Dear Mexican: Do your countrymen still worship the rock band Santana? Or are they looked at like the Who in England and Crosby, Stills and Nash in America: relics from the good ol’ Woodstock days?
Abraxas to the Maxas
Dear Gabacho: Mexicans never actually worshipped Carlos Santana, who was born in Jalisco and grew up in Tijuana before moving to the U.S. and becoming the Quetzalcoatl of rock. Oh, we’ve always respected him —after all, Santana is a mexicano who hit it big by fusing Latin rhythms with acid rock — but he long ago left the earthly realm of nationalism to hang out with his guardian angel, Metatron, making him the true manifestation of la raza cósmica. But Mexicans like their male musicians the way hombres like their sex: loud, sweaty, and done in under four minutes...okay, three.
Dear Mexican: My husband, who is very proud of his Mexican heritage, was born and raised in Santa Ana. He grew up with a more traditional upbringing than I did. Long story short, he bought a T-shirt with the words “Gringo I Want You” on the back of it with a picture of Pancho Villa pointing. When he bought it, I said, “Honey, are you sure you should be wearing that T-shirt? Someone might take offense to it.” He said no one would even notice what it says.
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Well, last night, we were at our local drug store, and some big biker dude who had just ridden up and parked his hog on the sidewalk came up to us and started yelling loudly at my husband, “Hey, you MF-er, I’m a gringo, and I don’t like that shirt you’re wearing. You’d better take it off.” At first my husband thought the guy was joking, but he continued. I figured he was drunk. I was so mad I wanted to kick his bike over when we walked back to our car, but I said nothing until we got in, when I did the “I told you so” to my husband.
So what should we have done? Caused a scene? Stand for our right to wear whatever we want? Or just ignore the dude and walk out of the store, which is what we did? This was a big MF-er, and my husband is a small-framed, fifty-year-old diabetic viejito. Back in the day, he would’ve knocked the SOB to the floor. Even though I did the “I told you so” thing, I believe my viejito has the right to wear the shirt. But I feel the biker dude was entitled to be offended, too. The question in my mind was, does this idiot even know the history of Pancho Villa? Probably not — so it was just an act of ignorance, or he really was drunk. Last night, my viejito slept in that T-shirt, and now he refuses to take it off. I’m proud of him.
Angie la OC Pocha
Dear Pocha: Short story long! Long answer short? Reward his bravery by wearing Pancho Villa chonis.