La Loquita del Zig-Zag

Idly Googling "Miami Lakes cows" yesterday as lazily as the fine specimens cited in the following have (until fairly recently?) chewed their cud, I came up with not one, but two (!) companion pieces that came out in The Herald just pre-Katrina (which would explain why I wasn't paying attention).

It's time. Behold, The Bovine Colossus. Moo.

THE BOVINE COLOSSUS

BY GEORGINA MARRERO

There’s a new restaurant in Miami Lakes. Driving by it, I stared at its name. I had to drive by it again, and actually had to pull into its parking lot. I stared again, still in disbelief. Buca di Beppo Immigrant Italian Dining, it calls itself. Immigrant Italian? I could not help envisioning Italian immigrants bypassing Ellis Island, and disembarking onto this restaurant’s brand-new parking lot. Instead of the Statue of Liberty, the huddled, tax-exempt Graham cows welcome them. Indeed?
In mild-eyed wonder, the cows graze – and gaze – upon the Miami Lakes Common. The new extension of Main Street, which now extends to the other side of Ludlam Road, separates two modern-day Gangs of Miami Lakes, Buca di Beppo, and Tony Roma’s. “Keep ancient grudges, you single-storied saloons of gluttony!” they cry out, silently.
Our immigrants and cows alike are neither tired, nor especially poor. On the contrary, they are well fed… in every sense of the word. After their meals – either indoors or at the trough – they equally yearn to breathe free, unpolluted air. As long as they all steer clear of the freshly laid asphalt, they stand a chance.
Their teeming, steaming refuse piles up, either in the dumpster, or in the grass. Homeless they are not. Drive by the benches lining the upper reaches of Calle Ocho to spot those who truly are, who alternate their time between ranting and raving at the thin air, and lying, motionless, in their never-ending quest to gain access to the buses. Go to the shore of the Miami River – or, better yet, to Cayo Hueso – to find the tempest-tossed. Find the lamp beside the golden door of the Wachovia branch right across the street from the cow pasture. Or, perhaps, hop onto the Palmetto Expressway; get off at Northwest 36th Street, and head west to the Spa at the Doral. If your eyes glaze over, proceed immediately to DA BEECH. The Delano awaits your pleasure.
Meanwhile, back in Miami Lakes: try to pet the cows. Worse yet, take their picture. The Graham cows are not as forgiving as Lady Liberty. Take my word for it. Moo.
Copyright, 2003 by Georgina Marrero 356 words All rights reserved