There's no better place to be on a late Sunday afternoon than Zeke's on Lincoln Road. $3 beers and choice people watching as the temp drops to a cool 89 degrees - it's one of the very few redeemable qualities of the Road left. Now, I wasn't around (or old enough) to experience the strip when it was a seedy bohemian enclave, where acoustic guitarists and dreadlocked artists let their creativity flow freely and rent was like $5 a month. But I'm sure if I had been, I would've complained about all the dirty hippies and wished out loud for a place to get gelato. In a perfect 2008 world, I would be able to grab a scoop of hazelnut at Parmalat after a screening at the art house cinema that serves boutique beers and tapas with fancy cheese.
I'm getting somewhere with this, really. So back to Zeke's. After cursing not so much under my breath while passing the "coming soon" Guess store (in the former Cafeteria space), I settled in with friends and brews. The usual women dressed in mesh and other fabrics found on the clearance rack at Wet Seal, the guy on the bike with the pet rooster and assorted tea cup dogs strolled (or rolled) by. Then, a crowd started to form around the sidewalk. Was it the radio-toting Richard Simmons dancing machine? Or just a random crazy? Neither! Some young folks had simply laid down - some face down, some on top of each other - on the concrete, pretending to sleep or play dead, not sure which. At first I thought maybe it was some kind of activist group (were they about to chuck fake blood on the next woman who walked by in snakeskin stilettos?), then I noticed someone videotaping and thought maybe they were filming one of those annoying Truth commercials ("tobacco kills more people than a Romero Britto painting!").
Finally, my curiosity was satisfied (sort of) when one of the sleepers bolted upright and started singing "And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going" from Dreamgirls. Then they all shifted positions - one participant straddling another, to the delight of the table next to us ("ride 'em, girl!" they cheered) -- got up and moved on. A security guard on a bike stopped but just stared, not really knowing what the protocol was for group sidewalk sleeping/show tune singing. I'm going to guess it was a bunch of artsy New World high school kids doing their end-of-the-year project. Granted, performance art isn't my cup of oolong tea (I like my singing on a stage and my art in a gallery), but kudos to these Rent castmembers-in-training for bringing a little of that old-school artsy fartsy back to LR. Take that paper hat-wearing, "Hand Jive"-singing Johnny Rockets waiters. Rent may be more a month than the GNP of Guam, but the sidewalks are still free. So come one, come all, you dirty hippies - but only if you entertain me (something from Hairspray, perhaps) -- and don't block the door to Parmalat.
-- miaeditor
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What you said
I love the beet at Zeke's...I enjoy traveling around the world due to a cold brew from somewhere out there that only cost me $3. The Lincoln Road entertainers are ok...some better than others, and that's just fine. I love it that Miami offers people the chance to let loose and be artsy anywhere they wish. Ah...freedom.... Read more
