Category Archives: Personal

And a Cat Named Johnny, Pt. 2

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jessie_lincolnheights
Lincoln Heights, circa 1935

I’ve been looking everywhere for this photo, a few weeks ago I posted a corresponding photo of my great-uncle. Perhaps it’s a coincidence but I came across it this morning. Two years ago today, my beautiful grandmother, Jessie Tellez Garcia passed away.

As for the location, it might be near Eva Terrace. When I asked my great-uncle where the photo was taken, he mentioned a street name I wasn’t familiar with that included the name “Terrace.” I’ve tried researching old Los Angeles maps but with no success.

It seems Johnny the cat was a lazy little fellow because he doesn’t move an inch from photo to photo.

An Eastside Invitation

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eastside_gathering_edit

This bill was found among my father’s old photos. He’s been involved with the Eastside music scene for most of his life. I’m not sure, but it’s possible either he or one of my uncles was playing in one of the bands advertised on the bill. I once asked my uncles to name all the bands they’ve played in and I ran out of space on the piece of paper I was writing on!

One more thing, I have no idea why Mexicans/Chicanos have such a hard time with the proper spelling of the endings “-ing” and “-ght.”

L.A. Gang Tour ~ Empowerment through story

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“We started these problems and it’s going to take us to fix them.” Alfred Lomas of L.A. Gang Tours

Due to some technical difficulties with technology, I’m writing this post through my iPhone, so be patient of minor flaws. More than usual anyway. Thanks to Wendy Carrillo, I was able to attend the L.A. Gang Tour media presentation today to get a better feel for it, which is starting next week. For most of the day I’ve been chewing on the fat of the tour over all and what I want to write and say about it and what is being questioned back and forth. Is this ok? Is it poor people watching? Does the tour suck? Etc.

Before I get into any of that, I wanna share where I’m coming from. I’m an adoptive son of Boyle Heights, but like a promiscuous lover, I’ve been around. A lot of the spots that are in the tour, I spent time there as a kid. Looking out the window crossing Alameda into South Central and Compton took me back to days of future past when I saw those same sights in the back seat of my parents car. I was back in the hood after being gone for so long.

All those memories came back in a rush and I was all smiles. I know what’s up here. I know the tour guide knows his stuff and he’s not selling any bullshit to sensationalize it. This allowed me the opportunity to really listen to what he’s saying. What he wants to accomplish with the tour, what the future may bring and how this is the first step in more monumental actions. Everyone is hung up with the safari/fish bowl aspect of the tour and not listening to his hopes, ideals, vision and most importantly his motivation, which he does through Jesus and the Dream Center. If you want details about how this happened, read DJ’s post or the Times article.

“It’s never about strategies or building funds. It’s always about the people. It’s always about the lives that are being touched. It’s about the individuals who are willing to stand up in these communities.” Lomas

The way I see it, this tour is no different than this very blog that is a tool, a device that allows us to tell our own stories the way we see fit from our individual perspectives. To empower ourselves through our stories, using them and sharing them with others. Fostering ideas and dialogue amongst ourselves, rather than letting others tell our stories in ways that don’t even come close to how it really is. This is what I see this tour doing. They’re former bangers and they know how fucked up the system is, but not only that, they decided to take action.

They want to create sustainability within their own city, not relying on outside help. Creating jobs for kids and most importantly a path to end the cycles that keep snatching others into the La Vida Loca. This is the conclusion I made half way through the tour when we stopped at a church to hear a pastor describe the challenges presented to our communities. The changes in people and him personally learning Spanish and adapting his parish to help folks from the Latino/a community. To bring them in rather than exclude them.

If you wanna know what the tour is about, go and find out for yourself. Because I was part of the media preview, some of the things I saw and heard were catered for media. The tour will be unique to itself. You can call it fucked up and a safari all you want, but that’s not what this tour is about. And if you’re nesio, then fuck off. This tour is about people sharing their stories, history and personal narrative to create positive change in their communities because it takes our own to fix our own.

