What a difference a chat makes.
It turns out that the big, scary socialist bogeyman that Miami politicians loved to weaponize in the recent mayor’s race — New York’s free Mayor-elect Zohran Mamdani, the one they tried to tie around Eileen Higgins’ neck like some kind of communism-flavored cowbell — is now, apparently, Donald Trump’s new bestie.
Yes, that Donald Trump. Yes, that Mamdani. And yes, the political world is spinning so fast Ladra’s cafecito almost spilled.
And while South Florida’s self-proclaimed defenders of freedom from the Red Menace are usually the first to jump on a microphone to scream “¡SOCIALISMO!” at anything from bus shelters to bike lanes, the Mamdani–Trump meet-and-greet last week has somehow left them all shockingly, suspiciously, strategically quiet.
The silence is so loud you can hear the echo bouncing off the windows at Versailles.
Read related: Partisan divide is strong in Miami mayoral race, Gonzalez vs Higgins
National outlets went into overdrive after Mamdani emerged from the Oval Office, where he had a surprisingly cordial and friendly chat with Trump and a whole lot of photographers.
CBS News had the receipts. AP confirmed the tone. Time, Newsweek and the Washington Post chronicled the confusion — especially among MAGA hardliners who suddenly didn’t know whether to clap, cry, or Google “Is socialism still bad?”
One conservative pundit called the moment “baffling.” Another warned the base to “play the long game.” Others were still rebooting their internal hard drives.
Meanwhile, progressives didn’t know whether to applaud or check the fire alarm. Some activists praised Mamdani for showing up and demanding real housing policy. Others muttered “betrayal” and “publicity stunt” between sips of overpriced cold brew.
But the best reaction? Oh, mis amigos, that would be the Florida Republicans — so chatty, so dramatic, so eager to compare Eileen Higgins to Fidel Jr. during the campaign — who suddenly went full monastic vow of silence.
Where are Miami’s anti-socialist avengers now? Let’s check in on the usual suspects:

Miami and Miami-Dade commissioners who shrieked “Mamdani! Mamdani!” into every microphone like it was Beetlejuice? Crickets.
State legislators who used “socialism” in their campaigns more often than “traffic,” “affordability,” or “take responsibility for anything”? Nada.
The politicians who smeared Eileen Higgins with guilt-by-association because Mamdani maybe aligns with her on transit or housing? Mute. Off. Airplane mode.

