The Price of Beer

As a 20-year-old coed at UCSD the newness of each day as an adventure, still had its momentum. The first female in my family to go to college, to move out at 18-years-old was at once my second-generation-immigrant family’s dream and nightmare. My first year of away-from-home loneliness was defeated by my freedom. I sucked it up, and watched other ingénues file out one by one—until there was 1 Chicana for every 17 Chicanos in my class of 100 in a sea of 7000 students. Freedom meant learning to think and speak critically, handling finances, self-management, validating my culture, being creative, making wise choices, defining myself and not appearing to have been too sheltered by my Christian-freak family.

Being away from family also gave the freedom to live completely bacchanalian, if one chose it. It was an undergraduate rite of passage “to thy own-self be true” and part of the experience needed on the road to where you were headed. By the time some of my high school friends became freshmen, I was their mentor and resolver of all acculturating problems.

I’m not sure how the situation came about–my high school friend Danny taunting me into asking Jose a 22-year old senior to buy us beer, because we were too young. I was uncomfortable, knowing that I would owe Jose some favor that I could not pay back—because he was obviously interested in me. The night ride down Torrey Pines Road in the back of a dark VW bus with Jose and my napping, assigned-sentry Raul, with John as shot-gun and Danny driving, seemed excruciatingly long. Occasionally Danny would pull back the blue Hawaiian print curtain that divided the cab from the carpeted surf den to say, “Is everything ok back there?” followed by a wink and grin at me. He knew I went reluctantly and this was his silly gesture to make light of it, while protecting my honor. Continue reading

Undocumented and Living in Alabama

Victor Palafox is a 19 year old, undocumented resident of Alabama, pre/post HB 56. He was interviewed by dreamers adrift, a collective that documentes the undocumented, in Dallas, Texas a few weeks ago. In this candid interview, Victor describes what it’s like to live in the south, what it means to be undocumented there, how the community has changed for the worse and what the future holds.

Ride-In to the Movies on August 20

This Saturday night, August 20, you are invited to take a bike, a skateboard, roller skates, a wheelchair, a grocery cart or scooter ride to the movies for a fun interactive double feature Eastside style.

Two cult classic R rated screenings of Hollywood’s interpretation of gang life–Eastside to Westside are the evenings offerings. (Note: Kids should be accompanied by their adult.)


The Warriors (1979, directed by Walter Hill) – A gang called The Warriors are framed for killing a gang leader who was trying to unite all the gangs in New York City. With other gangs gunning for them they must get back to the home turf of Coney Island-alive!  (Luther) “There he is! That’s him! That’s… the Warrior! He shot Cyrus!” (Cleon) “Man, you crazy! I din’t do nuthin’!”   Starring Michael Beck, James Remar and Dorsey Wright.



Boulevard Nights (1979, directed by Michael Pressman) – One night Raymond takes Chuco with him to pick up Raymond’s girlfriend, Denise “Shady” Landeros and cruise the “boulevard”: a main drag in East L.A. which becomes an impromptu car show every weekend where young Hispanics show off their lowriders . Shady lives in a housing project in East L.A. with her family and works as a secretary for a business office in downtown Los Angeles. Shady has dreams of upward mobility and, because of this, tries to disassociate herself from barrio life. She wants Raymond to do the same but Raymond loves lowriding and is proud of his barrio roots. Starring:  Richard Yniguez, Danny De La Paz, Carmen Zapata and Marta DuBois

Bring a blanket, pillow and/or lawn chair for these outdoor screenings.  Snacks and drinks will be available for purchase. Starts at 8 pm and ends at 12 am. Price: donation

Self Help Graphics & Art
1300 East First Street
Boyle Heights, CA 90033

Chilenismos

A fellow artist and friend started a blog with her brother called Fundi2.  Its a new go-to place for the Los Angeles Chilean community.  They plan on interesting POVs, cultural gathering info and related political discussions. Interesting to see how our worlds collide in a city where everyone is trying to find their voice and place.

Notes from the Boyle Heights Wastelands

This week the spin doctors were working overtime to make Michelle Obama look like a hypocrite for eating a burger and fries, because it registered at 1700 calories!! One of her personal campaigns is to have healthier food in public school cafeterias and food programs. Who’s not for that? Back to the calories though– for some women a whole day’s intake of calories could be 2000 or around that (yes, that’s 3 meals) and the amount needed just to maintain the same weight, not to loose or gain. Gender, age, activity and some doctors think ethnicity, determine how many calories an individual should eat.

