The Land Where Chachas Never Die

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A friend of mine was back in town last week (she lives in Queens but grew up in SGV) and we had the following conversation:

Me: What have you been doing since you’ve been back?
Her: Last night I went to Punky Reggae at La Cita.
Me: Oh yeah, how was it?
Her: [long pause] uh…mmm…
Me: What? Too many hipsters?
Her: No…it was more like…if the Montebello Mall exploded!
Me: Ah…
[visuals flood my mind]

Another SGV friend claims the first Hot Topic store opened in the Montebello Mall (officially known as the Montebello Town Center). Can this be true? I think I was going to Schurr High School at the time (I lasted less than two months) when one of the punks came to school and said: “Oh my god, you guys! They’re selling Doc Martens at the mall!”

Yu-Mex

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Milić Ljubomir

[post transferred over from an old myspace blog entry]

Did you know Mexican music was popular with Yugoslavians in the 50s? I didn’t either! But here’s a webpage to prove it:
Jugoslovanska Mehika
It’s worth visiting for the album covers and mp3s. Ay, watch out Chente!

When we were in London many years ago, we went into a Turkish chip shop and there was a small crowd of veiled women gathered around an old TV which was blaring an unexpected tune. I peeked through them to see the infamously dingy Thalia in the opening credits of her hit telenovela Marimar. With the exception of the theme song, it was all dubbed into Turkish. It was a nice bit of familiarity so far from home.
I can’t say I felt the same way when we discovered a can of corn tortillas in the international food section of Harrod’s department store (appropriately located under the escalator in the basement). Yes, a can of corn tortillas for 10 pounds (like $15 dollars).

update:
Apparently, older Germans also like Mexican music:


Fiesta Mexicana!

Unwanted surprises

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Despite my lack of religiosity, I tend to be a somewhat superstitious person which I blame on my Mexican Catholic upbringing. For that reason things that shouldn’t bother or scare me, like ghost stories, the dark and forests, sometimes do.
For instance, I recently purchased two mid-century nightstands from a thrift store here in Lincoln Heights. I kept these nightstands in my garage for a little while, then moved them into my house and when I went to clean them, I made an unfortunate discovery: an old doll. Not just any doll, a doll that looked like some kind of voodoo priestess (see photo above). Okay, so I know it’s unfair of me to call her “voodoo” when she’s wearing the traditional dress of the Caribbean but it’s not the kinda doll you want to find randomly in an old piece of furniture.
When I first pulled it out of the drawer, my boyfriend said out loud what I had been reluctantly thinking: “oh, oh brujeria!” He said it as a joke of course, but it planted that tiny seed in my mind that grew into irrational thoughts. Why was the doll still in the drawer? Why didn’t the workers at the store discover it? The doll, which looks like it’s from the 1950s is remarkably preserved. Has it been stuck in the drawer all this time?
Finally, a tiny bit of rational thought broke through my tense, muddled mind and I mustered the courage to pull the doll out of the drawer and stick it in my cabinet of knick-knacks. It’s something I should have done weeks ago but didn’t have the nerve. I hate being superstitious and silly but it’s one part of myself that will probably stick with me for a very long time…whether I like it or not.
[I wrote this a week ago and now the doll doesn’t seem so scary but kinda cute, huh?!]

Happy New Year!

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An excerpt from Eduardo Galeano’s Book of Embraces.

The Fiesta

The sun was gentle, the air clear, and the sky cloudless.
Buried in the sand, the clay pot steamed. As they went from ocean to mouth, the shrimp passed though the hands of Fernando, master of ceremonies, who bathed them in a holy water of salt, onions, and garlic. There was good wine.
Seated in a circle, we friends shared the wine and shrimp and the ocean that spread out free and luminous at our feet.
As it took place, that happiness was already being remembered by our memory. It would never end, nor would we. For we are all mortal until the first kiss and the second glass, which is something everyone knows, no matter how small his or her knowledge.

Cuanto cuesta?

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Vintage soap trays from Craftsman home-$4

A friend and I went yard sailing today. She was looking for materials for an ongoing art project. I’m always up for a good yard sale, it simultaneously satisfies my consumer and voyeuristic vices in one swoop. Visiting the various locations on our list was ripe for an art project in itself, or perhaps an essay on class, consumption and the real use value of objects.

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More Dangerous than a Thousand Rioters

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History Detectives surprised me tonight with an excellent investigative story on a recently discovered book of Haymarket martyr August Spies’ speeches bearing the personal stamp of fellow anarchist Lucy Parsons. Their quest to find out if the book once was part of Lucy’s library had them interviewing Chicago anarchist and labor scholars, visiting the Haymarket Memorial and discussing the important but forgotten contributions of Lucy Parsons and her contemporaries.

Unlike many other media sources, they treated the ideas of anarchism with thoughtfulness and respect. Quite refreshing! (By the way, the producers might not have realized they’ve had anarchists on their show previously… hehe…)

net banging

…is my favorite new term. It’s when gang members proclaim their affiliations through web pages, blog posts, guestbooks and myspace comments. In other words, digital grafitti.

The owner of the blog In the Hat describes his blog as:
“Gangs, crime, cops and politics in Los Angeles. I welcome commentary by interested parties. Comments are moderated so don’t waste my time net banging. All correspondence remains anonymous.” For voyeurs and chismosas like me, In the Hat is a fascinating read. Who knew cholos could be so articulate?

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photo by Graciela Iturbide