Latino arts, history and culture
When I was thirteen I was asked to join a gang. And I found out a sad truth about myself. It was after the terrible Scouting Incident–and I’m not going to get into it here. Let’s just say it … [Read more...]
When I was twelve years old I joined the Boy Scouts and that’s when I learned about lying and just how difficult it was going to be for me to be a Mexican zombie AND a Boy Scout. One day when I was … [Read more...]
One of the worst things about being a Zombie is people think you are stupid. Have you seen those movies where the Zombies stumble about and come close to killing the hero of the film but somehow they … [Read more...]
PLAN OF ATTACK! “Oñate is vain,” Mr. Nez intoned, as he adjusted the display of a power point presentation projected on a large posterboard screen behind him. “It’s a weakness we will … [Read more...]
MOTHER DAY REDUX. “All aboard!” The van was running and ready to leave for the Mother’s Day picnic. The other zombies quartered at the secret Joshua Tree military training camp who were going to … [Read more...]
CAMP HASCAWALLA “Listen up! Everything you are going to learn in the next few weeks is a matter of life and death. YOUR life and death. We’ll soon be heading for the Oñate compound --pay attention … [Read more...]
THE WORSE DAY OF MY LIFE. At seven on the dot there was a group of about eight of us sitting around a large conference table in room 27 of the secret Mano Poderosa underground laboratory under the … [Read more...]
KING OF TEXCOCO. The news that Mr. Nez, leader of the La Familia band of zombies, was indeed the legendary Aztec poet King Nezahualcoyotl was stunning. It made Pearl and I devoted students of “The … [Read more...]
OLVERA UNDERGROUND. No sooner had I stepped through the doorway into Mr. Nez’s cavernous zombie hide-out hidden under Olvera Street than I heard a familiar voice. “Lazaro!” It was Pearl … [Read more...]
MORE REVELATIONS. Pearl and I stood for a long silent moment in front of the One Hundred building at Wilson High. Around us a few students walked by, on their way to their Mexican American normal … [Read more...]
Mom grounded me for a month after she got me out of jail. As a fifteen-year-old zombie it wasn’t as bad as it sounds. I was already a loner, used to being by myself. It’s not like I missed hanging out … [Read more...]
By the middle of my first year at Lincoln Middle School, the buzz was all about tattoos. I was in the seventh grade then and everyone seemed to have them--gang boys, study boys, nerd boys and, yes, … [Read more...]
Several weeks after I joined the Boy Scouts, Mr. Brown, our Scoutmaster, announced that we were going to go on our first week-end camping trip at the Boy Scout camp in Big Bear. My first camping trip … [Read more...]
I got my first library card at the Benjamin Franklin library on East First Street in Boyle Heights. Then we moved to Lincoln Heights–nearby but a whole new neighborhood. One of the first things I did … [Read more...]
I never really appreciated the Fourth of July until I was 11 years old. That’s when my teacher, Mrs, Rosewell, invited me to her home in South Pasadena for a bar-b-que dinner, to meet her two kids, … [Read more...]
When I was 13 I became acutely aware of the need to have a zombie role model. By then my mom had moved us from the run-down house in Boyle Heights. The house was infested with cockroaches (which I … [Read more...]
Pearl González giving me back my dollar bill and telling me that she didn’t need money to be my friend made me realize, in my eight year old mind, that perhaps romance was not out of the … [Read more...]
As I may have mentioned before, it’s not easy being a Mexican and a Zombie. It’s caused me to be a bit of a loner–not out of preference, mind you, just kind of the way things turned out. I think it … [Read more...]
THE RAID. We left the secret La Familia zombie training camp at Joshua Tree at two in the morning. Filomino Brancos, our combat trainer, estimated that the drive to the Oñate zombie compound at Big … [Read more...]
WHO IS MY FATHER? It took a moment for me to realize that I had collapsed onto a chair in the main cabin of the secret Joshua Tree zombie training camp. The impact of seeing Juan de Oñate’s photo … [Read more...]
THE WORSE DAY OF MY LIFE. At seven on the dot there was a group of about eight of us sitting around a large conference table in room 27 of the secret Mano Poderosa underground laboratory under the … [Read more...]