Where are all the warnings? Where is the outrage? Where are the dramatic press releases about Trump being infiltrated by Marxist ideology with a dash of saffron?
Apparently, when Trump himself plays footsie with the socialist boogeyman, the anti-socialist brigade suddenly develops a very convenient case of laryngitis.
Maybe they’re drafting a resolution condemning socialism except when Trump does it. Maybe they’re waiting for talking points from Tallahassee. Maybe they’re all just stunned that Dear Leader didn’t run Mamdani out of the Oval Office with a Bible and a canister of tear gas.
Even former City Manager Emilio González, who has recently promoted his endorsement for Miami mayor from The Donald, made like the Mamdani-Trump bromance was no big deal. But maybe he won’t honk that horn so loud now.
Read related: A GOP hugger vs. a developers’ darling — Miami’s mayoral race just got defined
While the national press dissected every angle — the optics, the messaging, the very awkward grin Trump flashed while Mamdani spoke — Miami’s political class remained curled up in the fetal position, rocking gently and whispering “This doesn’t fit the script.” Political observers have gently pointed out that local electeds are doing political calculus, trying to figure out whether this meeting makes socialism cool now or whether they’re supposed to spin it as a masterstroke of negotiation.
Real-estate insiders are nervously watching, wondering if Trump’s sudden willingness to speak about housing affordability could actually intersect with Mamdani’s policy ideas. Developers don’t care about ideology — just whether zoning changes make them money.
But the most terrified people in South Florida right now? The anti-socialist cheerleaders who spent the last election season fundraising off fear and fables.
Now they’re caught between defending Trump (mandatory), and denouncing Mamdani (instinctual), and reconciling the fact that their hero and their villain just sat down for a chat (impossible).
As if the universe wanted to rub salt in their wounds, the very same day Mamdani and Trump met, Congress — with heavy Florida involvement — advanced a symbolic resolution condemning socialism and denouncing it in all its forms. It was sponsored by Miami Congresswoman María Elvira Salazar and, even though she’s been scaring constituents about socialism since her first election, Mamdani’s name did come up.
“The Mamdani socialist agenda is seeping into our country like poison,” said House Republican Conference Chairwoman Lisa McClain. “Republicans won’t let it take root.”
Um, except at the White House?
Read related: GOP candidates repeat the ‘won’t lose my country’ mantra in campaign ads
The MAGA base was baffled. Progressives were amused. Miami politicos suddenly remembered they had “no comment at this time.”
Even the ones who weaponized Mamdani’s name like a campaign cudgel couldn’t bring themselves to utter a single syllable. The silence is almost sweet.
So, what does this mean? It’s not so hard. Trump will talk to anyone who makes him look statesmanlike. Mamdani will talk to anyone who will listen to his housing points. And Miami’s politicians will talk about socialism — except when doing so could look like they’re criticizing Trump.
It’s not that they don’t have opinions. It’s that they don’t have permission to say them yet. Once someone in Tallahassee or Mar-a-Lago decides the official line — “genius move,” “nothingburger,” “deepfake,” whatever — the talking will resume.
Until then? They’ll stay quiet and hope nobody remembers all those speeches, tweets, and mailers where they swore Mamdani was the biggest threat to democracy since salami on a medianoche.
The Cortadito conclusion: Trump met with the socialist our local politicos used to frighten Miami voters. Mamdani walked out standing his ground, unshaken, and pretty clearly amused. The national press went nuts. The MAGA base short-circuited. And South Florida’s loudest anti-socialist crusaders — the ones who slandered Eileen Higgins with guilty-by-retweet nonsense — have suddenly turned into mimes.
