular on campus. For seven years, he hosted a beloved Thursday-night standup show at John Martin's Irish Pub & Restaurant in Coral Gables. Two years ago, the show moved to Taurus in Coconut Grove, where it routinely attracts Miami's best comics. You've also heard him on Miami's home-grown radio station, Shake 108, where he voices station tags and commercials (in character). "We can't live here if we don't make fun of this wild, crazy basket case of a community we live in," he says.

It took us a while to figure out that Athena Dion was suddenly dominating South Florida's drag scene. The reason: She can look different every time she appears. There she was during last year's Miami Beach Pride celebration, when she sashayed down the runway like a supermodel in a show thrown by L.A. fashion label Marco Marco. In February, she made the perfect Posh Spice stand-in as part of a Spice Girls tribute act assembled for Mel B's visit to Sugar Factory. At a recent edition of the Lab, the Friday-night party she hosts at Score, she was dressed in her best Wednesday Addams cosplay. Other times, her look ranges from Latina diva to steal-your-man to crazy club kid. Whatever the look, most times she appears every bit the goddess her name suggests. But once you learn how to spot her, you'll notice her everywhere. From ads for the Miami Beach LGBT Visitors Center, to stomping the pavement in front of Palace, to delivering brunch shows at Señor Frog's, there she is. Catch her if you can.

Readers' choice: Elaine Lancaster

Oftentimes, love doesn't make any sense — neurologically, psychologically, or emotionally. In a bold and mesmerizing production of Stephen Sondheim's contrapuntal Passion, Zoetic Stage offered an interpretation of love that was irrational, unpredictable, even implausible. The company rendered it beautifully. In the elliptical story, Giorgio (Nicholas Richberg), a military captain in 19th-century Europe, is set to wed a gorgeous aristocrat until he is transferred to a provincial outpost. There, he is gradually ensnared by Fosca (Jeni Hacker), the sickly, clingy sister of a fellow soldier. Resisting Fosca's advances until her adoration becomes all-encompassing, Richberg effortlessly navigated his character's unorthodox transition from revulsion to infatuation. Hacker delivered her best work in years, tapping into reservoirs of melancholy that humanized her Machiavellian character. Director Stuart Meltzer's ambitious staging, which included a central rotating platform and a three-tiered set, captured the agony and ecstasy of Sondheim's vision while studding it with occasional black humor. Ellis Tillman's resplendent costumes and Caryl Fantel's sublime musical direction of Sondheim's haunting score complemented a production that will be a benchmark for years.

How exactly does one dramatize a theoretical concept such as the multiverse? It's easy if you're Morgan Freeman with a giant network budget, but for a playwright limited to two actors, a stage, a lighting bank, and sound cues, going beyond the wormhole takes a Big Bang of ingenuity. GableStage audiences received one thanks to director Joseph Adler's stimulating production of Nick Payne's Constellations, a play about a working-class beekeeper (Antonio Amadeo) and an Ivy League physics professor (Katherine Amadeo) who meet at a party. And meet again. And meet once more. And live together — or maybe they don't — and suffer terminal illness and corrosive breakups. Or maybe they don't. Like a dealer shuffling a card deck of infinite possibilities, Adler transitioned his pliable actors through multiple probabilities, shifting consciousness at a moment's notice. Katherine and Antonio Amadeo, married offstage and eternally conjoined in Payne's quantum drama, provided a master class in the subtlety of performance, fully inhabiting all 50 or so shades of reality — even if many didn't last longer than a Vine video. It should have been enough to make Einstein and Sanford Meisner alike smile from the great beyond.

Peter Sinn Nachtrieb's Boom is a comedy that tells the story of a straightforward journalism student and an awkward marine biologist whose uncomfortable attempt at casual sex ends up saving their lives. But it also leaves the fate of humanity in their hands (and reproductive organs). The play has been interpreted across the nation to positive reviews, but director Oleg Kheyfets was determined to make this iteration a lively snapshot of present-day Miami. So the Basement Project, a new theater company run by Kheyfets, produced and presented Boom this past January 7 through 23. Aiding the company were local disco-funk favorite Afrobeta, which composed and performed the funky and mysterious soundtrack. The band's vocalist, Cuci Amador, also starred as Barbara,Boom's guiding voice from the future. She explained to the audience how civilization persevered and became an underwater society. In many ways, this is Barbara's story. If this were a Greek tragedy, Barbara would be our chorus, directing us through the various levels of disaster the characters face.

The resident company at the Arsht Center's Carnival Studio Theater cemented its regional dominance this season. With a slate of just three shows, director Stuart Meltzer made each one count, excelling in works that included an edgy world premiere by a South Florida playwright, a brainy rom-com about feminism, and a chamber musical by a national treasure. Meltzer imbued the shows with distinct directorial flourishes. There were jazzed-up, staccato courtroom deliberations in Stripped and an intoxicating moving platform and a gender-bending supporting cast in Passion. The designs for each show reimagined the carnival space, from a blind Lady Justice towering behind the quarreling mortals in Stripped to the ladders of opportunity dangling existentially above the manicured homes in Rapture, Blister, Burn. Then there was the multitiered birthday cake of a set in Passion, reflecting the show's multiple layers. Exceptional acting from a stable of the region's finest professionals made it all look easy, and the well-curated mix of shows ensured that audiences always had plenty to discuss on the car ride home.

Readers' choice: Adrienne Arsht Center for the Performing Arts