Charros At The Pass...

"Lo que pasa,
Lo que pasa es que
la Banda esta borracha..."
- Traditional Mexican Song

By BOB VERACRUZ
The Paz Files

BROWNSVILLE, Texas - The income tax office is full. Coin laudromats are doing gangbusters business. Tortillerias can't keep up with demand. Taquerias do their best to feed the skinny and the fat. Rumors fly across town, all to do with politicians and indictments and grand plans and bad schemes. The federal government is loading yet another truck full of free cheese. It's due in at sundown. Life goes on here in this God-abandoned bordertown, a place where Hell recruits mightily, and where some of the Devil's best soldiers ply their trade before going home.

It's again time for the annual Charro Days festival.

Somewhere else, the issues of the day will propel the populace, things like Valentine's Day, March Madness and a presidential election. Not here. Here, in this dusty town home to some 140,000 legal and illegal residents, it'll be whooping and hollerin' and dancing and drinking. Gritos galore! Who needs the French Quarter? Who needs the Blues?

Beginning February 19th, and proceeding to the 26th, Brownsville will lay down its stifling problems and go Full-Taco, offering its salute to Mexico, returning to its historical roots, raising a toast to a part of the local culure many would rather flee from than celebrate. "Lord, bring me a job" will segue to "Lord, bring me a beer." That is the way of the Brownsvillian, a species not known for loyalty or invention. Blues? Screw that! Bad politics? Not now, man!

And so the town that dreads sundown will welcome a Mexican soap opera actor as its latest Mr. Amigo, the human element in the equation that seeks to bridge this part of Texas to Old Mexico. The actor's name is Arath de la Torre, last seen on the novela "Una Familia Con Suerte," irony of ironies. Nevermind that this actor is hardly a household name. Better suited for the honor might be a Mexican politician actually fighting the country's awful drug war, or maybe even some maid whose been making the walk across the international bridge here for years, to make sure someone's undies and socks are walked to the washing machine. An actor? Must have been slim-pickin's day at the selection committee. And why is it that no Brownsvillian is ever Mr. Amigo? Trans-border relationships go both ways. It would be nice to see a local named Mr. Amigo, although we recognize that "amigos" is too civilized a word for this neck of the woods. Traitor, is more correct. So is snitch. Stoolie rests high on the list. Bum. Alcoholic. Deadbeat Dad. Corrupt. The adjectives go for paragraphs that tire.

That aside, the celebration will go on as scheduled. Some lass will throat-out the Mexican Grito and there they'll go - on a sprint to the nearest beer keg, the nearest dance floor, the nearest double-tortilla fajita taco. It is the border, and the border will be served.

Welcome to Charro Days - El Baile Grande and Last Call and This One Goes Out To Maria and Eh, Quien Chingaos Se Tomo Mi Beeria and Bailamos, Negra all rolled into one. Again, as it has been for the past 46 years, it'll be a noisy and colorful humdinger, what today's warring Mexicans might call "Dia Del Deguello"...

- 30 -

[EDITOR'S NOTE:...Writer Bob Veracruz admits he has never attended a Charro Days celebration and, in this report, is going on cheap stereotypes. We feel it belongs in the story and serves merely as yet another refrain to a song most of us know well...]