After strolling just 20 feet into the Miami Beach Convention Center, the Basel epicenter, I am dazzled by the swirl of it all. The giant white walls stamped with masses of color transport me to a strange world, one inhabited exclusively by elegant people carrying designer handbags, with the soft hum of their many different languages hanging in the air.

I begin by wandering aimlessly, gaining my bearings and trying not to stumble over pieces of avant-garde sculpture jutting into the path. The Basel big-wigs selected over 250 international galleries to participate, and major players — Deitch, Gagosian — are set up just inside the entryway. The blue-chip galleries’ artworks are not labeled with the artists’ names — I suppose because an original Koons doesn’t need a label, and if you have to ask, well then you’re not who the people at Gagosian want to talk to anyway. Among all the super-big-name artists, though, I find a few new favorites, and their work tends to be neon-colored or to make use of text. (Is it obvious I’m a writer and a child of the ’80s?) If you are so inclined, check out the strong colors and shapes of brothers Gert and Uwe Tobias and the semi-representational/semi-creepy work of Albert Oehlen.

After I pass Val Kilmer in the hallway, sporting a cowboy hat and looking much slimmer than he has of late, it’s time to GTFO and give my feet and eyeballs a rest. I head around the corner to Lincoln Road, an outdoor mall with plenty of bars where I can enjoy a beverage while watching the crowds roll by. Things you don’t see in Sarasota: good-looking same-sex couples holding hands, cops on Segways and Gucci man-bags (except when Sarasota Ballet director Iain Webb rocks one, of course). I end my Friday at the divey Club Deuce with a few PBRs while a Keith Richards look-alike sitting across from me alternately poses for photos and makes out with one of the three girls crowded around him.

Saturday is rainy and chilly, but I manage to make it over to the SCOPE Miami Art Fair in the hip Wynwood area by late afternoon. Scope is one of the top satellite shows in town and and is a bit edgier and more affordable than the main fair — if thousands of dollars for a piece still counts as affordable. I am again thrilled by lots of bright colors, like in the work of Jen Stark, Sara Carter and Shawne Major, and am also pleased by the number of female artists represented. Aside from the main rooms, SCOPE houses a special Art Asia section, with lots of shiny sculptures and meticulously arranged objets d’art as well as a separate Art Market with edgy goods for sale from mostly local artisans.

As SCOPE shuts down I dawdle down the dim streets to see more of the Wynwood district’s regular artsy inhabitants, popping into dozens of small galleries ranging from fun and funky to clean and stark. At the Fountain Art Fair, another pop-up satellite show, the work gets even wilder, predominantly centered around sex, capitalism and spray paint. One artist has built himself a fort in the midst of his booth and stands atop it in a dirty bunny suit listening to mid-’90s New York rap. The scene is super-hipstery, with fake bags of cocaine lying on the bar top and skinny boys in tight pants chatting up even skinnier girls in ugly glasses. I’m once again hitting an art-saturation point and duck into Miami mainstay The Vagabond to chill out and wild out as the night rolls on. Before I know it, the clock strikes 5, which may or may not mean I called it a night and went home. . .

My weekend in Miami has been everything I’ve hoped: art up to my eyeballs, lots of crazy characters, and a few great clubs with kick-ass music. You can count on my return to Art Basel 2010, and hopefully earlier in the week next year for the official vernissage and even more celebrity sightings.

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If I have one concept to impart in my weekly time with each of you it is this: The scale and scope of happening hotness in this town continues to impress me, and we have those of you who are getting out there and making it happen to thank for that. Last week in particular, those awesome folks were numerous and varied. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Monthly dance party Soap has become something of a guilty pleasure for me. Guilty because Wednesday morning at the office after a night downing PBRs and whomping it up with Skiffle & Co. is generally a particularly tough concept. On this particular Tuesday, however, due to the Thanksgiving holiday, I secured a glorious Wednesday off. “It’s party time,” my pink hoop earrings seemed to be saying, so I plugged them in and headed to the Cabana for an extra-special Soap with musical guest Gil Mantera’s Party Dream, all the way from Ohio.