If Ladra didn’t know better, she’d think they were embarrassed.
But let’s be real. They’re not embarrassed. They’re just waiting to see how to spin it so they don’t have to admit the obvious: Their whole “Mamdani = Evil Socialist Threat” act was a cheap campaign scare tactic that just blew up spectacularly in their faces.
Until then, the silence will have to do.
And oh, qué rico it is.

Read Full Story

As usual, las malas lenguas were right: Coral Gables Mayor Vince Lago is no longer warming a chair at BDI Construction. Pero why? Pick your poison.
Is this more fallout from the FBI’s sniffing around developer Rishi Kapoor’s influence over Miami Mayor Francis Suarez — a.k.a. Lago’s political BFF? Is this a pre-emptive cleanse before Commissioner Melissa Castro’s anti-kickback ordinance hits the fan? Or did Hizzoner just blow one of his trademark ’roid-rage gaskets at the office and poof — hasta la vista?
When Ladra dialed BDI last week, the receptionist sounded like I had asked for Santa Claus. “Who?” After repeating the mayor’s name — slowly — she finally said, “He’s not an employee of BDI anymore.”
Why? Where’d he go? Was he fired? Pushed? Paid to disappear? She didn’t know. “I just know he no longer works here.” Translation: Don’t ask me, lady. I’m not touching that mess.
Read related: Coral Gables Mayor Vince Lago has more city business than we thought
The exit details are the new parlor game in the City Beautiful. Did Lago jump? Was he shoved? Or was the man who insists on calling himself a “business owner” shown the door by the actual business owners?
Because — newsflash — state corporate records list Carlos and Teobaldo Rosell as the owners of BDI. Lago did start a company with them, BDI Holdings, in 2022 but it was administratively dissolved in 2023. Was he pretending to own 33% of the other company? And folks who know the Rosells describe them as decent, honorable people — the type who probably don’t want a Lyin’ Lago strutting around town claiming their company like he bought it on Amazon Prime.
Como siempre, the mayor ghosted Ladra’s calls and texts. Maybe he’s busy dusting off his resume and making phone calls. Or…
Another rumor is that Lago — who hasn’t publicly announced his separation from BDI —  is cooking up his own company. Perhaps something with Suarez, who is termed out and packing up his desk.
According to his sparse and neglected LinkedIn profile (he still hasn’t changed his employment status), Lago was a “project executive” at BDI for almost 14 years — longer than he’s held elected office — having started in January 2012, a year before he was first elected commissioner in 2013. And yet, he lists no other work experience, which we know is adorable fiction. Lago has collected LLCs the way other men collect cologne samples.
There’s Hammer Lake Construction and Design, created in 2022 with perennial candidate Norman Anthony “Tony” Newell. There’s his self-proclaimed part-ownership of a downtown coffee shop — so maybe our mayor’s next career is as a barista. “Double-shot latte with a sprinkle of corruption, coming right up.”
Lago is also a licensed real estate agent tied to former Hialeah Councilman Oscar de la Rosa’s boutique firm — the same one that made a $640,000 commission off that Kapoor building on Ponce de Leon Boulevard.
Read related: Developer who paid Miami mayor also rents from Gables Mayor Vince Lago
And let’s not forget Capitol Equity LLC, which Lago formed with de la Rosa in 2021. It died quietly the next year. RIP.
And thanks to the Miami Herald, we also know Lago is part owner of a Ponce de Leon storefront that rented to Kapoor’s Location Ventures for more than $12,400 a month as a sales office — even though the space sat empty. That’s over $152,000 for air-conditioning the dust bunnies.
Business savvy? Claro que sí.
One thing seems almost certain: Vince Lago will land on his feet. Firmly. Deeply. Maybe with both shoes in the mud.