My rosca miracle

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roscas

I had my communist meeting today, of all days Dia de los Reyes, a day that in the Latino/a community is spent with family to close the holiday celebrations and to enjoy some rosca and chocolate. I didn’t know what time I would get home from my meeting and I didn’t want to miss out on the rosca. Good thing my friend called me last night and suggested I take one to the meeting, we would go half’ers on it. So as I make my way toward the Pavo Bakery on Chavez and Soto I notice that there is a small pile of nothing but roscas sitting on the counter. I look with amazement at their size as the aroma of freshly baked roscas charms me into hunger. At $6.50, I knew a small one would suffice for our meeting considering there won’t be that many of use there. A medium one cost $20 and it’s WAY too big. Too much rosca.

I asked the lady for a small one and she ever so kindly went to the back to look for one. When she came back she told the other ladies at the register that there are only three small rosca left and the other two are reserved. “Should I make sure that the one rosca isn’t reserved for anyone” she exclaimed in spanish. “Si” replied one of the other women. She went to the back and looked again. She told them again that it was in fact the last one and that it didn’t have a name on it. She went to the back one more time and brought the rosca to the counter. A lady next to me quickly looks at the rosca and ask that woman at the counter if she had any more small roscas, “no. That’s the very last one” she said in spanish. We both had a little laugh about me having the last one, I paid and thanked the women at the register. I took the bus to my meeting, said hi to everyone and shared the rosca with them. They loved it.

rosca 2

We used my friends pocket knife, which she previously used to cut aguacate, and tore into that rosca. She was the one to get the baby and I told her it’s an omen. “So does that mean I have to host the party on Feb 2 ?” she asked. “No. I means you’re gonna have a baby” I said. She looks at me with contempt and annoyed and says, “Yeah, like that’ll happen.” True story.

Happy 2010!

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I’m in the midst of writing an end of the year wrap up post but it’s time to go have some fun, ring in the new year and say goodbye to the miserable decade behind us.

So for now, I want to wish all the readers and contributors of LA Eastside a happy and safe new year!

I’d also like to mention, this week we reached a milestone of 10,000 comments – and it seems there is so much more that needs to be said! We’ll be here in 2010 to fulfill all your commenting needs.

Don’t go see Avatar

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All I keep reading on facebook is “have you seen Avatar ? It’s soo good. ” “OMG you gotta go see Avatar, it’s even better in 3-D, truly a great film with a great message to reflect on.” Enough already puez, geez, I get it, it’s a good movie that is exploiting what other movies have done in the past and sensationalized issues about race, nature, militarism and all that good stuff. I haven’t seen the film, so I won’t go into detail about how the movie goes into ” ‘white’ people guilt or how ‘white’ people see racial identity’ ” and all that mumbo jumbo like other people are jumping on. Which I find interesting to read and they do make a point every now and then. No, I am boycotting this movie, at least until it comes out on DVD or cable tv because I have seen other movies do WAY better with less, making the same statements about nature, human relations and some of the other topics people loved in Avatar.

I bring to your attention the works of Hayao Miyazaki. It’s hard to express the passion and love I have for all of his works, mostly because I grew up on some of them and they were my first forays into anime, which it still going strong today. I can go on and on about how all of his movies say more with their endearing characters, beautiful hand drawn scenes that to me will always surpass what ever computer technology can create. These are movies that are from the heart, made with passion and created to astonish and amaze the audience. These movies really do tug at the heart strings and can make almost anyone shed a little tear. Not only that, but these movies are perfect for kids as well. Even his current release, “Ponyo,” which didn’t do great at the box office was nothing short of amazing and captivating. I loved that movie !!! So if you haven’t seen the movie yet, save your money and go rent some of his movies and if you have seen it, then go rent some of his movies anyway. You’ll thank me for it later.

Dirty deeds done dirt cheap

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If I remember correctly, my very first post on this here blog was about a police sobriety check in the heart of Boyle Heights in June of last year. Hmm more than a year later, the economy in Califas is tanking, the city is looking left and right and underneath every couch cushion to save money and bring in more revenue, like raising sales taxes to 9.75 percent and other various  measures. It’s getting tight in this city, real tight. The kind of tight that when I was growing up, frijoles, huevos and tortillas were what’s for breakfast, lunch and dinner, with maybe some queso de piez sprinkled on the beans to add a little variety.

