Our next stop is at Sunset Place, a Miamian icon of a semi-swank, open-air shopping mall complex on US-1. The purpose for our visit is two-fold. Most importantly we have arranged to make a delivery to a young man (perhaps 15 years of age) who purchased our Caribbean Discosoma spp. pack from eBay last night. We arranged to meet at 3:30pm out in front of Dan Marino’s Bar and Grill. Plastic fish bags in hand, we dodge luxury motorcars and the odd looks of stylish pedestrians as we cross lanes of traffic to make the delivery. Our man is on time and stoked for his new anthozoan friends. We learn, that at (perhaps) 15 years old he already has a 15-gallon frag tank (custom built), an octopus tank, and a tank for a single pet grouper. Alas, there is hope in the next generation. And now his aquarium officially sports:

 

Next stop, Barnes and Noble, to buy Brett Easton Ellis’ “Less than Zero”. Jared tells me that it’s required reading in order for me to understand a future installment of our Morphologic Mix Tape series, and he is rarely wrong on pertinent recommendations (So you better be downloading the previous Mix Tapes by now…).

After we make the drop off, we’re confronted by a gauntlet of clip-board havin’, signature grabbin’, money askin’ young adults. As we near, the rote parroting to other passer-bys becomes apparent. Practiced, cardboard words. We could do the typical thing: avoid eye contact, skirt a distant path, and ignore their vocal pleas for help. But having met our day’s deadlines, we are intrigued by what these half-a-dozen or so adult youths find so important to dedicate their lives to. We walk right up to them.

“So, what are you guys doing here?” we ask. He says,”Would you like to save the planet?”, oblivious to the fact that for once, someone else has initiated the spiel. “Yes”, obviously, the answer is “yes”, we want to save the planet, look at this mess we are in, does anyone honestly answer “no”? “Do you have a pamphlet or some other sort of reading material I can reference myself?”, I ask. Spare me the parroting, I can read. He gives me his whole big blue binder of material.

…Global warming…exhaust emissions…energy efficiency…

“Hey, we use power compact fluorescent bulbs in all our sockets”, I tell him honestly. He laughs a little, nervously, and then asks “What?”, thrown off guard, as if he isn’t used to genuine interaction during these more than likely uncomfortable confrontations. I repeat what I said once more, this time more slowly, and he smiles in apparent recognition.

He goes on now with a more personalized pitch, how he “used to be in the majority too”, way back before he became ‘aware’ of what was ‘really going on’.

I tell him that we don’t have any cash to offer (we spent it all on eco-friendly products) , “but don’t worry, friend, we agree with cutting down on our ecological footprint as much as possible.” He smiles, but continues on to tell me that if we don’t have cash they will also accept checking account information (no joke). He laughs again nervously, likely in recognition of how absurd and awkward a thing that is to ask a stranger on the street. He follows up with “Um, I know that that sounds weird, but it’s totally safe”. Sure, dude.

Are people really that out-of-touch around here that they would give a complete stranger their checking account information simply because they a) feel so guilty that they feel it necessary to ‘buy’ some peace-of-mind (long term investment), or b) experience panhandler’s guilt, by feeling so uncomfortable during the confrontation they ‘buy’ their freedom (short term payoff) by giving the man direct access to their bank account? Crazy.

He then segues quickly by asking us “so where’s the party tonight?”…”Um, well, if you want to hear some good local music, you might want to check out the ANR/Jean Marie show at Circa 28.” He is grinning broadly, uncomfortably, suggesting awareness of his unacceptable extension into our personal space. Then goes on to ask “Are they, like, indie rock? Hey…Do you guys like the band ‘Against Me!’?” Good grief.

Sorry to get so cynical. But if you ever want an amusing time, come on down to Sunset Place in South Miami and join in on the observations from the future. Grab a beer or martini (Beertini?) at Dan Marino’s joint, sit outside, and watch the side show.

If you were thinking that maybe the guy with the clipboard was the likely owner of that VW pop-up camper (pictured above), we’d disagree and have to say that this guy is the more probable owner.