You can help get more independent, watchdog government reporting of our local government and political campaigns to our community with a contribution to Political Cortadito. Click here. Ladra thanks you for your support.

The post Coral Gables Mayor Vince Lago no longer works at BDI Construction appeared first on Political Cortadito.

Read Full Story

Miami District 5 Commissioner Christine King, who cruised to re-election with a North-Korea-level 84% of the vote, was sworn in last week at City Hall surrounded by supporters, staff, church folks, youth groups, neighborhood leaders, and of course, the ever-present political padrino Keon Hardemon, whose fingerprints are still all over D5 like pastelito crumbs on a guayabera.
But there was someone missing — her father, who recently passed away. And when King talked about him, that’s when her voice cracked. Even Ladra’s cold little political heart moved a bit. (Just a bit.)
Her mother beamed with the kind of pride only a Caribbean mom can radiate — the kind that can warm a room and intimidate half the dais at the same time. You know who you are.
King, raised in Miami since the age of five, is the first Guyanese American ever elected to the Miami City Commission and the first woman to serve as chair. She talked about the “honor” of representing District 5 — and for once, it didn’t sound like boilerplate politician talk. Between the grief and the gratitude, she let the audience see the human behind the title. Rare for the 305, where over-polished speeches are practically an Olympic sport.
“This was a thank you campaign,” she said, thanking everyone for “allowing me the privilege and honor to serve. I do not take that responsibility lightly.”
Next to her mother, she broke into tears talking about her dad. “I lost my dad this year and that was really hard and it is still really hard. Which is why I’m tearing up now. Because he’s not here. But he is here.”
She said she lived “a fairy tale” life and thanked her family, her staff, her constituents and her mentors, including Billy Hardemon and former State Rep. Roy Hardemon, who died last week but was mentioned a few times.
“This life that I’ve been gifted by God is so full and my cup runneth over. I get to do things to improve the lives of families in District 5 and that’s what this job is about.
“Being able to work with commissioner Hardemon together to serve our community has been transformative for our community.”
Termed-out Mayor Francis Suarez was exuberant in his remarks.
“She is someone who has a tremendous fighting spirit,” Suarez said. “She has a fighter’s spirit, but she does it with a mother’s touch and with a soft hand. I remember when she was first elected and my chair had left our city, that I said I need someone who can keep the guys under control.
Read related: No runoffs in Miami as incumbents and Christine King score big election wins
“She said no at first. She literally told me no. She said, ‘No, I’m not ready. I just got here.’ I said, “No, no, no no, you are ready. You are made for this. Your personality is perfectly balanced to manage the people who are up here.”
Later, Commissioner Miguel Gabela said what everyone was thinking: “You’ve had a hard time working with us, you know, keeping us straight at times here. We’ve had a little bit of trouble on and off,” Gabela said. Ladra wonders if he means the time he got up and almost punched Joe Carollo.
Said Damian Pardo: “You do an amazing job of keeping the boys in line.”
During her words, King said “irrespective of what you all may hear, these are great guys. And I love them all… they are part of my fairy tale.”
Yeah, they’re all there: the big bad wolf, the tricky troll, the evil stepfather.
Suarez said King has a calming voice — which has been useful and has been useless at some meetings — and credited her with “making sure the agenda happens.” Suarez called her “a loyal friend… a loyal ally,” good, transparent, honest — and Ladra doesn’t know how those things can coexist.
Hardemon also had nothing but good things to say about his “number one partner” in the community, who he bonded with before either was elected. But he couldn’t help but take a few digs at the former county commissioner without naming her (Audrey Edmonson).
“To see these four years pass by so quickly, it’s like a blink of an eye,” he said, talking about the prrogress she’s made working with the county and the state. “I’m proud of the progress that you made. You made women in this town look good. I hope my daughters grow up to be somebody just like you, who can do something and say I can do it as a lady and look good doing it.”
Um, what? Cringe.
Read related: Miami-Dade Commissioners silence voters, appoint District 5 replacement
Even newly-appointed Miami-Dade Commissioner Vicki Lopez, less than 24 hours after her own swearing in, had some words of encouragement and support, calling King her sister and her “partner in crime.” Whoops. Hopefully, Lopez doesn’t mean the bribery charge she was slapped with when she was a Lee County commissioner in the 1990s.
“The thing that impressed me the most about her is that she led with her heart. She has cared deeply not only about her district but about the entire city,” Lopez said, adding that she had worked with King as a state rep on some projects and issues. “Some in her district and some not in her district. She never wavered in her commitment to the city.”
Still, this is Miami, and nobody gets a coronation without a bit of context.
There was never really a contest in D5. Marion Brown, a construction executive, and Frederick Bryant, a retired teacher and community activist really wasted their time running against her.
King — who previously served as Chief of Constituent Services for Miami-Dade County and later as president and CEO of the MLK Economic Development Corporation — has been the hand-picked successor to Hardemon, who went on to the Miami-Dade Commission, since before the commission slapped him in the face and appointed Commissioner Jeffrey “Who” Watson, who sorta promised, but not really, not to run for real and then got stomped in 2021 when Christine took 65% of the vote.
The chairwoman has some first-term wins: affordable-housing action, rental assistance, millions secured for Overtown, youth and workforce investments, homelessness programs, climate initiatives, beautification projects, and her signature “Constituent Tuesdays,” where anyone can show up and bend her ear without an appointment.
She promised more of the same in Term Two — more affordable housing, more youth programs, more senior support, more mental health access, more homelessness strategies, more resilience projects, and more neighborhood partnerships. All good things. All needed. All ambitious in the little four-year window Miami politicians get before redistricting, chaos, or FBI raids disrupt everything.
Read related: Rolando Escalona picks up two anti-Carollo endorsements in Miami D3 race
The only person beaming harder than King and her mom was Hardemon — the man who helped launch King into office back in 2021. The political godfather. The one person whose nod means more in District 5 than most outside it realize.
This wasn’t just a swearing-in; it was a reaffirmation of the District 5 political lineage. A continuation. A passing of the torch that never actually left the family.
But to King’s credit, she has grown into the role on her own terms. And on Thursday, as she promised to keep fighting for residents being pushed out of the neighborhoods they helped build, it felt… genuine. Emotional, yes. But, also, earned.
District 5 has seen its share of political turnover, drama, and reinvention. But for the next four years, it looks like Christine King isn’t going anywhere.

You can help get more independent, watchdog government reporting of our local government and political campaigns to our community with a contribution to Political Cortadito. Click here. Ladra thanks you for your support.

The post Miami Commissioner Christine King is sworn in, returned to her throne appeared first on Political Cortadito.