Needless to say, it’s not hard to connect the dots on the current situation out on the streets of L.A. right now, with all these holiday sobriety check points to keep drunk drivers off the streets. This is an invaluable service by the police, however we all know that’s not the case right ? I mean come on !! This is way over the line, even for the L.A.P.D We all expect and know these holiday sobriety checkpoints are around, but as of late, the amount of cars getting pulled over and of these check points is bordering on abuse. Nah, you know what, it is abuse.  “Ohh but you’re just exaggerating because you blah, blah, blah” hell no I’m not exaggerating. Sunday of last week me and VD were kicking old school on our way to the barrio when we see a car pulled over on Sheridan. Then we see another car pulled over two blocks further down and then another car pulled over on Chavez and Soto. Not to mention that I average out one text per day informing me of where there are check points taking place. This isn’t the police checking for drunk drivers and keeping the streets safe, this is the police being abused by the shot callers who need to come up with more feria to cover the cost of their business expenses and trips to Mexico to represent L.A. in a book fair. Really !? A book fair !?

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¡Sounds Like Burning: We’re Going Back! How Far Back? Way Back!

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A few years ago, in San Juan de Pasto, Southern Colombia, I was thrown into the back of a van by some seriously strapped soldiers. They confiscated my camera. Earlier that day I discovered that Colombians were the kindest folk I had ever met, so I wasn’t very worried alone in the back of an unmarked van. I thought of my new friends at the bakery and barbershop as we swerved through the city. For some reason, I was allowed to keep my backpack. I opened it, grabbed my headphones and ipod and Booker White did what he always does.

The van tore through the streets. The suspect in back was moving with Booker: “I was at my mother’s grave, when they put my mother away.” One dark-skinned soldier tapped the other and they turned to look at me. I felt like I was watching something fascinating unfold. Where were we going? What was my crime? Soldiers armed to the gums deemed me a threat with my t-shirt, sandals and scruffy beard. I watched them and hummed a little more. Then we got to the jail.

I was “interrogated” for several hours. My California ID got me free. I walked out of that jail the way I walked in: humming a tune.

Usually I like the sounds of new cities, but at that moment, I wanted something else: I stopped, reached back, got the headphones and Booker T. Washington White. Bruises be damned, there we were, on the streets of Southern Colombia, smiling because… we didn’t need a reason. We never do. I felt like singing. So we did, “I’m a stranger at this place, and I’m looking for my mother’s grave.”

Booker White “Strange Place Blues”
[audio:https://laeastside.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/strangeplaceblues.mp3]

I’m a stranger at this place and I’m lookin’ for my mother’s grave
I’m a stranger at this place and I’m lookin’ for my mother’s grave
Well it seems like to me, ooh ooh well, some of us goin’ to wail
I was at my mother’s grave, when they put my mother away
I was at my mother’s grave, when they put my mother away
And I can’t find no one, ooh ooh well, to take her place
I thought after my mother was put away, I thought my wife would take her place
After my mother was put away, I thought my wife would take her place
I’ll show you the difference ‘tween a mother and a wife, ooh ooh well, my wife done throw my away
I wished I could find someone to take my mother’s place
I wished I could find someone to take my mother’s place
And if I can’t find no one, ooh ooh well, well you’ll find me at her grave
I’m standin’ on my mother’s grave and I wished I could seen her face
I’m standin’ on my mother’s grave and I wished I could seen her face
I’ll be glad when that day comes, ooh ooh well, well when it be to drive me away

