Canto CCCLXXVII: ¡Huarachudo!

Gentle cabrones:

First off: yes, I’m late! Usually try to send these before 8 a.m. PST on Saturday mornings, but a lot of things happening this weekend and week, as you’ll see below.

Secondly: So many things to write about! Yesterday, I wrote two other cantos that I wanted to send out today, but I held (they will be sent out in the future) because they were either too similar to things I’ve recently written, will hit better at another time, or I just wasn’t feeling it for today. Canto writing is an art, just like columna writing — gotta keep ‘em guessing always, you know?

Then I looked down.

Those of you who have been around for a while will remember that in Canto CLXXVI, my sister hijacked my weekly newsletter to do a mimicry of how I write, centered around something I would’ve never thought of writing about:

My huaraches.

I mean, I’ve written about my articles of clothing before — my former use of Chucks (Canto LVII), shirts I have worn (Canto CCVII, kinda). I have two other sartorial cantos to do, but they’re more about lessons I keep from my mami than anything I wear.

My sister wrote a really wonderful piece, but she got my use of huaraches completely wrong. She assigned all sort of meaning to them, when there really isn’t none. Huaraches? They’re just things I put on my feet. Feet? I ain’t no Quentin Tarantino. They’re like cilantro to me — don’t hate them, but don’t particularly like them, so don’t really pay attention to them on others or myself.

Then again…

I used to wear slides in junior high—I liked the feel of the pixelated sole. I never really cared for flip-flops outside of the pool because I don’t need to expose more of my body than I already do. Birkenstocks are for hippies and old people – and since I’m ancient, I don’t need no damn arch support. So that left huaraches for when I’m not wearing shoes (and really, I like to be barefoot when I’m at home, for the same reason I garden without gloves — gotta connect to Mother Earth whenever possible ala Antaeus, but without the evil).

My sister wrote that my mom was always ashamed of me wearing them because of the connection to poverty back in Mexico, and that I only started wearing them because my dad – who always wanted to make me more Mexican – brought them to me from the rancho. Nah. I always liked them because they were sandal shoes – you got air circulation, and your toes were covered. I didn’t even think they were particularly cool — they were huaraches.

It’s always been others who assign meaning to them.

Whenever I wear them in public, people tend to compliment them. Mexican Mexicans, of course love them, especially the rancho libertarian set, because that’s what you wear back home. The no sabo kids love them because they think it’s performative even though it’s really not. Non-Mexicans love them because the design is objectively amazing: crosshatched leather strands, usually multicolored, with tire soles and nails? Ain’t no factories doing this shit.

But what always intrigues me are the people who do not like huaraches.

Who doesn’t like huaraches? More than a few people, it turns out.

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When I left the Infernal Rag, I organized a get-together with the remaining staff at a bar in downtown SanTana. Had just opened, so wanted to check it out. I went in jeans, my old Leon Trotsky jacket, and huaraches and sat in a plush throne-type chair in the waiting area, which should already tell you about the type of place it was. A host went up to me and asked what was I doing here – they thought I was a homeless person, or at least someone beneath their usual caliber of customer, which was true. I was not gonna pull out the Gustavo Arellano card, but I did tell them that after my party and I were done for the night, I would never go there again. I never really did.

Another time, my honey and I went to a chain restaurant in Irvine – definitely not my choice. She has this really bad habit of wanting to go to places that meant something in her youth that are objectively bad (Blind item: What iconic Cal-Mex restaurant in Orange County has horrible food and horrible service, as we recently found out a couple of weeks ago? Type of place Arte Moreno would probably go, for starters). When we went to this Irvine chain restaurant, we were told that there was a one-hour wait. Weird: it was almost completely empty inside.

Literally a minute after we were told this, a gaba couple asked if they were any tables and were promptly let in. My honey was in her work clothes, I was in my T-shirts-Dickies shorts-huaraches. I told the host I knew they were profiling us for being brown and looking like working class people, and sent an official complaint to a business for the first and last time in my life (it went nowhere — don’t be an islands unto yourself, corporate America).

That wasn’t as funny as the time NELcyn and I went to Din Tai Fung at South Coast Plaza for some to-go dinner to take back home and enjoy with NelCYN. The look of the people waiting for a table looking down at my feet in disdain! Mexicans and Salvis enjoy faux high-end Chinese food, too!

Everything doesn’t have to be a battle. But I wear huaraches now proudly whenever I wear them. If people wanna hate, I just smile. They’re not a political statement for me, but if people want to go there, bring it.

