Chicano_Soul

   So I changed my twitter name (again) recently and have been asked a couple times, "why?".
First let me say that this will be the last time I change it. I don't know why I didn't start off with this name in the first place. I've been Chicano before I knew what Chicano was. I've always thought about my soul and what would ultimately become of it. I share the "Chicano Soul" with a lot of people but just like we each have our own memories, our souls are unique as well.
   I remember as a kid worrying about my mom and the pain she tried so desperately to drown out with alcohol. I remember worrying about her soul. I began to think that her soul would never be at rest until her body was.
   I began to worry about myself. Maybe I would never know peace until she was at rest. Not something you want to think of but it still crossed my mind many times. Maybe by me worrying so much, I'd keep the cycle going. I couldn't do that.
   When I say I worry about my soul, I don't mean that I'm a serial killer and I'm worried about whether it'll end up in heaven or hell. I've always had a strong conscience. For the most part, I've always walked the straight and narrow. I worry because I have people in my life I never want to let down. I also live for the people who are no longer in my life. I try to succeed for them everyday.
   Good or bad, I've learned something from all of them so I am thankful but at the end of the day I just hope my soul finds peace before my body does.

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Thank You

Music... or should I say *GOOD* music usually makes me think. It's funny how one thought leads to another and that thought leads to another and so on...and so on. Bobby Womack is preaching from the innards of my phone and it's not long before my mind starts jumping from thoughts about my wife to my kids to my parents back to my wife back to my kids. I think about my son the longest. Such a beautiful kid. He looks just like his mother. (No use denying it) There, I said it. He has my ears and he's tall for his age like I was and although he's smarter than I was, he might be just as lazy. I'm confident he'll accomplish so much more in his life than I have. I watch him teach himself songs to play on his guitar. I WATCH more than I encourage and compliment. Note to self: Say what you're thinking when you think it. My Grandpa used to ber like that. He was quiet all the time. I do the same thing with my wife. She'll never know how much I love and appreciate her. Maybe she would if I said it more often. After everything we've been through in the almost 13 years we've been together, there is no one on this planet I'd rather be with. Maybe I should talk more and blog less?

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Everything's Gonna Be Alright

I was sitting in the Police station waiting to speak to the officer at the desk when I saw a man walk in with his young son. The boy walked through the door and headed straight to his mom who had already been sitting there waiting for his dad to drop him off. I put the two and two together and right then and there said a prayer for that kid.

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"You ain't living, unless you're giving"

A few months ago I was faced with a real humbling experience. A few days before pay day and the money in the bank was wayyy below my comfort zone. I had to decide whether to risk it and hope nothing bounced or ask my dad for some monetary assistance. I knew that by me asking, I might be showing that buying a house so far away was not as good of an idea as we first thought. Like maybe we bit off more than we could chew with what we spend on gas alone. I decided to ask because I felt that having money in the bank was more important than how low I'd feel asking to borrow some. I picked up the phone and asked and dad told me he kept money to the side for that specific reason. Wait. Did he just say he expected me to come running to him for help? No. It was more like "just in case" and he was happy he could help. We have since paid him back and have been fortunate enough to be in a position to help someone else in their time of need when WE were asked. My dad often talks about how the help you give someone, no matter how small can eventually affect so many people (assuming people continue to pay it forward). He often says, "You ain't living, unless you're giving". Now I don't know if that's something he came up with but I sure can dig it.
P.S. Be sure to check back soon as I will be paying it forward again.

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Throwin' up the "W's"

I'm NOT going to start this post off with a lie. I'll be honest and say I finally MADE the time to accept my sons challenge to a basketball game. In my defense though, the schedule we have doesn't allow us much free time... that is unless you count all the time we sit around in the car while we make our way to and from L.A. I'm glad we finally got to play. The kid has some skills and I should know. I wasn't too bad myself back in the day. I played for Roosevelt High School's B team and would have eventually made Varsity if I hadn't tore 3 ligaments in my knee right before JV tryouts and...well that's enough about me. This post is about him. He hit some nice shots during our games. His initials spell A.I.M. after all so should it be any surprise? He claimed to be nervous during the two games we played and I believe him. As I sat and watched him shoot around after our second game though I couldn't seem to concentrate on one thought at a time. A bunch of things came at me at once. How did he get this old/tall so fast? Is he enjoying this day w/his dad as much as I'm enjoying the day with him and as much as I enjoyed the games I played my dad? Why did it take so long to get out here for a game? We had the small park to ourselves so there wasn't any rush. I left the park with a sore knee, sore foot and the next day felt like I threw my back out but who cares? I also left with a couple "W's" in my win column so I'm not complaining. Hey I have to enjoy them while I can.

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Bridging the Gap

Los Angeles State Historic Park has been in the news a lot lately. This park is being forced to scale back because of California's budget problem. It's funny timing because I've been wanting to tell my story about about my connection to this place and it's place in L.A.'s history so here it goes.

I was thinking back to when I was a kid and remembered some of my dad's wacky ideas about cool things we should do while we were on his weekend. Looking back even now, I wouldn't agree with my mom ("He's just trying to get out of paying child support"). The guy wasn't trying to kill me. On the contrary, on this occasion (at least) he was trying to make sure I'd be able experience one thing he had been able to before it was too late and the chance was gone forever. The bridge you see used to stand over what was once a rail yard and is now a state park. It connected Broadway to Spring Streets and saved pedestrians a hell of a long walk. My dad thought it'd be a good idea for my sisters and I to cross it while we still had the chance(even though its entrance had already been locked and red taped). He dropped us off on Broadway, (on the far side in the pic) jumped back into his orange 1973 VW bus and told us he'd see us on the other side (Spring Street). Since we must have ranged in age from 7-11 at the time we figured he knew what he was doing, "what could go wrong?" We found the answer to that question half-way across the bridge when my younger sister's foot broke through one of the planks. My older sister and I rushed to pull her foot out and after that we hurried to get the hell outta there. Now, if you've ever seen that religious picture of the kids crossing the bridge with the guardian angel over them, that's exactly what we looked like.

When you live in Los Angeles (or just live anywhere long enough) you know how fast things change. Buildings are torn down so that others can be built... and then torn down. I'm able to tell my son what stood before the building that stands now and my dad can tell me what was there before that. This bridge was taken down in either the late 80's or very early 90's and loving L.A. as much as I do, I'm glad I got to cross it while it was still up (barely) . I do regret answering my mom's "What did you do with your dad this weekend" question. I know he wasn't happy I answered that either.

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