When We Were Young

We're always trying to find ways to, as my publisher Bernie calls it, "young up" the magazine. Though it's been some time since we've taken an official demographic survey, I can guarantee the base of our readers is around 45-65 years old. While we're grateful to have that crowd, I figure why not bring in a younger breed of readers to our mags?

The idea to "young things up" was met with small opposition. I spoke with George Bolge, the indelibly candid and loquacious leader of the Boca Raton Museum of Art. In short, Bolge gave me his honest, earnest opinion: "Anyone under the age of 65 doesn't have a vested interested in our cities." In his views, young people are more geared toward social affairs and getting their pictures in magazines (i.e., our magazines) and hobnobbing with their friends.

Bolge says until you've spent decades in a city and really have a vested interest in it as you've witnessed the ups and downs, there's no way a person could truly feel an inner capital to move it forward.

Being a person under the age of 65, it was difficult for me to hear Bolge's words. I can't stress how utterly affable he was to speak with, and I never took anything he said personally. It was the way he viewed the world. I know when I'm his age, I'll see things differently than I do now. And, I can't argue there are definitely a few people under the age of 65 who elicit the same characteristics Bolge mentioned.

But I'm looking to change Bolge and everyone else's views of young professionals.

Hence, the upcoming November issue articles, "Youngstown" in Gold Coast and "The 40 Under 40" in Boca Life. Here's a visual preview to the articles:

For "Youngstown," we worked with photographer Josh Ritchie, a young professional himself.

For "The 40 Under 40," we worked with photographer Jason Nuttle, another young professional.

My Meeting With The Man, Huizenga Himself

Breaking news: Wayne Huizenga uses an iPhone.

Yes, the man himself, the owner of half of South Florida, the founder of Blockbuster, the former majority owner of the Miami Dolphins, Florida Panthers and Florida Marlins, prefers the iPhone as opposed to the Blackberry or Droid. As he says, "I'm trying to get my wife to switch from the Blackberry to an iPhone, but you know how that stuff goes."

So how do I know this? I asked the man himself. Our magazine had a chance to interview and snap some photos of him this past Thursday. The venue was the Fort Lauderdale History Center, right off the New River. The full article, written by our publisher Bernie McCormick, will be in our October issue, but here are some snapshots of my take of it:

• He came dressed in a beautiful navy suit, complete with a Miami Dolphins pin attached to his left lapel.
• The man couldn't have been more affable, more down-to-earth than anyone else I've met. He was funny, animated and personable. Sure, his words were more cautious due to his high profile, but he had such an easy way about him. He even asked our photographer, Josh Ritchie, if he could help pack up Josh's photo equipment. Now how's that for down-to-earth?
• He likes diet Coke. When asked what drink he wanted to sip on during our interview, the man himself requested a diet.
• He looks you right in the eye when he talks. Even with little ol' me, Mr. Huizenga gave me the kindness and honor of talking with me, not at me. He listened when I had two cents to give and responded to everything I said.
• Currently, he's 72 years old, NOT 73. Two hours earlier, when I asked my publisher Bernie how old Mr. Huizenga was, Bernie confidently said 73. Foolishly, I actually listened to Bernie, and during the interview I said to Huizenga: "So, Mr. Huizenga, being 73 years old, do you have any plans to retire?" Ummm, yeah, I was quickly corrected.

Overall, I had a blast with Mr. Huizenga. The two hours our magazine team had with him were awesome, and it was nice to discover how such a powerful man can be so grounded. Now if I can just discover how to do business like him...

Cheers to us

My publisher, Bernie, asked me to write about our company's recent successes. In his words, "it's a little tacky" if he writes about it. That's because Bernie himself earned us top honors at the annual Florida Magazine Association awards ceremony this past weekend in Orlando. Yep, the man who I continually poke fun of, the man who pronounces the word "water" like "wroa-ter," the writer himself won us a Charlie Award for his January 2010 portrait on boxing promoter Don King.

For those who don't know, the FMA award is like getting a regional Oscar Award. Magazines from all over Florida are judged against each other. Beyond that, there's amazing seminars and continuing education programs to better equipped us aging journalists.

I attended the Charlie Award ceremony in Bernie's place (admittedly, the only reasons Bernie leaves town is if its name ends in "McCormick," "Notre Dame" or "La Salle"). Happily, I accepted this award on Bernie's behalf. There, the announcers noted Bernie's Don King piece "was a terrific, well-captured portrait" of the extravagant promoter himself.