There’s a word in Mexican Spanish – huarachudo. Huarache wearer, literally. Almost always used as an insult — country hick, with a streak of anti-indigeniety thrown in. It’s what my mami never wanted us to hear or be in the United States — because she and others in my family bore that supposed shame.

Someone once accused me of using huaraches as a performative statement. Nah, pendejo: it’s allegiance. Put me with your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

¡Huarachudo soy!

Now THAT, dear sister, is how I would write about huaraches. Blind items POR VIDA.

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: Danny Castillo, the loco behind Heritage BBQ along with his wife Brenda, at their new Le Hut Dinette in SanTana, where Chef Ryan Garlitos is already doing his thing. Get the patty melt, which is as perfect as it is filling!

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “He never gave up, he never gave in; he never backed down, and he never backed up” — Dan Rather, on Fred Friendly

LISTENING: “‘Jesu, joy of man's desiring,’ BWV 147,” Simone Dinnerstein. You know this gorgeous Bach work, and you probably know the great pianist and her full, languid recital — but do you know her connection to Howard Stern? If not, then you obviously don’t subscribe to SiriusXM, where Simone’s work had a HELL of a cameo this week. Oh, and F Jackie.

READING: “The Example of Private Slovik”: One of the men who sentenced the only person executed for desertion during World War II writes about the circumstances that led to the decision, and the regret he had decades later. Raw, powerful writing from the past.

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  

Feb. 22 aka TODAY, 11 a.m.: I get to moderate a panel on immigration with two Macarthur genius winners (la profe comadre Natalia Molina and Jason de León) and one of the best magazine writers EVER about L.A. (Jesse Katz) for the Culver City Book Festival at the Wende Museum, 10808 Culver Blvd., Culver City. Event is FREE.

Feb. 23 aka TOMORROW, noon: I will be the grand marshal at the reenactment of the signing of the Articles of Capitulation — the formal agreement that ended the Mexican-American War in California — at the Campo de Cahuenga Historical Site, 3919 Lankershim Blvd. Studio City. What does that mean? I get to give a short speech! Come see this important part of California history for FREE.

March 8, 1 p.m.: I’ll be in conversation with artist Alicia Rojas about her new project, “Poderosas,” which is part oral history, part sculpture and part photo book about the women who help Latino Health Access save lives. Will be at the 18th Street Arts Center, 1639 18th Street, Santa Monica. Event is FREE.

March 13, 7 p.m.: I’m going to moderate a panel for “What Alliances Do We Need in Perilous Times?” on how groups are uniting to rebuild after the Pacific Palisades and Eaton fires. It’ll be held by Zócal Public Square at ASU California Center Broadway 1111 S. Broadway Los Angeles. Event is FREE, but you gotta RSVP.

Gustavo in the News

“Lab grown chocolate and The Bean Book”: KCRW comadre Evan Kleiman plugs the winner of my KCRW #tortillatournament

“Altadena Strong”: Macarthur genius comadre Natalia Molina plugs our co-appearance TOMORROW

“Fans, drag queens remember Paquita la del Barrio": A Los Angeles Times newsletter you should subscribe to plugs a columna of mine.

“Letters to the Editor: A more balanced look at Mike Davis’ doomsaying on L.A.”: A Los Angeles Times reader misses the point of my recent Mike Davis columna.

Gustavo Stories 

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

“TKTK”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary was about Huntington Beach’s latest pendejas, but it’s still not up yet — hmm…

"The Rise of Republicans in Latino California with Gustavo Arellano”: I appear on “The Latino Vote Podcast” to talk about my work.

“The real motive behind Trump renaming the Gulf of Mexico to ‘Gulf of America’”: My latest L.A. Times columna talks about probably the most telling Trump stupidity — and that’s saying something. KEY QUOTE: “It’s indicative of a commander in chief hellbent on continuing his efforts at a modern-day Manifest Destiny against our ultimate frenemy in any way, shape or form. Trump is convinced the American public will largely accept anything he does against Mexico, because guess what? It’s just Mexico.”

“Republican Latinos are rising in California. Now there’s a caucus for them”: My next latest L.A. Times columna talks about the creation of the California Hispanic Legislative Caucus. KEY QUOTE: “Latinos now make up nearly a third of Sacramento GOP legislators — a once-unthinkable scenario in a state where the party turned off Latino voters for a generation by pursuing a slew of xenophobic measures in the 1990s.”

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!