A graduate of North Miami Beach High School (and Columbia Law School) who now lives in Broward, 46-year-old Brad Meltzer is best-known for his political thrillers like The Tenth Justice (about secrets at the U.S. Supreme Court) and The Inner Circle (about a still-active spy ring started by George Washington). Former Presidents Bill Clinton and George W. Bush are fans and have even helped him do research. Meltzer has made the New York Times bestseller list more times than we can count — not just for his novels but also for nonfiction, advice, children's books, and even comic books. Although the baldheaded smarty pants has also hosted two TV series — Decoded and Lost History — it seems he'll never stop banging away on his word processor. His latest offering, The President's Shadow, mined his home turf, setting part of the story on the Dry Tortugas, a small group of islands that are part of Key West, to which in the 1800s four of the conspirators behind Abraham Lincoln's assassination were sentenced.

There is a freedom that drag queens have that the rest of us simply don't — at least not without a properly boozy happy hour. The glamour, the glitter, and the glitz allow certain men, regardless of size, to transform themselves into daring divas dripping in confidence. Over the years, Lips in Fort Lauderdale and its unique brand of dinner theater has brought us a tremendous amount of over-the-top joy. That comes thanks in part to one gentle giant, the soft-spoken but never shy Chocolatta. Johnnie Bowls, the man behind the mascara, is a professionally trained actor from Kansas City. He got his BFA in acting from Marymount Manhattan College, and his lengthy résumé includes teaching and stints on stage performing everything from A Raisin in the Sun to Othello. Perhaps it's these past experiences that afford Bowls, in his Chocolatta persona, the poise to command a room of drunken bachelorettes, regardless of the situation. For example, imagine a drag queen accidentally has his wig fly off after a devastating hair whip. That would break the spell for most, but not for Chocolatta. He took that very same scenario and owned it. The crowd loved him all the more for it, as he strutted, all six feet, three inches of him, in heels, across the dining room as if everything had gone according to plan.

Readers' choice: Daisy Deadpetals

Proving there are ample ways to define the phrase "no-brainer," Broward County decriminalized marijuana last November. Though the county can't make the drug legal (that power rests with the state and federal governments), the County Commission unanimously voted to let cops choose whether to issue citations or make criminal arrests in certain pot possession cases. Now, it's possible that instead of being hauled off to jail for a wee bit of ganja, nonviolent offenders just open up their checkbooks and pay: $100 for a first offense, $250 for a second, and $300 for a third.

In the spring of 2015, when Bernie Sanders' candidacy was but a gleam in left-wing eyes, Hillary Keyes was on the case in Palm Beach County, drawing the faithful together under the banner of Progressive Democrats of America. She put meat on the notion's bones, troops on the ground, and cash in the drawer. Working outside the Vermont senator's national organization and in the face of an indifferent Palm Beach County Democratic Party (its leadership having been Clintonized), Keyes organized backyard and living-room meetings that snowballed into a volunteer corps of phone bankers, two "Bands for Bernie" benefit concerts, and other outreach efforts. How did Bernie do in the mid-March Florida Democratic Primary? Lost to Hillary Clinton two-to-one. Did more than half a million Floridians support a Jewish, atheist, socialist for president? Yes, they did. For your share in that miracle, take a bow, Ms. Keyes.

Eleanor Sobel spent much of this past year doing what few Florida politicians seem willing or able to do: defending abortion providers. In a year when Gov. Rick Scott, Voldemort incarnate himself, signed a bill to defund Planned Parenthood, Sobel stood strong and tried to amend the bill to save funding for those who'd become pregnant by rape or incest. (She was effectively booed from the floor and withdrew the amendment.) In addition, Sobel pushed hard for — and eventually got — money to hire 160 new mental-hospital employees in a state that may have the most dangerous mental wards in the nation. Oh, and she took some time to repeal that silly law that made it illegal for unmarried couples to live together. Here's to cohabitation!