Photo of Don King by David Martin-Warr

And the best part of it all? Unbeknownst to anyone other than Bernie, his wife Peggy and me, the last line of the Don King story never made it to print. For whatever reason, Bernie's final line -- the best line in the entire story, I contest -- was missing from the final document we sent to the printer. Even with that subtraction, we got off the hook pretty easily as the story wrapped itself up nicely.

More happily, I accepted three other awards for our entire magazine company that same ceremony. For nearly three years now, I've been working with a fantastic young photojournalist named Edward Linsmier. He helped nab us two more awards with his portrait of underwater photographer Chris Leidy and his brilliant black-and-white shots of Haiti after its devastating earthquake.

Portrait of underwater photographer Chris Leidy by Edward Linsmier

Like a proud mother, I'm even happier to announce our fourth and final award, Best Department. Stuart Magazine earned an amazing honor for its front-of-the-book section, Power of 10. A lot of work goes into this monthly department page, with all the credit going toward our associate editor and photographer.

As for Bernie, I know him well enough to see he's outwardly trying to remain nonchalant about these accolades. "I don't put too much [thought] into these awards," Bernie shrugs. But deep down, I know he's pretty proud of himself. Undoubtedly he's already told his entire family, even those in Ireland, about the four-day-old awards.

But I know where he's coming from. As creative people, where everything is subjective, it's always gratifying to hear some validation that you're doing a good job. And because it's all subjective, we have to take each kind award with a grain of salt. A different panel of judges, a different result.

But we're going to savor this moment for a bit. After all the profanity-laced reader feedback we've received this past season, soaking in this moment sounds good to me. As the Irish say, mazel tov.

Food From the Homeland

Let's get something out in the open: I'm Asian.

Because of that factoid, I've been reamed by other Asians for my dislike of oriental food. In my defense, I don't like rice. Yes, I'm an Asian-American, and I don't like rice.

My disinclination to eating Asian food is the equivalent of an Italian-American not liking pasta or pizza; of a Greek-American abstaining from olives; of a Jewish-American refusing Matzo ball during Seder. Conversely, I have "real" Asian friends who eat rice with every single meal of the day. My Filipino friends eat it with their breakfast, mixing rice with their eggs.

My own race has banished me. I've become an outcast to my own people, rejected for refusing to consume the elixir of life: white rice. Sometimes my parents don't even acknowledge our kinship in public, especially in the Asian markets.

But finally I've found an incredible Asian restaurant that rocks my boat as much as an Angus burger does. Last Friday my boyfriend and I consumed copious amounts of Japanese-inspired cuisine at Toyko Blue, right on the Atlantic on Galt Ocean Mile. Opening its doors on July 17, Toyko Blue has become my key to unlock the delights of Asian cuisine.

We received a major sampling of its finest dishes, along with unique drinks from its bar. Here's my ode to Toyko Blue:

The Top 3 Reasons Toyko Blue Left An Impression With Me

1. The Miso-Glazed Black Cod

The dish was silky smooth, like fois gras in flavor and texture.

2. Chef Mai

Formerly of Nobu, Chef Mai brings his Japanese, Thai and Peruvian (yes, Peruvian) flavors to the kitchen. A must is the Pad Thai... Thai, yes, but with a kick of Peruvian spice. Chef Mai came to our table, personally handing us his creations. He didn't say a word, but you somehow still got the feeling this was the master behind the meal.

Chef Mai is on the right of the photo, next to Michael Irvin (center) and owner Frank Talerico

3. The Ultralounge

Tokyo Blue is not only a restaurant, but it's also an "ultralounge." Sectioned off to the west of the space is a lounge area with an incredible drink menu. If you get one drink at Toyko Blue, it must be the lychee martini. If you get two, then ask for the Tokyo Blue martini.

My Conversation With A Queen Bee

I interviewed a pretty interesting subject yesterday. In my line of work, I usually find the most memorable subjects to be the worker bees -- those who do the grunt work to execute an idea. You know, not the head honcho of a pharmaceutical company, but the lowly researcher and scientist. I find I can relate to these worker bees, that I can tell a story from their perspective. After all, "grunt work" is my middle name. But, yesterday I interviewed a Queen Bee. 

The super-talented photographer Josh Ritchie and I met with Nancy Brinker yesterday at a suite facing the Atlantic Ocean on the 34th floor of the Westin Diplomat hotel. For those who don't know, Brinker is, simply put, a baller. She's the founder and CEO of the Susan G. Komen For the Cure, a former U.S. ambassador to Hungary, and one of TIME magazine's 100 most influential people in the world in 2008. She is to humanitarianism what LeBron James is to basketball.