Read Full Story

Miami-Dade’s nonprofit industrial complex took another bow this week, and — ay, Dios mío — County Hall is starting to look less like a government building and more like the green room for a very special episode of The Price Is Right.
Because once again, commissioners were asked to sign off on a brand-new pot of money for their favorite nonprofits. And once again, the numbers didn’t add up. And once again, the appropriations committee did what Miami-Dade commissioners do best when they don’t want to say “no” — they kicked the can down the road so hard it bounced into the next fiscal year.
The pitch this time? A so-called CBO Trust Fund for “community-based organizations,” or non-profits that fill the gaps of service where the county can’t. But let’s not pretend it’s anything other than a slush fund starter kit.
Read related: Miami-Dade might skim a little off the top of contracts — for the nonprofits
The grand idea was dreamed up by none other than Commissioner Kionne McGhee, patron saint of Miami-Dade’s nonprofit class has had four of his own non-profit organizations and still has one, Conquering Hope Blueprint, with his whole family.
McGhee also works for Children of Inmates, a group that got $250,000 from the county just this year. About half of that will cover his salary and benefits.
It looks like that’s the formula at Miami-Dade: Kristi House, an advocacy center to prevent child sexual abuse and trafficking that serves as the central hub in Miami-Dade County for coordinating legal, medical, and social services for child victims and their families, was scheduled to get $450,000 in county grants this year. Executive Director Amanda Altman, makes a salary of just over half at $266,038.
McGhee’s proposal would have the county scrape a teeny-tiny 2% off county vendor contracts and redirect it into grants for nonprofits. A permanent revenue stream! A fountain of taxpayer love! A bottomless mimosa brunch for the advocacy class!
Except, well, the math ain’t mathing.
County budget staff estimated the plan, which would not apply to proprietary funds like the airport and seaport, would generate maybe $4 to $5 million, tops. A rounding error, considering nonprofits raked in about $80 million last year alone.
Commissioner Danielle Cohen Higgins cut through the fog quickly: “Not even a Band-Aid,” she said. And she was right. More like putting a Hello Kitty sticker on a gunshot wound.
But McGhee wasn’t giving up. He pushed staff — hard — to promise that vendors wouldn’t pass the cost onto taxpayers. Budget Chief David Clodfelter gave him a polite but firm “No puedo.” So McGhee turned to another senior staffer, Chief Administrative Officer Carladenise Edwards, who wisely refused to touch that political live wire.
Read related: Kionne McGhee has own Miami-Dade budget town hall to focus on non-profits
And then, because the drama levels were still too low, McGhee tried to float the idea of putting the whole thing on the ballot. On the ballot, after everyone in the room had already agreed the trust fund wouldn’t actually raise enough money to solve the problem it claimed to solve.
This is where Ladra had to resist the urge to throw a chancleta at the dais. It happens more often than you think.
Why the desperation? Why the insistence on pumping public dollars into nonprofit pipelines that clearly can’t sustain themselves without government sugar?
Well, let’s take a look at the Form 6 filings, hall we?
McGhee, who never met a nonprofit he didn’t want to sponsor, has been collecting $99,416.18 every year — down to the last penny — from Children of Inmates, a nonprofit that just so happens to have a long and cozy relationship with Miami-Dade’s budget process. That’s not consulting. That’s not occasional work. That’s a salary. A salary funded indirectly by the same ecosystem he is now trying to give a permanent revenue stream to.
If you thought McGhee was the only one auditioning for the role of “Nonprofit Whisperer,” surprise! Commissioner Roberto Gonzalez, once the fiscal conservative watchdog who barked at every penny misspent, has now curled up in McGhee’s lap like a new rescue pup. The two have been showing up to each other’s events like they’re running a buddy-cop campaign, not a county government. Insiders in the Stephen P. Clark Center say the quiet part out loud: the two have struck a mutual-support pact for chair and vice chair of the commission (more on that later).
And because nothing screams “transparency” like a backroom alliance, they’ve scheduled a Sunshine Meeting to “flush out” questions about nonprofits and the trust fund.
Ladra translation: They want to get their story straight before the rest of Miami-Dade sees the receipts.
Now, we’re heading toward the big Sunshine Meeting, which, let’s be honest, will be a carefully scripted performance dressed up as transparency. Expect glossy charts. Expect solemn speeches. Expect a whole lot of “we hear the concerns” without actually addressing who benefits from this convoluted tangle of nonprofit funding, political ambition, and personal ties.
Read related: Miami-Dade budget restores 100% funds to non-profits = self preservation
But the real questions are no longer whisper-level inside County Hall. They’re out here with the taxpayers:

