It’s gotten so bad down on South Beach while the Urban Beach Weekers are in town that South Floridians, of all races, remind each other not to go south past Surfside until the “Urban Beach Week” is over because it is one god-awful hell zone.
I know if I owned property and/or lived on SoBe I would be raising utter Cain with my city officials for allowing this kind of madness in my neighborhood on a yearly basis. I have several friends who live between 5th and 64th & Collins, and they get the hell out of Dodge each year when this invasive group blows into town. More than a few of my friends put up their hurricane shutters before leaving their homes in anticipation of the carnage this week historically brings.
That, my friends, is a problem when you have to leave your digs, board up your property and hide your vehicles because a particular crowd is coming to town that necessitates such precautions. What’s up with that? That’s BS no matter how you slice it.
And if you think I’m alone in loathing that which this pillaging element regularly unleashes on our beautiful city, you’re nuts. Gay activist Herb Sosa especially despises it. The vast majority of people who give a damn about Dade County and our gorgeous beaches hate Urban Beach Week. Yep, I said it. They hate it … especially those who live in the condos and mansions along South Beach.
Why do they detest UBW? Well, it’s because of things like the insane 24-hour noise, the tons of trash on the streets and beaches, the increase in security that is reminiscent of Fallujah in 2004, and the radical spike in crime and arrests (including the ubiquitous vandalism of cars and homes).
This past weekend the Urban Beach people hit their nadir: They turned South Beach, America’s Riviera, into a war zone. Collins Avenue on Memorial Day was indeed memorable but in a tawdry, satanic sense as the Urban Beach Weekers made our Cosmopolitan playground look more like Cairo, complete with attempted cop killing. Yes, during this year’s festivities the Urban Beach Weekers trashed the historic Art Deco streets, screamed, yelled and blasted music 24/7, and then, of course, there’s the attempted murder of our local police. Yep, one of the “tourists” tried to run over several cops with his vehicle and then shot at them, at which point a gunfight ensued between one of these winners and Miami’s cops that made anything John Yoo has produced look lame.
Call me a racist, a gringo, honkey, cracker, or whatever. But at the end of the day if Edgar and Johnny Winter, the von Trapps or the lost white tribe from Whiteyville (that listens to Pat Boone and only Pat Boone) came to my city year after year and screwed it up, as much as I love my Caucasian brethren, I would do everything in my power to bounce them away from my house. As in, for good.
Doug Giles
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