HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY

On this Mother’s Day, I want to honor and thank my “Ma” for raising me as she did.

Yes, my Dad also had a hand in our upbringing, but Mom was the strongest overall influence on my life. Whether the job she did was good or bad is irrelevant as far as I’m concerned. What matters most is that I am who I am today, because of her, and I’m OK with it.

Even though my brothers and I may now possibly carry untold amounts of dysfunctional baggage from growing up in our House of Horrors, I am nevertheless grateful that it was never so bad that we couldn’t survive it and still make somewhat decent lives for ourselves. We all managed, for the most part, to stay clear of jails, skid row, asylums and deportations, so as they say, that can’t be all bad.

So Mom, as your oldest son, these are my thanks to you, for all the special things you do. Happy Mother’s Day.

Your Son,

Al Desmadre

THANK YOU, MOM, FOR ALL THESE SPECIAL MOMENTS, FROM MY CHILDHOOD THROUGH MY TEEN YEARS:

  • Never sparing “The Chancla
  • For the daily ritual of slathering my face with Pond’s Cream and my hair with “Tres Flores”.
  • For becoming completely unreachable whenever your “Novelas” were on.
  • Going to my school Parent/Teacher Conferences and nodding your head affirmatively to everything my teachers said to you even though you didn’t understand a damned thing they were saying in English. And even though they had said I was a good student, once we got home, you still gave me my Nalgadas, Chanclazos, & Whoopings –just in case.
  • Telling all of your relatives and acquaintances, and even strangers on the streets, about all my personal problems. I’m sure that Lady you met at JonSon’s Market was very sympathetic when you informed her that you had so much trouble buying me pants that I could fit into.
  • Throwing away my entire toy collection, which has now cost me thousands of dollars to replace from Ebay.
  • Pounding on my bedroom door at night during my teenage make-outs sessions, and loudly informing that “Little Puta” I had in there, that this house was not a “Pinchi Motel!”
  • Hiding my car keys, for the Hell of it.
  • Answering the phone with: “NO ESTA!” whenever any chicks called for me.
  • Knowing precisely at what time I got home last night, and every night. “Llegaste a las 3:54:32 am, Pacific Standard Time, Cabron!”
  • Spying out the back window for the entire duration of any backyard house parties I threw, then giving me a complete play-by-play the next morning. You always claimed that you couldn’t get any sleep at all. Of course not, because you were SPYING OUT THE WINDOW ALL NIGHT! My Dad would then add the obligatory, “The authorities will come take our house away because of all the DROGADICTOS you had here last night!”
  • Insisting that no phone call should have to last anymore than 30 seconds.
  • Filling my teen life with every miserable restriction possible, then letting my younger brothers completely get away with murder when they became teenagers.

 

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About AlDesmadre

Al Guerrero, Artist/Humorist. Los Angeles, CA. Born in Ciudad Juarez, Chihuahua, Mexico and raised in East Los Angeles from the age of two, Al Guerrero grew up just steps from the famous Chicano strip, Whittier Boulevard. His youth experiences include witnessing and participating in the 1970 Chicano Power demonstrations, cruising cars on Whittier Boulevard, and graduating from Garfield High School. After dropping out of UCLA (with honors), he drew upon his lifelong passion for art and cartooning and pursued a career in graphic arts. During this period, he traveled overseas and found artistic inspiration from the masterworks he discovered within the European Art Museums. His career blossomed when he was eventually hired by the Walt Disney Company in 1995, where he worked as a creative artist for a number of years. Although the artistic work was rewarding, he eventually grew weary & disillusioned with the bureaucracy of the entertainment business, and left to work briefly in the educational field. His credits include producing a feature film with actor, Conrad Brooks of Ed Wood fame, founding and performing with the Punk Rock group “The Psychocats” at numerous L.A. & Hollywood venues during the 1990’s, and in 1999 he founded and created a hell-bent puppet cabaret show aptly named: “The Puppets from Hell”. As a long time active member of the Los Angeles Cacophony Society, Al “Quaeda”, as he was known, was involved in countless Cacophony Society pranks and events throughout the city. He also produced the “Incredibly Strange Cinema” cult film series as well as themed events such as the now infamous “Pornothon Movie Nights” and the satirical “Mexican Night: Noche De Tequila & Putas” shows at local nightclub venues. Throughout his art career, he has exhibited his canvas paintings at various local galleries, and has also written & illustrated numerous comic strips and Graphic Novel stories. Today, he lives in Silver Lake, California and works as a freelance artist and writer with numerous multi-media projects under his belt and in the works. His personal hobbies include collecting vintage toys and comic books, cinema history and Los Angeles City history. Contact: alguerrero@earthlink.net Al Guerrero P.O. Box 29697 Los Angeles, CA 90029-0697 www.alguerrero.com Myspace.com/thepuppetsfromhell

8 thoughts on “HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY

  1. “I’m sure that Lady you met at JonSon’s Market was very sympathetic when you informed her that you had so much trouble buying me pants that I could fit into.”

    My mom *still* does this kinda thing! Another hilarious post, Al!

  2. This is hilarious. I can’t relate completely because, naturally, my mom treated the boys differently than the girls. Oh, and my mom NEVER employed a chancla as a disciplinary mechanism. Now, a belt? For sure.

    Man, I still remember the time she asked why I was crying. The chillona six-year old me — as opposed to the 20-something chillona me — told her, “because you hurt my feelings.” She almost laughed.

  3. “Esa” didn’t even have to be in the house to be called “la puta”. Se enoja la madre cada vez que “esa” llama.

    Great post!

  4. Great graphic to go with that post! My mom didn’t use the chancla (much). She used psychological torture instead. Esa mirada could freeze you in your tracks and even end the urge to pee when visiting elderly relatives or acquaintances.

    But thank the goddess for her sense of humor. Today we tease her mercilessly, even as she feigns no recall of some of her antics. Like the time she scrounged around the basement for yard sale items to help make ends meet. She came upstairs wearing my dad’s old Marine Corps boots and said, “Miren todavia estan buenas. No las quieren?” I can’t remember who got it our first, but we laughed so hard at “Your mama wears army boots!” Good times.

  5. My personal favorites, the smiling face she was able to display while putting items onto the counter at the grocery store as she used her free hand to pinch us out of misbehavior and her incredible ability to understand every word I spoke to my teen-aged friends even though she didn’t understand any English at any other point during the day.

  6. Great post Al! My mom was very fond of the belt as a form of corrective therapy. The worst part though was that she would make you go and get it (traeme el cinto!) and that long walk to the closet door and back gave you enough time to contemplate your maldad, and maybe even to start yer crying. Ahh, precious memories.

  7. We liked to hide our Mom’s favorite whooping chanclas, or whatever “Weapons of Mass Chingazos” she preferred to use that week. Once, my aunt was going to give
    my cousin a whooping so she sent him outside to find a good stick or branch she could use. He decided to be a “wise ass” and came back the littlest twig he could find.
    I pitied that fool on that day. He got a good laugh from me, but he paid dearly for his insolence! Yes, …good times….

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