In Brownsville, Ropa Usada Art Replaces The Blues...

"The beauty of things was born before
eyes and sufficient to itself; the heart-
breaking beauty will remain when there
is no heart to break for it..."
- Robinson Jeffers, Credo

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
The Paz Files

BROWNSVILLE, Texas - Sitting on a comfortable, but aging easy chair covered with annoying bright-purple velour, Larry "Bordello" Lopez lifted his cup of coffee as if lifting a toast to his woman, his bride, his greatest love. Shortly, after panning his eyes across his cavernous warehouse full of used clothing heaped in strategic piles, he pointed toward a corner of the dusty building and said, "That's the future of Brownsville over there."

Over there, as in by a row of shelves holding a variety of boxes and strappings, was a life-sized statue of the sort one sees in Italy. Glossy in shine, it seemed out of place in the old building much like, say, a sailboat would look if someone set it inside a barn in West Texas. Lopez is banking on an idea this town may never be ready for, but he's at it - bringing high-end Art to town to be shown - and offered via auction - inside what not long ago was an abandoned warehouse.

Ropa Usada is his trade. He sells the used clothing by the box to mostly Mexican citizens and entrepreneurs who re-sell it for a profit south of the border. This town's urban center is dotted with Ropa Usada stores, some as close as a 9-iron to the international bridge.

Will Ropa Usada art replace the Brownsville Blues as the town's main tourist attraction?

Larry Lopez's eyes grew wide as he set his coffee cup down on a new wicker table he had set up in front of his easy chair. Reaching for a slice of his beloved semita, he said: "It's as good as any stab we've made at becoming relevant to the rest of Texas and the United States. Who are we, is what I would ask. So we open a few bars and say the Blues will float our boat. But will it?"

He's pessimistic about the odds of that exploding into something fabulous.

Then, as if some prideful magician not done pulling rabbits out of his hat, he says - no screams: "It's not gonna happen! The Blues? Are you kidding me? The Blues!"

Lopez has thought about enlisting the aid of the same local bloggers who made the Blues push last month, a push that has evaporated and been dumped somewhere on the outs of town along with a few tons of Christmas gift wrapping paper and crushed bows.

"The thing is I want to get locals involved, but only if they know something about Art," he went on. "The Blues thing was okay, but those guys knew squat about the real thing. That's the difference between pros and wannabe amateurs. I can't afford an amateur."

And the ropa trade, we ask.

"It feeds my kids," Lopez threw out as another battered pickup truck backed into his loading dock. "See that guy? He's dropping a good $500 today. Nothing but ragged blue jeans, Mervyn's shirts and UT-PA sweaters in here today. I'll throw the guy a bone by giving him a few dozen pairs of shoes and maybe some of those weathered cowboy boots."

As we departed the new business, it struck us that this venture might succeed where the Blues project failed. The old, Mexican man had brought a young man with him and he simply occupied Lopez's easy chair, poured himself a cup of coffee and began barking orders at the kid doing the loading.

There was something clearly artsy about the mid-morning scene. In a Texas-Mexico border way, at least...

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