Where The ‘Wild’ Things Are

It was a wild time this week in South Beach, Miami, as singer/songwriter Tinatin, her music producer Ayhan Sahin and videographer/film producer Chris Holmes lensed a music video for Tinatin’s remix of “Wild,” the title track from her recently released EP. Along for the ride were a bevy of hot beach boys the team picked up along the way.

The original video for "Wild," included on the physical release, was filmed in New York’s Lower East Side during the first week of February, where Tinatin filmed some scenes in a sleeveless couture gown two steps from a two-foot-high snow drift.

Obviously, that was not an issue in Miami. The one caveat: I was not there. Damnit.And the original music video for "Wild"... after the jump!

William Levy Encores People En Espanol's Most Beautiful April 28

News from William Levy World: Our favorite Latino hottie has again made the list of People En Espanol's 2011 "50 Mas Bellos," which will hit newsstands (and our mailbox) April 28. He participated in a photo shoot in Miami last week for the issue, which will also include another large pictorial of Levy—The Smoking Nun's runner up for Most Beautiful Man of 2010—and his kids. William also made People's list in 2010, 2009 and 2008.

Here are some of Levy's fellow hotties from years past:Jencarlos Canela, Eduardo Verastegui...Ricky Martin, Gabriel Soto, Shalim...Mario Lopez, Luis Fonsi...Juanes, Fernando Colunga, Alejandro Fernandez... and finally, one more look at our beloved...

Mile High Club: Up, Up And Away

After so much drama Thursday, Delta delivered meese back to NYC this morning. Up at 5:15 a.m. for a 7 o'clock flight. Kinda cool to see dawn evolve into day, with the moon on one side of the sky and the sun peaking across the other.

So long for now, Miami. It's so good to be back in New York. Yeah, let me keep repeating that...

Travel Woes... Can't Get There From Here: Making The Best Of A Bad Situation

I have a well-tread theory that if you fly to a destination without a great deal of drama, you're destined to be utterly screwed trying to get home. Once again, my mantra proved to be ominously true. But let's be honest: Wouldn't you rather get where you're going on time, stress-free, holding tight to vacation memories (for instance, temps of 79 degrees today in Miami), when you're fucked haplessly, hopelessly, striving to make it back?

To be honest, I might have brought this upon myself, wishing that my time in Miami could endure, so I wouldn't have to return to New York's wicked, ever-enduring winter. Well, I got my damn wish. At least halfway.

Wednesday night, apparently there was a dastardly fire at Miami International Airport that decimated six tanks used to refuel airplanes. Because the inferno was nowhere near the runway, news reports claimed that while numerous American flights were canceled, most other airlines were potentially delayed.

Apparently, Delta neglected to inform passengers that the fire was impacting a bunch of its outbound flights, too—naturally, the one that I was on, scheduled at 7 p.m. Thursday eve.

I didn't learn about this until 4 p.m., when I got a cheery email from Travelocity saying, "Oopsy, we've rescheduled you, buddy..." for a 4 p.m. flight. Uh, too little too late.

From there, I spent 40 minutes with a nice man named "Steve" from India, who went back and forth with Delta, finally informing me that I was being re-routed for a Friday morning flight, but had to pick up a hotel voucher at the airport. Natch, when I got to the airport, the Delta rep told me, "Uh-uh, it wasn't our fault, no voucher for you."

She was able to put me on a flight from Miami to Atlanta leaving at 7 p.m., with a connection heading to New York at 10:55 p.m. Thursday. Surprise! As soon as I got to the gate, the flight was already delayed 30 minutes.

By the time we lifted off, we were 45 minutes late and I charged, in an undignified panic to make my connection, only to see the gate door close after I had traveled 750 miles from one terminal to another to make the fucking flight.

This time, the Delta agent was more accommodating, offering a complementary hotel voucher at a Best Western near the airport, along with a meal voucher. Shuttle service to and from is also free. So here I am holed up for the night in a perfectly tidy room on the outskirts of Atlanta, making the best of a bad situation.

The most depressing part: It's 46 degrees in "Hotlanta." That's 30+ degrees colder than Miami. Meanwhile, it's 35 in New York. See, it could always be worse.

South Beach: The Seldom Seen In 33159

While all looks rosy and robust along Ocean Drive, Lincoln Road and Collins Avenue in South Beach Miami, a few steps off the tourist route reveals overt signs of the second Great Depression. The locale was one of the hardest hit in 2007.

Those hotels without vistas and views have, quite simply, closed their doors, boarded up and are in a sad state of decay.

Miami: Oh Yeah, There's A Beach, Too

During my final hours in South Beach, I realized I hadn't even taken a glance at the ocean... you know, that vast body of water that most people come to Miami for.

It was real pretty, though I looked like an uber dork in long black jeans, shoes, socks and shirt. At least I got a hint of a tan at Syl and Anton's party Wednesday. Building below is where Ayhan and I fantasize about buying our condo. Three years ago, these brand new units were in the $3 million range. Now, with the Depression ongoing in Miami, perhaps I could make a more reasonable bid... how's $200,000 sound for an oceanfront view?
Boys on the beach...
Fun, sun and sand. The first two sound appealing, anyway. Not a big fan of the latter.
More boys on the boardwalk.

South Beach Miami: Midnight March

Sigh... one last tour de force up Collins and Ocean Drive, as I prepare to leave the perfection of Miami and head back to New York's perpetual winter. I think I might cry a little.

Miami: Din Din At 'Big Pink'

I had dinner Wednesday night at a fun restaurant known as Big Pink on Collins and 2nd—one hell of a hike on foot from 18th—a gargantuan diner of sorts. Actually, Big Pig would make a better name, since the portions are enough to make one oink in ecstasy. Reviews are certainly accurate: "comfort food extravaganza and a glutton’s smorgasbord."

I had the Big Pink "TV Dinner," comprising meatloaf slathered in gravy, a baked potato with sour cream and cheddar cheese, cornbread, green beans, salad and some sort of weird cake-like desert. Oh, and don't forget the Diet Coke!Damn good thing I had that 1.8 mile walk back to the hotel. Oink!

Homes Of Miami Beach

The homes in this Miami Beach nabe, all in the million dollar-plus range, may not be the largest manses in the nation, but what they may lack in square footage, they certainly make up for in water views and an ideal climate. Perhaps they more resemble Beverly Hills than Southampton, where you pay a pretty price for constant sunshine. Sounds like a fair trade-off to meese.

And yet, as one of the hardest-hit regions by the latest Great Depression, who knows how much value these Miami estates have lost. One thing is for sure: for sale signs pervade the area, with pleas to purchase "or rent." You know that's a bad sign.Hey, I think I might be able to afford this one! Lots of "potential," huh?