The Mexican and the U.S. national teams played a World Cup qualifying match in Mexico City on Sunday and I have to say that El Gigante Aun No Esta Muerto! I was born in the U.S. and I have lived here for most of my life but I still root for the Mexican national team. I was extremely disappointed in the paisanos for their asinine chants of “Osama, Osama.” What the hell does that have to do con el fútbol?!? Bola de cabrones siempre la riegan para todos los demás. One thing is to boo the national anthem (it happens every time…even in Fresno when Chivas and America came to town) and another is to chant for Osama. I know that politics are intertwined into everything especially when it comes to U.S./Mexico relations. There truly is a dislike (but at the same time love of all things American) of the United States by Mexicans and Latin Americans in general. It is inevitable that Mexico and Latin America take out their frustrations on the yanquis on the soccer field. Too bad all conflicts can’t be resolved con el fútbol.
What Mexicans hate about the U.S.:
U.S. Invasion of Mexico
The U.S. stranglehold over their country (economically and politically)
Having to leave their country to work in another that rejects and scapegoats them.
Cultural corruption
The numerous American interventions in Mexico and Latin America.
I really didn’t make much of this issue because it’s not the first time that it has happened. The same thing happened in Guadalajara last year in a “Sub-23″ game between the U.S. and Mexico. Then again, what do you expect when its commonplace for “Sam’s Army” (U.S. soccer fans) to chant “Remember the Alamo.” Bringing up the Alamo is not the best way to create good sportsmanship que no?
By the way, Mexico beat the U.S. 2-1.
Happy Easter to all! Today is the day of the cascarones! I wonder who will be my first victim today? Who will be the first to get an egg shell filled with confetti cracked on their noggin? (It’s good luck you know!) I love these tradiciones Mexicanas! Here is the quick history lesson. During the French Intervention in Mexico la loca de Carlota brought these cascarones from Europe to Mexico. Marco Polo had first stolen this idea from his visits to China where they were filled with talc and other not fun stuff. Well, as Mexicans (and Chicanos) we despise the French for their intervention and we hail to Benito Juarez and Porfirio Diaz (Later we hate Don Porfirio…but that’s neither here nor there) for defeating the French. Anyhow, you would never know that there was a slight cultural contribution to Mexico as a result of “Emperor Maximilian” coming to Mexico de vacaciones. Thanks Carlota for bringing these huevitos to Mexico.
First off I would like to apologize to all that have visited my blog. I decided to make the jump from blogger to wordpress for several reasons but mostly because all the cool people do it. I kid. The real reason is that I hate being dependent on blogger.com. Sometimes the comments are not working or I cannot post or whatever. So yesterday I spent like what seemed to be an eternity making the switch. The actual installation was not a problem and I was able to easily transfer all my archives from blogger to wordpress. What I didn’t know was going to happen, and I should have researched this, was that I lost all the comments made by fellow readers. That really sucks! If I would have known that was going to happen I would have never made the switch. I apologize to everyone that has left a comment on my humble blog.
We packed up Lety and Eliseo’s Suburban and took off on a five hour drive to Las Vegas on Saturday. It was great. I can’t believe that I am saying that especially after all that was spent but what can you expect.
Saturday was a fight night (Morales vs. Pacquiao) so the strip was more livelier than usual. After going through the difficult and long ordeal of checking-in which of course has to do with the fact that it was a fight night/weekend/the beginning of spring break we took off to eat at some Excalibur show which was a somewhat improved version of Medieval Times. Either way it was a stinker. They could have at least given us pizza or something. Instead they started us off with dragon fire soup and then a main course of what seemed to be duck. The stranger part was that they do not believe in eating utensils so you have to eat with your hands in order to live the medieval experience. What’s next? Do we have to kill our crappy food also?
Anyhow, after that we explored the strip a bit and to conclude the night we visited Rumjungle at Mandalay Bay. This club was “tight”. On the outside it has waterfall walls and in the inside go-go dancers all over the place. Better yet the bar was decorated with mountains of bottles of you know what. All in all it was a bit of a drain on the wallet especially taking into consideration that I am still a bum student-teacher. I would ordinarily say who in hell wants to pay 8 bolivares for a brewski, or ten bolivares for a shot of Cazadores? Well in this case I have to say it was well worth it.
The rest of the weekend was spent visiting most of the major casinos. I was especially impressed with the Bellagio. I had no idea that they redesign their gardens every so often. It was very nice. On Sunday night we also “experienced” the revamped Treasure Island show. It was well…not very suitable for kids and not worth the hour wait. On Monday we spent some time visiting the Forum shops at Caesar’s. It was especially cool to meet Joel “El Tiburon” Sanchez (a former Chivas de Guadalajara player) at the Kenneth Cole store.
