Canto CCCL: How (Not) to Sing a Corrido

Gentle cabrones:

If you haven’t figured it out already, I – to quote not exactly great O’Jays song – Love Music.

We’re now 350 cantos in — to quote a saying my cousin Vic says even though I don’t believe it, were we ever so young — I don’t think I’ve ever repeated an artist three times in my recommendations, and very rarely twice. I love bluegrass and oldies and bossa nova and death metal and Bach and Hector Lavoe and The Weeknd and so much more.

If you tune in to my Tuesday night Instagram Lives – and why don’t you? – you’ll also know — to quote a Merrie Melodies from back in the day that my brother especially loves because we saw it when I was a film studies major and he was a preteen — I love to singa, even if I’m very bad at it, and love to make up lyrics on the spot, even as I’m pretty good at remembering songs. So when Sara Guerrero, the founding artistic director of Breath of Fire Latina Theater Ensemble, asked if I wanted to participate in her corrido workshop, I didn’t hesitate to say BOOM.

She’s the August Wilson of Orange County, an incredible talent who has been exceedingly kind to me, probably because she’s a fellow jerezana. Her prompt was simple: write a corrido about Orange County, so what did I have?

Immediately,  I knew what I wanted to write about: the 1936 Citrus War. Never heard of it? Then you’re not reading me. I first wrote about it in 2006, and if you don’t know who I was in 2006, that’s fine. But I also wrote about it in my barely read 2008 book Orange County: A Personal History, and myself and my co-authors mentioned it in our modest seller A People’s Guide to Orange County, so no excuses. I taught about the Citrus War two weeks ago in my Latinx History of Orange County class at Chapman University, which I’ll excuse you for not taking because Chapman’s a private school.

Quick recap: 88 years ago, over 2,000 orange pickers went on strike, and the lords of Orange County brutally crushed them. It remains the most important event in Orange County history no one has heard of, and it forever solidified OC‘s hatred of Mexicans. There’s already a corrido written about it, by Emiliano Martinez, OC’s own corrido master. Don’t know about him? You’re not reading me.

Anyways, Sara ran weeks of workshops, teaching people how to write corridos, the classic Mexican ballad form. I, of course, didn’t go to a single one of them – not out of hubris, but because I’m working on… something. But of course I was going to commit to at least one rehearsal, since this year weirdly enough has been my theater year.

I was dramaturg for Center Theatre Group’s reading of The Trial of the Catonsville Nine, and went with my honey to a staging of the great play Alma at the Chance Theater in Anacrime, which Sara directed. As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, I also was namechecked in Josefina Lopez’s play about Gloria Molina, the legendary L.A. política, and there’s…something…coming up. One thing I’ve learned about the theater world, is that you should be a team player – go to the rehearsals, and be present at them. No checking phone, all about listening.

So I wrote my corrido – wrote it in like five minutes while stuck in traffic, at least a rough draft —  and submitted it to Sara and Breath of Fire’s resident musician, the brilliant Moises Camacho Vásquez I told them that it would be scored to the melody of the corrido standard “Lino Rodarte” — first off, because it’s an amazing corrido, but also because family lore has it that my great-great grandfather wrote it. Whether that’s true or not, what’s right is that it’s set in El Cargadero, the birthplace of my mami, which you should know already — if you don’t, you ain’t reading me.

I attended rehearsals two days before, rehearsed it with Moises, and even committed it to memory – what the theater world calls reading off the page, which I wrote about in this newsletter (don’t know about it? You’re not — ok, I’ll stop. But still: READ ME, don’t just follow). But, because I’m a writer at heart, I kept tweaking the words – you can always improve what you wrote. You should never settle for what you turn as your final draft.

Famous last words.

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The performance was a few Sundays ago, at the Black Box Theater at the Grand Central Art Center in downtown SanTana, where Breath of Fire is an artist-in-residence and has their rehearsal space. Two performances, 2 PM and 6 PM, in beautiful air conditioning at the height of that horrid heat wave Southern California went through. We went through our rehearsal, and then we waited for the crowd to show up. 60% capacity – not bad, I guess. Almost none of you were there, which means…you know.

All the corridos were wonderful — songs about love, and the history of Copwatch SanTana (complete with a shoutout to the compa Ollin!) set to different, original melodies. My friend and fellow Chapman graduate Elvia Rubalcava wrote about her family moving from El Paso to OC in the form of a song to her nieces and nephews. My other Chapman comadre, Adriana Alba-Sanchez, wrote an ode to the students who had to weather Covid, turning the classical corrido closer about doves to “Vuela, vuela virusita.” I’ve said this once, and I’ll say it forever: ALWAYS befriend people better than you.

The corridos continued, and then it was my turn. I went up to the mic with my Levi’s jeans, my checkered shirt, and my cinto piteado — rancho libertarian to the max. I waited for Moises‘s sierreño-influenced intro to cue me, and the drumming of legendary songstress Ruby Castellanos, and I began to singa.

I had my lyrics with me just in case, a suggestion from one of my fellow corridistxs. I sang the first three lyrics confidently with a good, strong voice. Then I came to the word that I changed just before our rehearsal…and my memory was derailed.

UGH…

I sang the rest of the song on the page. I was the only person to have messed up.

Afterword, I got congratulations from many people, including someone whose grandfather was an orange picker, but I was furious with myself even as I was thrilled with the performance everyone else did. It was incredible, it was historical –  and the next curtain call was in about two hours.

So after making some tacos from the El Gallo Giro that Adriana brought us, I went back to the stage and sang the song in front of the microphone four times to myself. Muscle memory. No excuses. I owed it to my Papa Je and Papa Sabás (#mexicannames) and mi Pepe, all naranjeros. I owed it to Emiliano. I owed it to Sara,  who now has cast me or a character me in three of her productions.

