The Death of Wynwood

For a while now, I have been thinking that the end is near. Since there is no such profession as an actual “future of the neighborhood” fact checker, the question remains -- Is the end of Wynwood near? Let’s say a little perspective is in order.

First, it is entirely fair dinkum to assume that some of our reading population does not know what I’m talking about. If you have a decent relationship with your college aged children and they have tats, piercings, or an inclination to speak of craft beer, GMO’s, or baristas, you are aware of the district near Midtown where Art Basel spinoffs and graffiti artists began digging in about a dozen years ago thanks to a desire, a need, and a beloved pioneer named Tony Goldman. If you have never visited Wynwood, perhaps this analogy will do.

Remember the time before Ocean Drive was reborn. Art Deco structures populated a mostly decrepit, neglected stretch of what would become really valuable real estate between South 5th and South 15th on South Beach. Like a phoenix, it became grand in a short time after having fallen into Scarface disrepair. On the other hand, today, it is a desperate, immature, ugly 20 something visited by most of us only when our least sophisticated relatives make that once in a lifetime visit to South Florida and want to visit the Clevelander.

Illustration two is Lincoln Road, still pleasant though no one I know goes there very much any more because it’s too crowded. (Thank Groucho Marx for the joke) With the recent opening of European mass market God H&M, the transformation is virtually complete and fully corporatized. If you are a small business, I’ve got two words for you -- side streets -- because as former New York mayoral candidate Jimmy McMillan squealed, “The Rent is Too Damn High.”

So while I am certainly ahead of myself, simultaneously, I am not. Adjacent to Wynwood, the Design District has added Louis Vuitton, Cartier, Dior, and Prada. Hello Design District. Goodbye Bal Harbor. (and its claustrophobia) Target lives alongside Loehmann’s, Supercuts, Foot Locker, and Subway in midtown Miami, also next to Wynwood, so can you hear the clock ticking yet? Hipsters, artists, and franchises do not mix!

I am not complaining as it is inevitable for change to occur, but the folks who were first to the dance -- those with bikes and spray cans, will soon be stopped by the new bouncer they used to tag walls with. That said, Wynwood is entering its next transformation, and expect the avalanche to occur much more quickly than you think. Food trucks and their generators quickly wear out their welcome when NW 2nd Avenue is bumper to bumper and the masses prefer t-shirts to canvases.

When this occurs, some will be disappointed, but fret not; the transformation will continue elsewhere. Till then, though you might want to check out Model City or Little Haiti, my money is on whether anyone can spell Allapattah?

Critical Mass Miami

The intersection of many of my favorite things occurs during the last Friday of the month’s Critical Mass. There may be no raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens, but there are a few thousand people, a couple of hours of exercise, fleeting neighborhood visitations, and a number of baddass bikes to accompany the newly restored clunker some may have taken to Andres at the Miami Recycle Bicycle Shop or the good folks at the Magic City Bicycle Collective. 

photo from Jordan Melnick/beachedmiami.com

Every month. the word filters out to more folks looking to get in touch with their inner -- I don’t know -- hipster? The assembly begins shortly after 6:30 at the Metrorail’s Government Center. By the time the ride begins at 7:15, the entire block is festively thronged by colorful participants -- as Q-Tip might say, a vivrant thing. 

To channel another musical theme, in Miami, the Creator has a master plan and it includes bikes. While Miami isn’t Amsterdam, it’s safe to say that there are a fair number of aspiring originators, devisers, inventors, and masterminds adorning wheels with aplomb. Some of these skills extend to rolling sound systems; lots of people like to ride near one of the folks blasting reggae. Another rocks the 80’s. There is a Chinese Jamaican guy with his toddler on the bike seat pumping out straight, parental sticker hip-hop. As I said, it’s a colorful crowd.

The routes change monthly, but there are recurring motifs. From Government Center, everyone goes west, under 95, then over the Miami River. For those of you who like amusement parks and NASCAR crashes, this is the most thrilling part of the route. If you survive this, chances are, the only impending worry newcomers may have is some diaper rash. 

Then, one just pedals through the neighborhoods most have only encountered on the exploitative local newscasts at 11 -- East Little Havana, Overtown, Allapattah, Model City, Little Haiti, and Beverly Terrace. There, the masses outside the public housing, hair salons and fritangas come out to greet you. “Welcome to the hood,” one grandmother shouted last month. Of course, Calle Ocho, Miracle Mile, Brickell, and Biscayne also appear. Here, everyone in high heels seems to be using the iphone to record a video. Corkers politely block the intersections and make apologetic conversation. They are firm and respectful. Occasionally, a driver gets bold -- for a loud, angry moment at least. After a swarm of outraged bicyclists surround him, there is usually peace in numbers. 

From beginning to end, month after month, what one experiences on the ride is the art of the street. Critical Mass gauges the pulse of a city through a mass determined to enjoy the street, to share the street, to breathe the street, and to feel the neighborhoods that explain the streets. For thousands of people who dream of an urban-connected Miami, this is their favorite two hours of the month.

Critical Mass Miami May 2012

It must have been a year ago when I went on Miami Bike Scene's site and learned a bit about Critical Mass after Teo Castellanos told me about it. They were having something called a bike prom, and a few hundred people got dressed up in "prom clothing" and pedaled around Miami through Brickell with a sound system pumping out the finest 80's music.

Last month, on the final Friday of April, nearly 2000 people rode through Little Havana, Coral Gables, Brickell, and downtown on Critical Mass's latest ride. Tonight, weather permitting, the freaks will come out again, and ride through Little Havana, Allapattah, Wynwood, Midtown, Design District, Buena Vista, Little Haiti, Upper East Side, Edgewater, Omni, and Downtown.

Mostly everyone loves Critical Mass, despite a few outliers who can't control their testosterone -- usually males between 15-40. They unconsciously ride against the grain, hop curbs, seek confrontations, and find one every so often. The other 98% just ride, hoot, holler, and laugh. Drivers of the cars inconvenienced by this monthly event generally suck it up, with a few -- usually males between 15-50 -- attempting to bulldoze whatever is in their way. One against a hundred, even with superior weaponry like a car, is against all odds.