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Childhood games

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canicas

Growing up as a kid, I loved playing games with all the other neighborhood kids and more often than not, cousins too. A lot of the games we played are your standard stuff like hide and seek, tag, freeze tag, trompos, canicas, soccer, going on long bike rides around the hood, hitting rocks with a stick, throwing stuff at RTD buses passing by, you know, those kind of games. The ones were all you needed was a bunch of friends and a sunny afternoon. Since we were all from low income families back in the day, course we didn’t know it at the time and speaking for myself, still am, we created our own fun and those were some of the best times I had in my childhood. I was even caught up in the whole pog craze. Then I got swept up in the yo-yo craze tambien. One of the best games I remember playing with my cousins was getting two sticks. A short, thick one and a long skinny one. We would dig a hole in the dirt and place the small stick over the hole. We would then used the longer stick to chuck the short stick as far as we could,  the way you hit a golf ball with a club. The winner was who ever threw it the fardest. We had some good times playing with two sticks and a hole in the dirt. So, I wanna know what games you guys/gals played when you were a kid. Was it made up ? Did someone get hurt from the game ? Were you emotionally scarred for life like I was when you were picked last at everything because everyone thought you’d suck, but then you’d be the one kicking ass ? Do you even remember how to play those games ? (cause god knows I can’t remember how to play canicas anymore) Have you taught your kids, nephews and god children to play those same games ? Dime… AND please keep any crazy stories about playing house and doctor to yourself, this is a family site. Unless they’re really good, then please share them by all means 🙂

Pedro Pans

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Recently I was advised to detach myself from the issues and dramas of this reality and focus on my higher self in order to evolve.
Ok what does that mean?
Don’t sweat the little stuff? What is the little stuff? Is paying my bills little stuff?
Is being responsible with my time and making sure my mind is not always on my money and my money doesn’t take over my mind, or something like that?

Then the other day I was riding with a homegirl and she started telling me about a friend who is not responsible at all. He is into his 40s, keeps getting younger and dumber girlfriends that last less time than the last one, and basically doesn’t give a f@#$. She called him a PETER PAN.  Funny thing is two years ago I began writing a piece about Peter Pans in my life.

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Resistance Is Fertile: Over Their Heads And Far Away

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I saw a clip of this “event” in Minneapolis with some yahoo teabagger saying, “This is not racism. It’s about the rule of law.” They still think that shit flies, like some 1950’s sheriff in Southern Ole Miss. When you hear “the rule of law,” you better protect your gonads, hold on to your wallet and hide the kids. Spewing fake christian platitudes means somebody gonna get crucified and it’s usually one of a darker hue.

I read about “Robert Erickson” and his “speech” and immediately thought of John Brown and Richard Pryor. That’s how my brain malfunctions. This “performance” is high larry us. Downtown Freddie Brown, Snooky Pryor, anybody with Brown skin or anybody with priors would laugh.

This “current wave of immigrant bashing…” I always like that “current wave” idea. This “wave” is going on half a millenium. No shit it’s current, cuz it ain’t never abated. “Erickson” ain’t Frederick Douglass 1852 throwing down about the 4th of July or Thoreau defending John Brown’s honor 1859, but we in the age of diminishing vocabulary, and while pranking a “crowd” of “European immigrants,” he did fine (despite the bad recording). The lack of cheers when fools realize they’ve been duped is invigorating, especially when dealing with a bunch of clowns. Cheers from those who, when not referring to an athletic competition, see “race” as a verb and not a noun. “Columbus Go Home.” Resistance is Fertile!

Here is the end of his speech:

I say it’s time for us to say enough is enough! Are you with me? Are you with me? Let’s send these European immigrants back where they came from! I don’t care if they are Polish, Irish, English, Italian, or Norwegian! European immigrants are responsible for the most violent and heinous crimes in the history of the world, including genocide and slavery! It’s time to restore the sovereignty of people native to this land!
I want more workplace raids, starting with the big banks downtown. There are thousands of illegals working in those buildings, hiding in their offices, and taking Dakota jobs. Let’s round them up and ship them out. Then we need to hit them at home where they sleep. I don’t care if we separate families, they should have known better when they came here illegally! (editor note: i think i pissed my pants!)
If we aren’t able to stand up to these European immigrants, who can we stand up to? We need to send every one of them back home, right now.
Thank you very much, and we’ll see you in the streets!
Columbus Go Home! Columbus Go Home! Columbus Go Home!

Here is the complete text of his “speech.”