Baltimore has two hip hop scenes: there's the Baltimore Club rap scene that's gone to the furthest reaches of hipsterdom and now latches on to everything in it. Blaqstarr, Rye Rye, M.I.A., But Brick City has a second hip hop scene that Williamsburg has yet to adopt. Naturally, it's more interesting, gritty, and authentic one -- one that bred Tupac Shakur (and imported him out to L.A.), one that somehow can't get it together despite tremendous talent. That scene had little to speak for it, until now. The documentary Paused in Time is -- like the scene it covers -- gritty, low budget, and isn't trying hard enough to attract the interest of people who wouldn't know better. That said, it's worth a watch for a peak inside of a world made by fans, for fans.

Most people know Baltimore by way of HBO’s gritty drama The Wire: a rotting playground for corrupt politicians and bloodthirsty gangsters. But Rye Rye (born Ryeisha Berrain), a laid-back rapper with amphetamine rhymes from the city’s hardscrabble east side projects, has nothing but love for her hometown’s spirited club scene. And even though she’ll drop her debut LP this fall, on M.I.A.’s N.E.E.T. label, the 18-year-old music sensation doesn’t intend to leave town any time soon. “I plan on staying with my family for a while,” she says, “while repping that B-more sound.”

These are getaways for lovers -- or lusters -- only, without the family, just-good-friends, kids, laptops (lap dancing and clothing optional) or other encumbrances. Either you want to see and be seen, or you don’t. Whether you’re after an in-room Jacuzzi, couples massages, meals, or just a fireplace and a view, read on.

Pan Deï Palais (Côte d'Azur) - A princess’ historic palace turned boutique hotel in the heart of St. Tropez. With only 12 guestrooms, the palace is exclusively reserved for hotel guests -- so unless the people you’re trying to avoid are staying there, you’re safe. Valmont treatment fit for a princess are available in guestrooms and spa.
Also rans: Château de la Chèvre d’Or, L’Hôtel Du Cap – Eden Roc, La Réserve Ramatuelle.

You can usually find Aaron Lacrate lighting up the 1's and 2's while spinning records in New York City or bragging that Robert Downey Jr. and Robin Williams are sporting his custom-made shirts. As creator of the clothing company Milkcrate NYC, Lacrate has avant-garde couture junkies clamoring to get one of his signature designs. When he’s not dishing out his fashion to the selective circles afforded to browse the goods, the Baltimore-bred DJ is working on building his record label, B-More Gutter World Wide. The label just released the critically acclaimed B-More Club Crack, an album his crew created as a way to allocate the signature sound of Baltimore club music worldwide. Lacrate takes time to discuss his burgeoning empire and why naming his company Milkcrate B-More just didn’t make sense.

It's official: Southwest is coming to New York's LaGuardia and gunning for American and United's business travelers. It's even been called "a full-frontal assault on United Airlines and American Airlines, which have long had a stranglehold on the vast majority of corporate travel to LaGuardia from Chicago." Southwest has taken over the now-defunct ATA's slots in the LaGuardia terminal, making room for seven daily flights with an additional sneaky eighth flight crammed in there outside of regulatory hours ( 7 a.m. to 10 p.m.). The it works is that each slot (of which Southwest will have 14) is good for one takeoff or landing. With 14 slots, Southwest can run 7 round-trip flights a day. Except that Southwest has scheduled their first flight to takeoff before 7 a.m., and their last flight to come in after 10 p.m., which effectively scoots around the regulation times.

Going from the Kentucky Derby to the Preakness Stakes was depressing. At first, anyway. (See our video of the scene.) Baltimore, Maryland's Pimlico Race Track is a ratty, dog-eared venue, down-at-the-heels with the threadbare atmosphere of a gritty OTB. It's always been a no-frills track for the common man. In contrast, Louisville, Kentucky's Churchill Downs is more like a comfortable, prim and proper country club -- an equine Mecca steeped in majestic style. The Downs trumps Pimlico in style, celebrity buzz, and old-boy southern traditions with a generally well-heeled, fairly behaved crowd (except for the infield's Bud Light-and-vomit cache). Pimlico corners the market on permissive weirdness and casual debauchery with a shrugging acceptance of advanced age. After spending an hour in Pimlico's jockey room and prep paddocks (normally off-limits to media) meeting friendly track staff veterans, it was decided: Churchill Downs has an attractive starchy gloss, but Pimlico has soul.

Last Saturday, we attended the 133rd Preakness Stakes at Pimlico Race Track in Baltimore, Maryland. Along with writer John Clarke Jr. (see full report here), we observed, reported, mixed, mingled and sampled Black-Eyed Susans. It was hard not to feel we had entered an alternate universe (think The Wire meets National Velvet). The differences between the two worlds of a Triple Crown horse race and the surrounding circus were staggering. Hit the jump for our video trip through the "Freakness," including local wisdom, impromptu interpretive dance, jockey underwear issues, and shopping cart races.