The piñata
By Varela
AND A-ONE…
They say Miami is the magic city. And it’s true. The cheapest trip to Europe is provided by City Hall, not a tourist agency. The package includes two weeks touring Greece’s ruins and Paris’ rusty sites, waving an American Express card left and right. But first you must qualify as a local politician. And it’s not a vacation tour but a working mission to open doors to our battered economy, even though the missionary can’t hit the ball with his foot (a foot enveloped in a 450-euro shoe, I might add.)
Is that the reason why our backyard leaders spend a fortune to get a public post in City Hall, a job that barely pays for the electricity bill at home? It’s because, in addition to the travel perks, City Hall provides a space to slip money under the table. I always wonder why we spend money buying tables for City Hall, when business is done under them, not above them. I would put up curtains and screens, behind which the politicians could negotiate contracts, zoning laws, road tolls and no-show jobs. And since we drilled a multimillion-dollar hole in the local coffers, we Miamians live in fear that the tunnel will be poorly built because we ate up the budget and the cars will plunge to the bottom of the bay and we’ll drown.
… AND A-TWO…
Our legend talks of prosperity in the days of Maurice Ferré, but omits the fact he was the mayor during the drug boom, when every block had at least three banks and Commissioner Armando Lacasa was dubbed “Armando Sucasa.” Street-corner chat suggests a populist Xavier Suárez, a bridge to the black community, but forgets that he was suctioned by Mas Canosa and discarded as an agglutinin while his administrators allowed themselves to be bribed with a Rolex.
Our patriotic songs hail the Miriam Alonso, she of the slogan “Cubans vote for Cubans,” but do not say that she ended up in prison for mishandling campaign donations. And local political mythology do not recall that in 1997 voting booths were opened in funeral homes, that Jimmy Hoffa and Elvis Presley were among the voters, that Carollo was brought back, Suárez was dumped and Humberto Hernández was jailed.
Later, the computer era enthrones Elián’s renowned attorney Manny Díaz, but the software is erased and there’s no mention of the fact that he was the first mayor who left the post three times wealthier than when he assumed it. Just in case, Tomás Regalado – mindful of wagging tongues – is cleaning the police station. (By the way, if that ever happens in Havana, the Miami press will be talking about police conspiracies to overthrow the Cuban government.)
… AND A-THREE!
City lore is legendary, but county lore is Disney-like. Two decades ago, we created a political-economic structure that is stronger that any Central American republic, including its national soccer team. We inflated budgets and grouped cities so we could invent our own Sleeping Beauty Palace, a country within a state (Miami-Dade is in Florida). And we proceeded to install our own Mickey Mouse, the child Alex Penelas, a public accountant with metric disassociation (he’s 5 feet 7 inches tall but describes himself on his driver’s license as 5 feet 10 inches tall) and stage fright (he leaves the stage when Mandela visits the city; he registers as a Democrat yet acts like a Republican.)
Then we voters bring a magician to the House of Mirrors. Carlos Álvarez goes on stage with a feat of illusionism, dividing his friends in two before our very eyes, with second jobs and everything; charging as his advisers here and as police advisers in Panama. And the cost of travel to the isthmus is charged to the public budget (you and I, again). I might add that the salary of the abovementioned adviser – read carefully – is bigger than the salary of Rahm Emanuel, the White House personnel chief. Aren’t we the magic city?
THE PIÑATA STRINGS ARE PULLED AND THE CANDY AND OTHER GOODIES FALL TO THE GROUND, AS OUR LEADERS LEAP ON TOP OF EACH OTHER TO GRAB THEM.
Born in Cuba in 1955, José Varela was an editorial cartoonist in Miami for 15 years, on the staff of the magazine Éxito (1991-97) and El Nuevo Herald (1993-2006). He is a publicist and television writer. He is also a member of the Progreso Weekly/Semanal team.