To illustrate the gravity of interviewing Brinker, I told Josh that yesterday was the first time in about two years that I actually had to think about what I was going to wear to the interview. I meticulously laid out my clothes the night before (a belted light wool black shift dress), making sure this wasn't one of my usual stain-laden outfits.

Josh took this photo of Nancy yesterday, with her appropriately wearing the color pink, no obvious stains.

We talked about a lot of things. Her achievements, her goals and, most importantly, her fight for breast cancer research. She lost her sister, Susan G. Komen, to breast cancer 30 years ago. She talked, I listened. Surprisingly, when I talked, she listened. Classy, that's for sure. 

I told her I don't have a sister, only two brothers. But, I told her my best friend is like my sister, and I couldn't imagine losing her. Though my best friend isn't blood, she's pretty darn close to it. I then asked her what it was like losing a sister. In her words, "Along with losing my husband, it simply was the most traumatic event of my life." Her eyes paused. She squinted slightly. It was as if she needed a moment to visualize her next statement. After a half-second delay, Brinker continued, saying because her sister was so healthy, so kind, so lovely, the trauma of seeing her Suzy cut, burned and poisoned was devastating. And unfortunately a lasting memory for Brinker.

After my 20-minute interview session, and as Josh was snapping photos of her for our article, I began putting two and two together. I saw my interview subject for who she really was: an exalted woman celebrated for overcoming her trauma and applauded for her fight against it. I better understood how human Queen Bees are, how human this queen is. And, on second thought, maybe I could have shown up with a stain or two.

Hail the Queen

I sometimes forget how beautiful Fort Lauderdale is. Thanks goodness I have the Jungle Queen to jog my memory.

After 4+ years of living in the Venice of America, I've finally boarded the Jungle Queen yesterday. I was one of 417 guests on board, probably the second-most knowledgeable person of Fort Lauderdale on this boat (after Capt. Bill, that is). Though a South Florida resident, I've always wanted to take a tour of this caliber: one that's hokey, fun, gluttonous and very gluttonous. (Wait -- you didn't know the ride included an all-you-can-eat BBQ dinner? I didn't either until I boarded. The. Best. Surprise. Ever.)

So here are my top 5 reasons why I loved yesterday's ride on the Jungle Queen:

1. I didn't get seasick.

It's the first boat ride this year that I didn't get sick on. My guess is the calm New River had something to do with it.

2. We passed a rainbow.

I don't know why, but rainbows tend to make every trip a lil' better. And, it was no different this Jungle Queen ride.

3. I got to see the famous bell tower on Wayne Huizenga's property.

After getting reamed by my boss for never taking a ride on the water taxi and therefore never seeing the famed bell tower, I can now saw that I came and I conquered.

4. I got to see my friends Angela and Paul chow down on all-you-can-eat ribs, chicken and shrimp.

What makes this story even better is that Angela's a registered dietitian. Don't you love irony? 

P.S. Don't let these photos fool you -- Angela and Paul rarely used their utensils!

5. I got to chow down on all-you-can-eat ribs, chicken and shrimp.

The Bernie McCormick School of Journalism

Today our new associate editor asked me a simple question about our 73-year-old publisher: "What does Bernie do?"

My response? "After nearly five years working here, I'm still trying to figure out that answer."

I'm half-way kidding (which means I'm half-way serious). What our new editor wasn't aware of is that Bernie has carved his own role in this magazine that he bought nearly 40 years ago. To write down Bernie's job description would both humorous and very UN-time consuming. That's because while it looks like Bernie doesn't do much other than research how to bring a proper commuter train to downtown Fort Lauderdale, there's more to Bernie than it seems.

Beyond his role as a traditional publisher, Bernie has unofficially taken the role of Yoda to my Luke. He's taught me both life and professional lessons without once opening up a textbook or lesson plan. His lessons come rather situationly. Like, I don't need to start working on an article until it's due within 18 hours. That's lesson #1 in the Bernie McCormick School of Journalism.

Lesson #2? That writing articles about Tri-Rail is OK. Even more OK is writing articles about Tri-Rail 30 separate times in one year. And printing all 30 of them in our magazine.

But that's why we love the man. There's not too many people I know who don't feel the same way. As a younger editor, he makes me feel my ideas are just as strong a veteran's. He actually listens when I or any other young staff member talks. And for that, I cannot thank him enough.

Funny story to bring Bernie's personality full circle: After hearing of Bernie's fame in the local community, the other day a friend asked me what it was like working for Bernie McCormick. 

My response? 

"Bernie never makes me feel like I'm working for him; he makes me feel like I'm working with him."