Why is a commissioner who earns nearly $100K a year from a nonprofit also the architect of a permanent funding scheme for nonprofits?
Why has a former fiscal conservative suddenly become his number-one hype man?
Why are county employees raising red flags about management hires (more on that later) tied to the same nonprofit world driving this debate?
And why are taxpayers expected to foot this bill, while nobody acknowledges the conflicts staring us all in the face?

Nonprofits do important work. Ladra knows that. But they are not required parts of government. They do not have a constitutional right to taxpayer money. And Miami-Dade residents should not have to support a growing cottage industry of politically favored organizations whose leaders have one hand on the microphone and the other in the county budget.
The fact that some commissioners balked should tell you everything.
The trust fund doesn’t work. The numbers don’t work. The alliances don’t smell right. And the nonprofit industrial complex may  finally face the kind of scrutiny it has dodged for years.

Read Full Story

Only in Miami do we have a full-blown political race underway for a Florida House special election that the governor hasn’t even bothered to call yet.
But that hasn’t stopped the early birds — or the opportunists — from flocking to District 113, which State Rep. Vicki López just abandoned mid-term to keep Eileen Higgins’ old seat warm on the County Commission.
And oh, she left a parting gift on her way out: an endorsement for the guy she wants to keep her seat warm in Tallahassee.
Surprise! It’s not the guy who applied for her Commission seat two days earlier.
It’s Republican businessman and FIU-grown urban planner Frank Lago — a one-time chief of staff to Sweetwater Mayor Manny Marono, who lost a 2011 council run in Hialeah after losing a different state house race to replace Esteban “Stevie” Bovo when he left to go to the Miami-Dade Commission  — has filed for HD 113 as the apparent heir apparent to López, who called him “dedicated,” “trustworthy,” and possessing a “true servant’s heart.”
Which is Miami political code for: “He’s my pick, don’t screw this up.”
Frank Lago, left, with former Hialeah Councilman Luis Gonzalez and land use lobbyist Alejandro Arias in 2019
Lago, bless his heart, called López’s endorsement “deeply grateful” and thanked her for her “leadership.” It was all very sweet, very wholesome, very press-release-polished. The kind of thing that confirms what everyone had been whispering for days: Lago is the GOP’s pick. Make no mistake — Frank Lago is entering this race as the GOP establishment favorite.
Urban planning background (read: land use/zoning lobbying)? Check. Nonprofits on the résumé? Check. Chair of the Miami-Dade Planning Advisory Board? Check. Ready-made talking points about prosperity, innovation, and the American Dream? Check, check and triple check.
And with HD 113 red-trending in recent cycles — Republicans now slightly outnumber Democrats in registration — the party bigs are licking their chops to keep this in the red.
But Lago might be cast as a carpetbagger. A Mike Redondo 2.0. Everything we know about him is Hialeah. Not only did he run for office there, he was entrenched: Lago supported former Hialeah Mayor Julio Robaina‘s county mayoral bid against now Congressman Carlos Gimenez. He doesn’t live in the district.
And Tony Diaz, who announced hours after Lopez was appointed, has lived in the district his entire life. Well, after being born at Palmetto Hospital, that is. He went home to an apartment in Little Havana and grew up in Silver Bluff, where he has lived in the same house for 20 years. Diaz, 31, is raising his daughter there after his parents moved to Coral Gables. “I didn’t want to leave Miami. I like it here. It’s five blocks from Publix and CVS and I have a Casola’s and a Pekin Palace five blocks away. What more do you want?
“I’m literally a part of the district, to because I moved or have a rent like some of these guys. I have just created my happy little life here and I don’t want to go anywhere else,” Diaz told Political Cortadito.
Read related: Tony Diaz doesn’t waste a minute – files for House seat vacated by Vicki Lopez
He went with his family to the St. Peter and Paul Catholic School Carnival this weekend. Diaz, 31, went there; class of 2008. He graduated from La Salle High School. He knows the city issues and he knows the county issues, which is why he flirted with a run for Miami District 4 and then applied for the appointment to Miami-Dade’s District 3.
