In 1992 I fell in love con una jevita named Donita. She was a beautiful gringita with purple hair and no culo, who liked to play guitar and sing about shit I had little understanding about mostly because, at the time, I only had ESOL Level 2. Here's a picture of me in '92 after playing a show with my band Este Huevo Quiere Sal at Churchill's in Little Haiti.
Donita went on to gain success as the lead singer of a band called L7, but one of the things I remember her saying to me during our short-lived relationship was "Papi, the masses are asses," to which I always replied, "Tranquila mami, esas nalguitas estan bastante buena como estan, que coño masa ni masa?" Needless to say, we broke up, as did my band, but my English got better, and a couple of years later L7 released a song with the title "The Masses Are Asses," and I had a catharsis. Turns out she wasn't self-conscious about not having un buen par de nalgas at all, but rather trying to teach me a little something about how she felt the media treats us all. Taking important issues and reducing them to simplistic blurbs to gain attention, sway opinion, and, at times, maliciously destroy reputations.
I was reminded of Donita this past Tuesday as I sipped on my morning coladita and read the front page of the Miami Herald, where one of the stories was on former Hialeah mayor Julio Robaina. The headline boldly read, "Secret Cash Was for Mistres." Under that, in bold text, it continued, "Feds: Former Hialeah Mayor Julio Robaina took cash payments to keep his wife from knowing he was spending it on mistress."More »