LaGrone earned her platitudes this year for putting together a series of stories that included one thing absent from most TV newsreels: nuance. Working in tandem with the Palm Beach Post, WPTV's LaGrone studied every shooting by Palm Beach County cops since 2000. Even in today's post-Ferguson world, the results were shocking: Deputies were cleared of wrongdoing in a whopping 97 percent of fatal shootings. Investigations, the report said, are geared, from the start, to favor police. Objective evidence, like videos or key witness testimony, is routinely ignored. But the package was also remarkable for the breadth and scope of its video content: In one harrowing clip, Vincent Tuzeo, the last Palm Beach County Police officer to be charged with shooting a civilian (in 1993), stares at the ground as he apologizes for killing a man. "Do I regret it?" he says. "No. Am I sorry? Of course. Who wouldn't be sorry for taking somebody's life? You can't not be sorry."

It's hard to believe, but Fox Sports Sun's Eric Reid has been calling the Miami Heat's play-by-play action since 1988. He's become our very own Vin Scully. You simply can't watch a local Heat game without Reid's voice calling the action. It's just a part of life. Reid, known for his staccato cadence, his sharp suits, and his "Kaboom!" catch phrase after every made Miami three-point shot, has established himself as a local institution. Over the years, he has worked Heat games with basketball giants such as Dr. Jack Ramsay, Mike "The Czar" Fratello, and Ed Pinckey. In recent years, Reid has teamed up with former Heat Assistant Coach Tony Fiorentino as his color commentator, forming a likable odd-couple dynamic that makes Heat broadcasts must-watch TV. And this year, the franchise celebrated Reid when he called his 2,000th game — a milestone that's become more and more rare in a time when giant sports networks like ESPN and NBC are snatching up talent and plugging them into their nationally televised games. Eric Reid is ours. And he's gunning for 3,000 games. That's a lot of "Kabooms!"

You know those Twitter memes that make you laugh, then blow up by being shared 1.4 thousand times and get retweeted with commentary like "I'm dead fam!" and "Who did this??" Chances are that a good number of those memes were created by @DanGnajerle. Only you don't know it. Because most of his memes have been stolen and co-opted by other Twitter users passing them off as their own. When LeBron James broke the Miami Heat's single-game scoring record, @DanGnajerle pasted a goofy LeBron face onto the iconic Wilt Chamberlain 100 points picture. The meme was then shared more than 2,000 times. When the Mets lost the World Series last October, @DanGnajerle Photoshopped the infamous "Crying Jordan Face" onto the Mets' home-run apple. This got more than 5,000 retweets, and the meme even got a mention on CNN. Every single time, @DanGnajerle was never given the proper credit. But here we are, giving credit where credit is due. Some of Twitter's best memes are coming from a local guy named Danny who loves the Miami Heat, the Teenage Ninja Turtles, and Full House and goes by the name @DanGnajerle. Give him a follow. And when he tweets out a meme that you find amusing, hit the retweet button, for Pete's sake.

Producing a radio show might seem like a cakewalk when you have on-air talent as strong as sports journalist Dan LeBatard and his cohort, Jon "Stugotz" Weiner. Really, though, the sports-talk biz is crazy competitive, and as the hosts improvise and adjust their patter, curve ball after curve ball is thrown in producer Mike Ryan's direction on an hourly basis. Yet he consistently gets a bat on the ball and knocks it completely out of the park. He jumps on air, managing to function both as the young guy and the voice of reason. He sings parody songs, butts into conversations at the right time, and perfectly represents the bipolar Miami Heat fan. Sure, the hosts are great — but this sports radio show wouldn't be the same without this particular producer.

Between 2005 and 2010, when Channing Crowder was busting skulls for the Miami Dolphins as their middle linebacker, fans knew he was a character. Crowder's stint with the Fins was a brief one, but he left a lasting impression as a guy who would mix it up by getting under the skin of the opposing players, plus give the media a crazy postgame sound bite. His inability to filter himself turned into highly entertaining radio interviews, during which he revealed that he used to urinate in his pants during games and gave nebulous accounts of possibly selling football jerseys while in college. This led to good things for fans in Crowder's post-NFL career as 560 WQAM's nuttiest sports-talk personality — first as a midday host of his own show and now as the third man on Marc Hochman's afternoon-drive show. Crowder has made QAM must-listen radio, as he spouts off his opinions on pretty much everything under the sun and regales listeners with goofy stories from his playing days. All in all, Crowder the man remains the same. He's as funny, crazy, and unpredictable as ever, which is why he's the best thing going on local AM radio.

Readers' choice: Steve O & Rene