Diaz, who owns a small printing shop and has just started a fruit-tree grafting business, lost that sweepstakes Tuesday, as expected. And by Wednesday he was running for HD 113. It’s like musical chairs but with campaign signs.
Diaz, who has now filed for the seat, positions himself as a Republican who wants to “work across the aisle” and “reject divisive rhetoric.” He talks earnestly about “growing pains” facing Florida, which is objectively hilarious coming from a man who literally grows grafted mango trees for a living.
His big pitch is Florida is not for sale.
“Florida is in the clutches of special interests. All around us lobbyists and irresponsible political players sell out your voice and prey on our busy life to line their own pockets,” Diaz says on his website. “I will be a watchdog that you can depend on. Constantly searching for ways to help the everyday Floridian to again enjoy life in their state. I will also work to ensure that elections are as clean as can be by proposing laws that help Supervisors of Election across Florida to reign in questionable activity.”
On the other side of the primary, we only have one Democrat in the room so far: Justin Mendoza Routt, a polished, true-believer candidate who checked all the other Miami boxes.
Colombian-American? Check. Lifelong Miamian? Check. Civic engagement? Check. Grew up everywhere from Hialeah Gardens to Overtown and then worked in finance in New York? Check, check and triple check.
It is unlikely that Mendoza, who is president of both the Historic Bayside Civic Association and the Miami-Dade Young Democrats — who really should call themselves the middle-aged Democrats, but more on that later — will have a primary opponent. He has political consultant Christian Ulvert on his side, which basically means the Florida Democratic Party. He’s also a member of the Miami-Dade Democratic Executive Committee, representing District 11.
And Democrats — still high on the national and state wins Nov. 4 — are already calling HD 113 “flippable.” Oh, and that’s not just whistling a Shakira tune. HD 113 went for Biden by 12 points in 2020. DeSantis only won it by 2. And Democrats say it’s still a D+4 seat on paper.
Mendoza is positioning himself as the candidate for people who can no longer afford their rent, their groceries, or their ZIP code. His announcement reads like a love letter to Miami’s working families.
“Our democracy is at its best when everyday people – those who understand just how impossible it has become to get by in our city – step up to run for office and fight for our community.
I love our community because it gave me the chance to grow and overcome childhood challenges, with love, grit and determination. Like many of us here, I grew up facing poverty, hunger, and housing insecurity. Today, as we all know too well, the crisis of affordability in this state is making the path to prosperity more difficult for all Floridians.
Together, I know we can create a Florida where residents have a chance to own a home, to address poverty and the rising cost of living, and to strengthen local public schools, because every child deserves the right to a strong education.”
He’s talking affordability, environment, schools, safety — the classic Democratic Greatest Hits album, remastered for 2025.
But the race will likely be in 2026.
Read related: Miami-Dade Commissioners silence voters, appoint District 5 replacement
At this very moment, three candidates are campaigning for a race that doesn’t officially exist yet because Florida’s Governor won’t say when the special election is happening.
But that’s not stopping anyone. Republicans smell an easy hold. Democrats smell a surprise flip. And activists smell the chance to annoy Tallahassee for three more months.
What does Ladra smell? Opportunity. Drama. A little self-interest. And a hint of desperation. It’s a delicious aroma.
The district is a weird, beautiful Miami stew — Key Biscayne, the Roads, Brickell, Coconut Grove, Little Havana, and more — and voters there know how to keep things interesting.
So, grab your popcorn. Or your mangos, if you’re Tony Diaz. Because HD 113 is about to be the hottest special election in town — whenever the governor finally decides to calendar it.

If you want more independent, watchdog reporting of county government and local elections, help Ladra with a contribution to Political Cortadito. Click here. Thank you for your support.

The post Three wannabes are vying for House seat 113 — but there’s no election yet appeared first on Political Cortadito.

Read Full Story