Being a vegetarian for decades now, I have had run-ins with long lost friends at the super market whose eyes sadden upon spotting meat in my cart. I don’t need to explain that my cat is on an organic food diet and eats ground turkey or that I make beef tamales and chicken mole for my brother on his birthday —but I do. I practically live like a monk, because I have lived in a certain way and people expect that from me— I expect that from me. I really don’t ram my personal rules down anyone’s throat and those of you who think I do —“you really wouldn’t want to know what goes on in my head”. Still, there are some hardships to being a role model, even if it’s by accident, like me. I would not trade places with someone in the microscopic public eye, like poor Michelle.

We all know that Boyle Heights and some other communities on the eastside are considered to be food deserts, because there are not enough super markets to supply us with nutritious and healthy foods. If you’ve ever tried to get into El Super at 6 p.m. on any day—you know what I mean. Forget about getting a healthy vegetarian choice at any of the local restaurants either. It’s all about the queso. There are many people that have poor diets in the food dessert (due to lack of availability), they are considered to be malnutrition. But, even if we live in a food desert, we can make choices that are healthy instead of giving into the “high profits and low product” American food cartels. People who use grocery coupons to make ends meet can easily fall into the pit of foods that have absolutely no nutritional value. Think about it—why would a manufacturer give you something free? Usually, it is for a new product and it reminds me of the drug dealers (in those 80s movies) that get you hooked on cheba by giving you freebies at first. Beware of those coupons.
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I (heart) Carmageddon!!

A few years back when we had the Day without a Mexican in LA (May Day Immigration March) with a million strikers marching down Wilshire Blvd, a westsider said to me that they loved being able to get to all their appointments on time that day.  There was no traffic.

Well, today I can relate to that.  I made it from Boyle Heights to the Fairfax exit in 15 minutes!! Woo hoo!!  I think I broke the mythical record of “Everything in LA being 20 minutes away”.

Also I love the Metro’s advice to westsiders “Plan ahead, avoid the area or stay home.”  LOL!

Mandatory 10


Recently I had my car worked on— a strange and expensive malfunction that was not my fault and (thank God) still covered under my warranty.  On the third week of being at the repair shop (a week longer than they had estimated), I called to find out what was going on and when my car would be ready.  Emphasis on “I called them”—even though they had promised to call me.  The shop manager was very cordial, explained that my warranty would cover the mega expense, that I now had a ‘brand new’ car in an older body and that I could pick it up that afternoon.  Urgh—the fool knew I was anxious to get my car back, especially when a 3-day weekend was coming up in a day. My thoughts of why he didn’t call me sooner, why he underestimated the time it would take to fix,  why he kept me on pins and needles regarding how much my warranty would cover dissipated when I knew I could pick up my car.  Yay!

The shop manager ended our phone conversation (in an overly saccharine tone) with the news that I would be receiving a service survey from his corporate headquarters to complete and asked if I would give him the highest marks of 10 for his great service.  I said “uh, sure”.  When I picked up my car and the manager gave me the skippin’ &  a’hummin’  walk to my car (including opening the driver’s door for me), he again mentioned the survey and that “10s would be the only acceptable marks” I could give.   I said “uh hum”.
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There is no such thing as bad coffee

Coffee is the alpha and the omega of my day.

Just as red or white wines go with different types of meat, there are certain foods that require a cup of coffee. My brother’s mouth waters when he talks about Colorado Donuts’ excellent buttermilk donuts with their drip coffee—heaven for less than $2. This is one of his early morning pit stops. I like the 7-11 coffee with steamed milk from their hot chocolate machine. I discovered this after experimenting with all the extras they offer –from chocolate powder to a splash of hazelnut liquid. These additives were all too much for me, but the steamed milk—ahhh, perfect. Oh and you can prepare your coffee on the spot just like you want it, mixing, adding, starting over, until you got it right. I pick up the pots and take a whiff of its contents to see if I might want to try something infused—but no, its always the regular coffee for me.

Homegirl Café, The Pantry, Phillippe’s, Nick’s Café, The Brite Spot and Rinconcito del Mar are my neighborhood breakfast places, each with their own particular great morning brew. At Rinconcito coffee is served with warm pan dulce made on the premises. No fancy espresso machines in these places, just a basic and delicious cup of joe. What would a Noah’s breakfast bagel be without their special aromatic dark and delicious hot offering? There is nothing like it.
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