Overall the trip was great fun.
One of my all time favorite bands is Caifanes now know as Jaguares. The first time I was exposed to Caifanes was in the summer of 1995. I left “Porosville” which is the Mexican pronunciation of Porterville. Even the Porterville cholos refer to the town as POROS but I digress. This is the same year that I decided that I would become a doctor at the U de G (Universidad de Guadalajara). Well that dream never came to fruition because my parents demanded that I come back home before the first day of school at Porterville College back in the states but that is neither here nor there. Anyhow, back to the story. Thanks in great part to my cousin Jose “El Pollo” who introduced me to great Mexican bands like Caifanes and Maná (In Mexico everyone has a nickname or apodo. A mi me apodaron “El Bofo”). I remember asking him what Caifanes meant and he had no idea. It wasn’t until ten years later that I found out that Caifanes has a Chicano/Mexican-American connection. It turns out that the band Caifanes really liked the Spanglish phrase meant for the ladies “Que Fine Es!” So one of the best Mexican bands of all time named themselves Caifanes after a Spanglish phrase. It’s been several years since Caifanes became Jaguares but I still find the story very interesting.
After a rough day of student-teaching sometime last week I mentioned to Noni that I really wanted to get drunk this weekend. I had completely forgotten that I had even said this and so last night nos fuimos de parranda with Nilsa and Israel in the city of Tulare. Keep in mind that unlike city folk who have the luxury of many bars and clubs and who knows what throughout their metropolis those of us that live in the central valley are deprived of much night life. It seems as though as soon as a location becomes the in-spot it is closed down for a number of reasons.
Pues por fin me toco una buena borrachera. Ya tenia mucho tiempo que no “tragaba mierda” como decía mi tatarabuela, que detestaba a los que tomaban licor. Pues me la pase como dice mi padrino Pedro Infante “copa tras copa, botella tras botella.” Por lo regular casi no tomo mucho pero Israel insistía y insistía (he’s trying to get me back for getting him messed up on 7 leguas last year) y pues como un buen jalisciense no me se rajar.
Why I am talking about this I have no idea.
By the way, there are more cows than people here in Tulare County and California cows don’t have it better than Wisconsin cows. Many cities of Tulare County literally smell like cow crap throughout the year. Its funny how the Got Milk people or the California Cheese or whoever those fools are, try to make it seem like cows in California are free to wander and eat in beautiful green fields when in reality they are fenced off and basically live on top of their own shit. As it is cows are pumped up with hormones and steroids and who knows what else. Is all this really necessary?
When I first listened to Green Day’s Dookie back in high school I was blown away. After getting caught up with the sounds of bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam and the Smashing Pumpkins I gave up on gangsta rap (It does suck that it wasn’t until after Kurt Cobain committed suicide that I listened to Smells like Teen Spirit). After the movements bottom fell out it seemed like many of the pioneering bands of the alternative/grunge movement simply started putting out trash, with many exceptions of course. Green Day seemed to be in this category. I purchased their second album whose name isn’t even worth mentioning because it basically sucked. Late last year when Green Day came out with American Idiot I was very hesitant to check out their music again. Their first single, American Idiot was ok but not exceptional. After listening to other tracks courtesy of my brother’s computer (uh, he legally downloaded them), I had to get the CD. For the past month or so I have been listening to this album non stop. I highly recommend it. I don’t give a rat’s ass if rollingstone just gave them 3 and a half stars.
You have to listen to the following tracks:
Jesus of Suburbia
Holiday Boulevard Of Broken Dreams
St. Jimmy
Whatsername
89 days until my ten year high school reunion. So far I have decided that I am not going. I am sure my friends will probably convince me otherwise. Although from the sound of things, it seems as though liquor will be lacking. How can we a reunion be a reunion without alcohol to liven up the event (“Alcohol, alternative to feeling like yourself.” – Barenaked Ladies). I wonder though, why I am solely preoccupied with the type of beverage that will be provided instead of actually looking forward to seeing ex-classmates. I genuinely want to see what everyone is up to with their lives. I can’t help but feel though that these events are just a ploy by the same in-bunch from high school to show off their life successes and such. Like always, I always think of some negative motive for everything. Why am I so damn cynical!? Anyhow, I have plenty of time to decide whether I am going or not. I guess I need to hit the treadmill and the weight-set which are just accumulating dust and spider webs in the garage.
remember / Porterville High School Class of 1995