Texans in the woodpile?

Howdy, Texans (and friends of Susan)! Just a note that I don’t live among the Mexican Belles of Heaven… my neighbors (and I) are more like the guy in the picture to the right. Click on him, if you’re so inclined… I don’t expect to be moving to “el Cid” soon (our version of South Fry Blvd.) but it would be nice to get enough to move the Mex Files to its own server.

Based on a few early “pre-release advance reading copies” of Gods, Gachupines and Gringos , I’ve had a few offers to write some short local histories, including one of Mazatlán.

Being a seaport, not founded until after Independence, and relatively unimportant until the California Gold Rush made it a way station on the trip around the Horn, Mazatlán’s ethnic stock is decidedly different from what I’m used to… the founding families were mostly Filipinos, Hansatic League Germans, New Englanders, Chinese and a few stray Polynesian sailors. And Mexicans. But, until yesterday, I never realized there must be Texans in the mix — at least this e-mail on the Yahoo message board for the foreigners in Mazatlán is pretty convincing proof that at least some of Mazatlán’s elite would be right at home in Highland Park or down around Fort Bend County.

Mar and I walk Sábalo-Cerritos most mornings for some daily exercise.

Up and over the bridge at a good clip will get you some cardio and the view is pretty nice as well. There is usually an assortment of walkers and joggers to pass and avoid, El Cid golfers to watch putt on the 3^rd green and a little old man with a huge tray of pasteles heading north to the construction sites.

This morning we had a diversion.

You know what an El Cid Princess is, right? drive a big SUV way too fast, don’t care about running over animals, tail gate you and blow the horn if you don’t get out of the way. They are more important than the rest of us and cannot be bothered with life’s inconveniences.

So, here are two of them, in separate vehicles, leaving the Marina Gate of El Cid at the same time. They get in each other’s way trying to cross the median and have to stop and back up to make the turn and avoid an accident. All within spitting distance of a Transito who is parked on the road to catch the speeders that roar through this area.

You can see the Princesses gesturing to each other with waving arms and mouths going a mile a minute. They pull over right in front of the cop, get out of their cars and are yelling at each other. The Transito gets out of his car; this officer looks to be about 12 years old and is considerably shorter than these two gals. This quickly escalates and a slap is thrown, then hair is pulled, more slaps with sun glasses and cell phones flying, clothes are being pulled and ripped and I think we are at an old fashioned cat fight. The poor Transito is out of his element here, and probably has no jurisdiction as this quickly becomes a criminal issue. He is on the radio calling for reinforcements as the traffic begins to stack up. We have a city bus, several taxis, construction guys on bicycles, and tourists on ATVs, all watching the show.

Soon two pick-ups of police arrive and the “ladies” are separated and traffic is waved on its way and the street begins to clear. For me, it was one of those times when this part of the universe was lined up just right, when things for all creatures big and small were balanced and these two brawling ladies made a perfect public spectacle of themselves.

Sure wish I had my camera.