Is it tomorrow yet? Yeah, I was hoping to post these earlier pero que se le va hacer, I’m not racing against some clock. We try to get posts up here regularly but you know, people gotta do stuff. Besides, even if its a week late, where else would you find these fine videos (and a few pics) from East of the river? I thought so.

Click ahead to see que paso!

Don’t really have much of a wrap up for the “Where You From?” event, just these two video clips and some pics. In an old borracho bar by Mariachi Plaza on 1st (near Apaches),  Eastside Luv didn’t seem like a wine bar at all, not that I would know what that looks like. They’re obviously going for a more upscale/club look, with the pricey beers to accompany that whole meaningless lifestyle that isn’t really my thing, but whatever, I guess some people are into that. There are far worse places like The York and The Cave, so I’ll just put aside my hating for another time. But the straps and bars for dancers (sorry for the bad pic) should tell you something about something.

After Dewey’s piece, this poem by Rafael  Cardenas was my next favorite for it’s matter-of-factness. Straight talk for the LA newbies; just because you are not aware of us, doesn’t mean we are not here!

Some T&A music between the poetry. That’s what they call themselves, according to the flyer. And just so you know, the T is Teresa Covarrubias of the well known East Los punk band The Brat.

The crowd was your typical Eastside mix of the so-called Ethnics with a sprinkling of a few humans in that assumed “default” setting. Plus some crazy beer drinking Picachu with a mad sneer.

Linda Gamboa had an entertaining piece, though I missed the first few lines but at least got my camera working to capture some old chola in the audience yelling to the crowd to SHUT UP! The Eastside, where passive-aggressive is replaced by plain ol’ aggressive. You gotta laugh.

Ruben Guevara had some words for the crowd. He knows a thing or two about Los Angeles.

A still from Dewey’s piece, man in action.

Will those that insist on taking our name and pushing us off the map be impressed by these poems and acts of micro-resistance? What will become of the jotted notes of the LA Times reporter that was making the rounds? How will this event be portrayed in the books yet to be written once our Eastside Reclamation Assault Force has swayed the Cartographers and Historians of the future to see things properly? I don’t want to spill the beans but something tells me that the Eastside, past, present, and future, is here to stay.

That’s all I have to report. Por ahorita.