and Words
I can feel it coming in the air tonight, (Oh lord)
And I’ve been waiting for this moment, for all my life, (Oh lord)
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, oh lord, (Oh lord)
Well, if you told me you were drowning
I would not lend a hand
I’ve seen your face before my friend
But I don’t know if you know who I am
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
It was 1984 and a great many of us stayed home on Friday evenings or we alternatively set the timer on the VCR to record a television show. That’s right, a television show, but it was no ordinary television show. It was a delicious marriage of wickedness, style, music, and tropical paradise. This show was Miami Vice, even the name spoke of tropical paradise and wickedness.
This show colored my experiences. Storylines often spanned more than one episode, which was enough of a divergence from other shows to keep you guessing. They were often dark too; plotlines that fit the label of ‘vice’. Some left you feeling dirty, like need-to-take-a-shower dirty. Others left you grieving for the characters as you watch them spiral into oblivion. There was at least one where you see a son wedged and effectively help convict his father. This may not be much by today’s standards, but it was pretty darn gritty for 1984.
I lived in Fort Lauderdale and attended high school when the show was first released. Lauderdale was like many suburban towns in Florida, though with a disproportionately high population of retirees. Don’t get me wrong, it was a fine place to grow up, but it wasn’t Miami.
Miami was less than an hour’s drive from Fort Lauderdale. It was geographically close but culturally a world away. Miami had pockets of Cuban and Haitian communities, each with their own culture and language. Many in these neighborhoods do not speak English; it’s a bit like visiting a foreign country. It wasn’t merely the language; the buildings and businesses mimicked their styles. While I’ve never been to Cuba, I imagine that Miami had a style of its own. Portions borrow from Cuban influence, but still distinctly different.
One of my favorite places was a cafeteria with a bar that opened up right to the sidewalk. I would order the food in Spanish and none of the staff was at all shocked at a Chinese man should be speaking to them in Spanish. Spanish was the standard in Little Havana. It was a way for me to return to the food that I enjoyed in Puerto Rico, with dishes like papa rellenos and media noches.
Some elements were strictly Miami. South Beach at night was bathed in neon lights with clubs on every block, and during the days their population adorned the topless beaches. I heard once that South Beach had the highest concentration of models among their residents in the US; I believe it. A bit further inland sat Coconut Grove, another upscale neighborhood surrounded by high crime neighborhoods; if you strayed a little too far from the main roads, you may be approached by either a drug dealer or a prostitute. It was all the flavor of the city.
As I graduated high school, I attended the University of Miami and then it became my newly adopted city. Many classmates were local and part of the Spanish speaking population. These were a mixture of Cuban, Venezuelan, Columbian, Mexican and Puerto Rican descent, but we were all there. It was with these friends where I returned back to that culture that I had abandoned many years before. I missed it.
I drove home to Lauderdale on the weekends, where I had a job waiting on tables. My boss, fascinated by my attending the university, started to call me ‘Miami Vice’. I don’t know if there was any other subtext to that label, apart from my attending the school. Though really, there are worse nicknames to have; I never asked why.
Miami Vice ran from high school through parts of college, during that time it established many cultural influences. I had friends who dressed like the characters in the show. They attended class in pink or peach colored shirts or pants. It was all part of the Miami Art Deco look; pastel colors dominated wardrobes. I know no one who lived in a yacht or had a crocodile as a pet, but certainly there were influences. It was a little ‘dirty’, a bit ‘foreign’, and a lot ‘stylish’. Miami was my new home.
The show launched many careers, both actors and musicians. The music set the show apart, to a degree that it still doesn’t exist today on a television show. There was even one episode that featured Glenn Frey’s music (Smuggler’s Blues) as well as his acting as… a smuggler; you can’t help but to be amused by that.
There is however one song that is iconic in its integration with the show. It’s this one, ‘In the Air Tonight’ as it is played in the pilot episode. As the song plays, you see Crocket and Tubbs zipping around in their little convertible sports car as they speed through scenic bridges in Miami. It’s in a night cityscape over the water, as you can see the gentle shimmering of the moonlight and city lights as it reflects off the water. The song similarly darkly mirrors the circumstances and the setting of the show.
I now live in Seattle. On an occasional night, I may drive out one bridge and back on the other (I-90 and 520) for a joy ride over Lake Washington. I’ll take the top off the car (or perhaps roll the windows down) and drive over those bridges in a similar fashion. When I’m in this mode, I’ll start the song playing at just the right moment, this is on I-5 a couple of exits before getting on 520. If the traffic cooperates, I’ll hit the crescendo of the song, right around 3:40 right as I’m driving over the bridge. Just the way it was in the show, though obviously I have no immediate meeting with the criminal element on the streets of Seattle.
It’s just a nostalgic reference to those days I spent between high school and college; it reminds me of home.