Canto CCCLXXX: 40 Things I Know About Me

Gentle cabrones:

Thanks to a generous plug by Anne Helen Petersen, one of the sharpest observers of the modern-day American condition, I have a bunch of new subscribers — huzzah!

So, um, hi?

Probably wondering who I am. I’m a nerd. A zacatecano. A naranjero. A Mexican with glasses. And a hack.

But let’s really get down to who I am.

One of the many publications I pay for is Air Mail, published and edited by Graydon Carter. For you non-journalists out there (or journalists younger than 40), he was one of the last of the swaggering celebrity editors. Co-founder of Spy, which fused alt-weekly rakishness with high-falutin’ pretenses in chronicling late-80s and early-90s New York. Editor of Vanity Fair from Bush I to the beginning of the Trump era, where he merged fabulous longform journalism with the type of elevation of celebrity culture only a Commonwealth subject can do.

Air Mail is a weekly, rarefied merger of both, but if the only Carter contribution to American letters was when he deemed Trump a “short-fingered vulgarian,” then that’s a hell of a career.

Anyways. Carter just got the Maureen Dowd treatment, which is as great a time as ever to give myself the Air Mail treatment. One of their regular features is “The Perfect Ending,” where a celebrity answers what it calls “40 of life’s most pressing questions.”

I ain’t a celebrity, and I ain’t getting no Air Mail profile — so I’ll just ask those question to myself in the hopes that ustedes newbies and even long timers can get a sense of what makes me click. Enjoy!

Airline: The cheapest one that lets me bring on a carry-on bag and personal item. No connecting flight too tenuous, no liftoff too early.

Airport: It was Long Beach, but then JetBlue left. Now? John Wayne, I guess — but only because I live not too far away.

Alibi: “Columna.”

App: FUQ ZUQ

Bag: My Coach bags — laptop and weekender — that I bought so long ago I can’t even remember when it was. Goes with my Coach wallet — and that’s about as fancy as I get, and that’s all the Coach I got.

Bedtime: 11:30 p.m., after I watch the Channel 4 News. I give Jimmy Fallon a chance to impress me with his monologue. Rarely does he.

Bike: The stationary one at Camp Strong Tush.

Birthday: No.

Girlfriend: My honey.

Breakfast, Weekday: The Lady C Eggchilada at Alta Baja Market that my honey doesn’t finish. Silky, spicy and made with blue corn tortillas from La Princesita in Eastlos, previous winner of my #tortillatournament

Breakfast, Weekend: Whatever leftovers I heat up at Alta Baja Market, usually from home but sometimes from where we ate before — gotta eat a wedge salad right now from Chapter One: The Modern Bistro in SanTana, for instance.

Children: My nephew and Mateo THA GOD...

Cocktail: Manhattan Up. Bitter, bracing and refreshing and always demanding a chaser of the same thing.

Cocktail appetizer: Manhattan Up. See above.

Date: Medjool. Fleshy, ultra sweet and massive.

Diet: Cilantro-free.

Dinner, Weekday: Steak or pork chop at Chapter One: The Modern Bistro in SanTana with a Manhattan Up. Huge, with chimichurri AND salsa de chile de árbol. No fries, though — they make them good, but the veggies are better.

Dinner, Weekend: Not as much as before.

Disguise: Hoodie, of course.

Drive: Eastbound and brown (Canto last week).

Enemy: Hypocrites, ingrates, convenencieros.

Escape: Irish goodbye.

Excuse: “Columna.”

Family: Not enough.

First Lady: Eleanor Roosevelt. Smart as hell, devoted, and a very good writer.

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Fit: I can do 40-some pushups in a minute, but only two pullups and can’t run worth a damn.

Flaw: According to my mami, I’m too kind. According to Yahweh, I never say no.

Foil: Rest.

Friend: The Mexiclan. Vic, Plas, Godfather, Butcher, Nate, Apprentice, Mountain, Art. When is CBS giving us a show (Never, because Hollywood hates Mexicans who aren’t narcos)

Good-bye: “Columna.”

Hideaway: Cosmo Cavern. Gotta tune into GAG for that.

Hotel: Los Poblanos Inn near ABQ, even with its expansion — the library bar!!!

Indulgence: Strawberry Quik milk with Zingers. Only for extra-special accomplishments. (Canto LXXXII)

Insult: “Weak salsa.”

Jacket: Suavecito windbreaker, or the fit Pendleton that’s NOT checkered.

Last Meal: Asado de boda, quesadilla de queso zacatecano, capirotada, orange juice. All that’s important and delicious to me.

Lunch, Weekday: Depends on where the columna has taken me — Los Chorros in Inglewood if a day at the office, Alta Baja if in Orange County, Chabelita’s if I’m out in the San Fernando Valley, Burrito Exchange if I’m coming down from the 605, La Parrilla in the Eastside.

Lunch, Weekend: Leftovers at Alta Baja Market. Probably some barley soup today.

Movie: Apocalypse Now Redux or Blazing Saddles. Humanity at its most real and surreal in both cases.

Neighbor: Don Alex and Don Pedro.

Book: Southern California Country: An Island on the Land, by Carey McWilliams. Prophetic like few other books.

Novel: The Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck. The story of my family.

Pair of pants: Dickies or Levis. Sturdy above all.

