Miami Bitch

Just spent three nights in Miami, attending a Hispanic advertising conference.
Here are some generalized impressions about Miami.
There are a lot of new empty high rises.
There are a lot of very tacky people, with extremely tacky tastes.
People like and wear logos around here. They haven't gotten the memo.
It's a superficial and uninteresting version of LA, when LA was a cultural wasteland.
It's humid.
Every hotel thinks the swimming pool should be a disco, regardless of the wishes or opinions of the guests. This being Miami, the playlists seem to be chosen by committees of vulgarian technopop sadists. This idiotic dj-ing at the pool drove me crazy, and for this reason alone I consign Miami to its own circle of hell. 
Another curious idiocy are the check in and out times (at least in my hotel). Check in is at 4 pm, which means, if you took a morning flight, you are to wander around without a room for most of the day. And checkout, get this, is at a prompt 11 am. For a town where tourists party (since there's nothing else to do), this is absurd.
Miami is an outpost of Latin America without the charm. There is absolutely no need to conduct yourself in English.
The beach is nice, the sea is warm, but there is garbage on the beach. Now, when I get into the sea I wonder if the fishies are swallowing my SPF 500. We really are gross, us humans.
But they do have a branch of Paul, the famous French boulangerie. And we don't.
And they have the only airport in this country where you can eat actual food (Cuban and delicious).