I was not familiar with GMPD before the night began but I must say their show will not soon be forgotten. I arrived as I Kill Pxls was finishing up his future-crooner set and made the rounds in the familiar dark smokiness of the Cabana. Bartendress Carrie, with a flower in her hair, had a drink ready for me before I could get to the bar top, as usual, and I greeted her and BF Jake Dubber aka Shock to the System, as he rocked out with his signature lightning-bolt-arm. Local faves This Is an Adventure took the stage before the Party Dream began and cemented their standing as a crowd-worthy act once more with their live rendition of “Fantasy.”

I knew I was in for a treat when three guys in black and red Adidas tracksuits arrived and carried a total of nine beers on stage with them. I was parked directly in front of Gil himself and his black studded gloves drew attention to his finger work on the keyboard while Ultimate Donny on guitar kicked it out center-stage. The dance floor filled immediately and I worked it out with the best of them until the boys couldn’t possibly throw out another ’80s dance move and bid goodnight with a finale of their synthy hit “Elmo’s Wish.”

Being the intrepid reporter I am, I followed the band “backstage” into one of the Cabana’s actual motel rooms to ask them some stupid questions like, “If you were an animal, which would you be?” Scruffy-faced Ultimate Donny’s answer: “I wouldn’t want to be an animal. I like being who I am.” Say word. The Dream boys and I enjoyed a screwdriver before it was time to shut it down for the night and they took off in their ultimate Ford Winstar van. Although they didn’t light their junk on fire as anticipated — something to do with the band’s parents being in the crowd that night, perhaps — GMPD was a rowdy, raw, wild show, the likes of which we certainly do not see every day in Sarasota. Come back and visit, boys!

After a very hearty traditional turkey day I was almost on my feet again by Friday night and hurriedly threw on my version of dancing shoes — patent open-toed pumps, natch — to join local PR maven Gayle Williams for the opening night of the Sarasota Ballet’s performance of Giselle. I snagged possibly the last open parking spot in downtown Sarasota and rushed into the Opera House just in time to get a program and fall breathlessly into my seat as visiting maestro Emil de Cou lifted his baton.

This was my first ballet since childhood and I was truly enthralled by the beauty and grace of the dancers’ movements. I loved watching the ballerinas flit about the stage, alternately playing joyful, murderous and everything in between. The second act of Giselle was even better, as the 20 ballerinas in beautiful white dresses — representing ghostly scorned lovers — all danced in unison while the single male dancer bounded fearfully across the stage.

The festivities continued that night at Urban Reef, aka the old Esca. I suppose I had been subconsciously boycotting the new place, but E.J. Porter’s invitation to his latest event, Black on Black Friday, the follow up to his successful Ultra White Affair at G.Wiz a few months back, was more than I could resist. As I described last time, Mr. Porter and his crowd know how to throw a party. Both floors of Esca — I mean Urban Reef — were closed to the public for the event and delicious spreads of food were lying in wait as well as two-for-one drinks and a great mix of classic soul and hot new hip-hop.

I’m not sure it’s possible, but the people were even more glammed up for this party than the last, with men in stunner shades left and right and ladies showing off shoulders and stilettos despite the chilly temps. By midnight, with the club completely packed, the doors were shut for the night. The event was surely a success, including one memorable moment getting trapped on the staircase with about 20 other partygoers when the rooms were too full to let anyone up or down. And what do you think we did? Start our own hallway dance party, of course.

The dancing continued into the wee hours on Friday. On Saturday, I rested. Something about beauty sleep? Yea. Sunday morning I was happy to drag myself out of bed and down to the CL offices to chip in with a little neighborhood clean-up prior to Rosemary Rising this Thursday — “Sarasota’s hippest holiday walk” if you didn’t know. After a little honest labor it was time for The Kidney Koncert, a benefit at The Children’s Garden for local bartender and friend to all Eddie Sager’s battle with kidney cancer.

In this just-off-the-beaten-path venue, friends of Eddie gathered to enjoy live music from Nino Pinelli, Tim Salem and Passerine among others, as well as a delicious whole roasted pig and old-fashioned mac ’n’ cheese, plus all the wine and beer you could drink. The dark night, cool air and whimsical garden was the perfect backdrop to conclude my week with one last pinot grigio. It feels great to be a city with so many caring, creative and enthusiastic people in all walks of life.

Bring it, Sarasota! Whatchu got next?

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