Pair of shoes: Doc Martens until they die.

Pen or Pencil: Pen (Canto to be indexed).

Pet: Cosmo and Hook (RIP).

Piece of advice: “Don’t get beat.” (Canto XXXV)

Restaurant: Alta Baja Market. My honey’s spot.

Ride: 1974 Cadillac Eldorado convertible that I need to drive more.

Saying: Too many to count, but let’s go with “But no one eats loquats!”

Scent: I hope good?

Singer: Los Cuatro Gallos mexicanos y Hector Lavoe. Sarah Vaughn, too!

Spouse: My honey.

Street: La Filadelfia.

Storm: Quiet.

Television series: First 10 seasons of The Simpsons (never got better than the original Frank Grimes episode), original run of Arrested Development (never got better than Franklin).

Theme song to your life: “Last of the Steam-Powered Trains,” by The Kinks. (Canto LXXXVI)

Time of day: All of it.

Toast: “Salud.”

Vacation: 127 Yard Sale (Canto just last week)

Victim: Only of myself.

Wake-up time: When Cosmo wakes up.

Work of art: All of Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos, but especially No. 5, First Movement. That harpsichord, yes, but don’t sleep on the flute!

Anyways. This newsletter is about my thoughts on existence, the people and places I see and lessons learned. Gracias for subscribing, and tell a pal or 45,000.

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: A Triple Dipper from Chili’s, where I recently went for the first time at the behest of my brilliant colleagues Brittny Mejia and Hailey Branson-Potts — a solid B-!.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “Most men that do thrive in the world do forget to take pleasure during the time that they are getting their estate but reserve that till they have got one, and then it is too late for them to enjoy it with any pleasure.” — Samuel Pepys

LISTENING: “Paradies City,” Guns ‘n’ Roses. NelCYN was shocked, shocked! that I could enjoy something so seemingly basic as this group and this song. NELcyn not only wasn’t shocked, but agreed with my hot take that this song — thrumming guitar chords, pummeled percussion and Axl’s klaxon of a voice — is better than “Welcome to the Jungle” and “Sweet Child O’ Mine. Folks: I’m simultaneously not as cool as you might think I am and the most down-ass loco EVER (Can’t Hardly Wait, btw, was a trash movie that I saw in the theaters for some reason but I picked this version because the YouTube one with the music video is slightly different)

READING: “No Place for Self-Pity, No Room for Fear." Toni Morrison. In The Nation. Doing her version of the St. Crispin’s Day Speech. These are the days we’ve prepared for, folks.

BUY MY NEW-ISH CO-BOOK! People’s Guide to Orange County tells an alternative history of OC through the scholarship and reporting of myself, Elaine Lewinnek, and Thuy Vo Dang. There’ll be signings all year — in meanwhile, buy your copy TODAY. And, yes: I’ll autograph it!

Gustavo Events  

March 22, 9 a.m.: Join me and one of my co-authors of A People’s Guide to Orange County as we do a tour of downtown SanTana! Tickets are $20 but completely worth it — buy here.

April 26, 3 p.m.: I’ll be moderating “The Activist Spirit and the Embodiment of Solidarity” at the L.A. Times Festival of Books at Newman Recital Hall at USC. Tickets will be required but not released until April 20, so stay tuned.

April 27, 11:45 am. and 4:15 p.m.: I’ll be moderating two more panels for the L.A. Times Festival of Books: “Voto Latino: Post-Election Reflections” and “Ask a Reporter: How We Cover Immigration.” The former will be at the De Los Stage and accessible to all, the latter will be at Mudd Hall 203 and will require tickets that are not released until April 20, so stay tuned.

May 3, 9 a.m.: Join me and one of my co-authors of A People’s Guide to Orange County as we do a tour of Anacrime! Tickets are $20 but completely worth it — buy here.

Gustavo in the News

“This millennial duo launched Cynthia, a print magazine about música Mexicana for Zoomers”: A Los Angeles Times newsletter you should subscribe to plugs a columna of mine.

“Paper-Thin Ethics": Another instance of someone using my name to bash the L.A. Times without bothering to hit me up for a quote. I’m a good quote, folks!

“Once Yearly Sale + A Much-Welcomed False Spring of Links and Recs”: Anne Helen Petersen’s kind plug from a few weeks back.

“What Alliances Do We Need in Perilous Times?”: Recap of the Zócalo Public Square panel I moderated on the subject at hand. And here’s the Flickr stream!

Gustavo Stories 

“Grítale a Guti”: Latest edition of my Tuesday night IG Live free-for-all.

“Anaheim School Board ousts member serving 2 public seats”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary tackles the stupidities of some politician in my hometown.

“They just started a Spanish-language magazine for L.A. In 2025. Why?”: My latest L.A. Times columna talks about El Clasificado’s move in the wake of El Aviso’s death. KEY QUOTE: “The publications were rivals the way George Clooney and Brad Pitt are, each happy to stay in their lanes and appear alongside each other seemingly everywhere.”

You made it this far down? Gracias! Follow me on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram while you’re down here by clicking on their logos down below. Don’t forget to forward this newsletter to your compadres y comadres! You can’t get me tacos anymore, but you sure as hell can give them — and more — to the O.C. Catholic Worker!