The second performance was 90% filled. Once again, everyone nailed it… And then it was my turn. I was the second-to-last corrido — again.

I went on stage, I heard Moises’ intro, and the terror sweat began. Moises had suggested I sing slower during our rehearsal a few days, which would usually deepen my voice. That’s how it was in Round One. But when I opened my mouth this time, I was an octave higher because of all the nerves.

It happens.

But I knew I had the lyrics down. I stammered at points, but I never had to see the lyric sheet. Applause, and then I went back stage and collapsed on myself.

Afterward, we took our curtain calls, and we all accepted our metaphorical flowers. I told playwright Roberta Martinez how I messed up the first time because I swapped a word at the very end, and she knew exactly what I was talking about and nodded her head in a manner that suggested rookie mistake. If you wanna see me sing it, my compa Joe posted it on Instagram – after I finish something, I immediately know what I need to work on, and where I did acceptable. Besides, you can always improve — so improve!

Thank you, Sara, for inviting me to participate. Everyone: support Breath of Fire,. Check out their next play, or better yet give them money just for the hell of it.

And now, “Naranjeros del Condado,” sung to “Lino Rodarte”:

Everything I wrote — “Shoot to kill,” Epifania and Virginia, colonias — is absolutely true. You should learn about it by…HA!

SPEAKING OF THE RANCHO…

Welcome, those of you who subscribed to my Substack even though I told you folks not to! As I said over on Substack, this is where I send out my newsletters, and I also said if you subscribed to my Substack (which I’ll update maybe once a year), I’d add you over here — so here you are! If you don’t want to keep reading me, c’est la vie and you can unsubscribe — and you might as well unsubscribe from Substack as well. Man, who actually reads me!

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: Photo of Cal State Channel Island Chicano Studies professor Frank Barajas, who always teaches my desmadre for some reason — it happens!

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.” — Supposedly Ralph Waldo Emerson

LISTENING: “Lino Rodarte,” Chalino Sanchez. No sabos were wondering how it sounds? The legendary singer-songwriter made it famous, and it wasn’t until like an hour before my curtain time that I realized how Chalino upped the tension in the corrido by spitting out the first three first syllables of nearly each line, pausing, then letting out a rush of words. Everyone loves his valiente persona, but the man knew his way around songs

READING: “Wibbling Rivalry”: I never liked Oasis when they were It, I don’t care for their reunion, and I don’t like romanticizing assholes. BUT…this interview, which all Oasis fans knew about but which I only recently learned about. Absolute art. I wonder if this is how the Collyer brothers got along…

BUY MY NEW 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  

Sept. 21, 1:30 p.m. aka TODAY: I’ll be in conversation with Mike Madrid, longtime GOP strategist turned Trump mega-hater and author of the new book The Latino Century: How America's Largest Minority Is Transforming Democracy at Alta Baja Market, 201 E. 4th St., Ste. 101, SanTana. Lecture is FREE and the first 50 people who show up get a FREE copy of Mike’s book if they registered — and you had your chance, and now you don’t!

Oct. 11-13: Rancho Gordo Encuentro — the collaboration between the legendary heirloom bean purveyor and my honey’s Alta Baja Market — is BACK. It’s a weekend of beans, and I’m in charge of two events: “The Bean Monologues” (exactly what it sounds like — people tell stories about beans), and “How to Taste a Tortilla,” which is also what it sounds like AND you get to take home good tortillas!. Links to each event in the links I put in said titles, and here are the rest of the events — buy your tickets soon, because they’re going FAST.

Oct. 18, 5 p.m.: I’ll be talking about my career at Saddleback College’s WordFest OC. It’s FREE, but you gotta RSVP here. (Note: I’m scheduled to just speak for 45 minutes, but I’ll also stick around for dinner through 7 because who wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to eat tacos?)

Gustavo in the News

“Los Angeles Public Library Celebrates Latinx Heritage Month With the Sixth Annual L.A. Libros Festival Featuring Authors, Illustrators, Workshops and Entertainment”: I’m going to be the emcee for this event.

“National Taco Day Will Now Always Fall on Taco Tuesday Thanks to Taco Bell”: Um, I didn’t write what this article said I wrote.

“My In Depth Review of the new iPhone Update”: Peter Murrieta plugs my plug of him.

“Anuncia Caleidoscopio Binacional ganadores del II Concurso y Festival de Cortometrajes”: I was a judge for this.

Gustavo Stories 

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

“Jewish group sues Santa Ana over ethnic studies course”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary talks about the mess that is Santa Ana Unified’s rollout of ethnic studies.

"Keri Blakinger”: My Los Angeles Times colleague (who covers the L.A. County Sheriff’s Department) includes me in her reel of what is the strangest thing a reporter has expensed (my answer was lackluster, alas)

“In Wilmington, a political contest where rivals actually get along”: My latest L.A. Times columna talks about the honorary mayor contest in the port town. KEY QUOTE: “The winner gets a two-year term that offers no salary, no staff and no political power. No votes are cast; no political action committees are created.”

“As Ohtani chased 50-50, White Sox vs. Angels was the most depressing game ever”: My next latest L.A. Times columna sees me go to a Halos game for the first time in years for a 13-inning rendition of the Bad News Bears. KEY QUOTE: “Giant photos of Mike Trout, the record-breaking outfielder whose talents the Angels have squandered during his 13-year career and who played only 29 games this year because of injuries, were everywhere. People marched in with all the enthusiasm of students serving detention.”

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!