Blog

Last week, I shared a story about my dad and our family life in Los Angeles as part of The Moth's inaugural program in Arizona. The theme was "Between Worlds: The Moth in Mesa" and the evening of stories took place on Tuesday, October 27,...

Whatever was happening in America was happening on the baseball field. Whether it was more and more Negroes or long hair and long sideburns and moustaches, baseball was there, reflecting the changes in America. I distinctly remember the day I went to see the Dodgers...

There is something strange happening to our national pastime. At first, I couldn’t put my finger on it. Everything seemed normal. I was sitting around on a Sunday afternoon, drinking a beer, watching my team, the L.A. Dodgers, playing their longtime rivals, the San Francisco...

Ok, let’s pretend that the Latino population explosion is not going to happen (heh, heh, heh, at least try it) and go back to the “English Only” issue. Let’s have everything be in English. Wherever you go, all the signs will be in English, all...

“Para Español, oprima el numero dos. For English, stay on the line.” By now, most of us in the United States have heard this message after dialing 411. For some, it is a welcome acknowledgement that they are part of the American fabric. At least...

So there I was in Texas on November 15, 2001, staring into the belly of the beast. I had decided to launch the tour of the Chicano Visions exhibition in San Antonio because it always an important center for Chicano art. The trouble was that...

There are some Chicanos who don’t want to be Chicanos – they want to be Mexican-American, Hispanic, or even Spanish. The same thing happened with art about the Mexican-American experience. No one wanted it to be called Chicano. The first time I went to San Antonio,...

Who the hell knows? To me, you have to declare yourself a Chicano in order to be a Chicano. That makes a Chicano a Mexican-American with a defiant political attitude that centers on his or her right to self-definition. I’m a Chicano because I say I...

In the make-or-break days of the American Revolution, Washington’s army was encamped in the bitter, freezing winter of Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. The wind howled, the snow fell, and if this revolution was to die, it was here. The army had yet to win one major...

Yep, betcha didn't know I am a lifetime L.A. Dodgers fan. I had a great time hanging out with Mat Gleason (aka Rev Halofan) today in Malibu talking beisból (that's baseball!) ...