Canto CCCLXXVI: Scenes from Not Talking to People

Gentle cabrones:

The person I’m about to talk about, one of you definitely knows who they are. The rest of you? Probably not — but you know where they’ve worked. Institution — not them, but where they’ve worked. 1.5 institutions they’ve worked at, now that I think about it.

I got to work with them on…something. Very nice person. Very talented. Advocated for me when they didn’t have to. Told me something telling about…someone that all of you know and that totally checked out when I had to deal with that someone.

The person I’m talking about told me they grew up in Orange County — graduated from a high school that needs all the heroes and sheroes they can get. I had friends who taught there, and I had visited classes there in the past. Hey, maybe the school could hold a sort of homecoming for you, I told the person I’m talking about, because the students might not know who you are, but they definitely know the institution where you worked for and you could inspire them by merely showing up and showing them that if you could do it, so could they.

I might as well asked them to swallow slime.

Their face literally curdled. They scoffed at the very idea — and it wasn’t one of who-me humility but ugly arrogance. “I don’t have the time for kids,” they told me — what could they possibly gain? It was particularly galling since their public persona in their institutional world was one of where they were trying to get more opportunities in their field for kids from high schools and communities like where they came from.

The people I’m about to talk about, some of you will know, but not too many. They think you know their most famous project, which was better titled than executed. We once nearly worked on something, but then they found a better opportunity than me. It happens.

Even though they’re more famous than me, and even though they had an opportunity to work with me on…something…they think I’m a genius and thus asked I interview them during a conference. Of course — if I’m available, I’ll do it. I wasn’t going to get paid — that’s fine. If I’m available, I’ll do it, especially for the folks that were going to be our audience. That’s the only reason I agreed, actually.

Two days before we were supposed to talk, the people I’m talking about canceled our gig — they were getting paid to do something else, and what they were supposed to do with me was going to be for free. The organizers were devastated. I said I could still do it, but they weren’t interested in me. I didn’t hold it against the organizers, but when the people I’m talking about asked if I could do something else, I reminded them of the shit that they pulled and said no.

The person I’m about to talk about now you definitely know. A-list celebrity in their world, which is a pretty big world. Funny story about them, as an aside: when I was a nobody, they wouldn’t give me the time of day when I asked for…something. When I became whatever’s above a nobody, they tried to charm their way into my good graces (it didn’t work).

I got invited to speak to a group of high school students — just flight and a drive to and from the venue as my pay. Of course — if I’m available to do it, I’ll do it. I got talking to the organizers, and they revealed that I was their second choice, as cool as I was. The person I’m talking about now demanded $25,000 for a one-hour talk. To speak to 70 high schoolers. The absolute legend who spoke just before me, a person far better than the person I’m talking about right now? The absolute legend got the exact pay that I did.

The absolute legend usually does that. They don’t like me, but I think they’re incredible. That little lesson, early on in my talking career, solidified why I talk as much as possible, whenever possible, for whatever I can get. And if it’s nothing, like it usually is? If I’m available to do it, I’ll do it. Do it while I can, when others won’t.

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I still remember the first group of strangers I ever spoke to. Cal State Long Beach, 2002. Chicano Studies class. I would’ve been 23. Just to show you how long it’s been, I was asked to lecture about rock en español, and so I took a CD player to play an album I can’t remember.

The students loved it. I’ve spoken to young people ever since – and really, to anyone will have me, if I can. I’ve written about this before – the chance to reach one person. Because I see it happen again and again.

 I’m a little bit above whatever is past nobody nowadays, so I still get invites to speak. A lot of times, especially at K-12 schools, I’m told that no one ever wants to come speak to their classes who’s not a personal friend of someone on staff.

That’s humbling and sad.

We are all busy, I get that. But those of us who have something to impart to others – it is our obligation to do so. Why wouldn’t you want to share what you have with others?

Mentor. Lecture. Listen and learn. Be out there. This is how we inspire and challenge and change the world.

The people I’m about to speak about, it’s actually some of you. Ustedes wonder why I speak so much to crowds — do so much when I could be doing so many more things. Why should I speak to a group of teens in North Hollywood for a free parking pass during a workday?

Because I can. Because we must.

I will continue to speak to classes and groups until I cannot speak anymore or until I’m not wanted to speak anymore. And that day will happen. I used to have a speaking agent and travel all around the country to college campuses — I think my record was 25 in one year (there’s a whole canto about the airports I’ve flown out of — around 60!). Those days dried up when i changed my focus to Southern California, and students didn’t want to hear anymore from someone in their 40s who’s above whatever’s above a nobody.

The people I talked about in the first half of this canto are all more successful than I can ever hope to be. I don’t talk to any of them anymore. They realized our ethics about our responsibility to those we could help didn’t mesh, and thus severed whatever ties we have.

It happens. I tie myself to los buenos — and the good always want to learn. And if they want to learn from me, it’s a blessed life I live and will live as long as I can.

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: Torta de chorizo — just pickled onions and jalapeños, chorizo, queso from Jerez, and BOOM. Bolillo from Mil Hojas Bakery in Placentia. Chorizo made by Marbella, the wife of mi Tío Ezequiel — the BEST chorizo you’ll ever taste. Just ask Nelcyn, and ask NelCYN WTF with cilantro!

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “I am so greedy for books” — Plutarch

LISTENING: “Yuma Joe,” Sandro. I know my Mexican music and rock en español and tropicália/bossa nova and even salsa/merengue/bachata, but I REALLY need to learn my 1960s-era Latin American pop, especially because they were in love with the organ, as this pampa Western track shows. A Tom Jones wannabe doing a howlish take on the tag to Jimmy Dean’s treacly “Big Bad John” with an alto sax? Makes Los Pasteles Verdes seem as simple as Silvio Rodriguez.

READING: “Orcas à la mode, totally tubular sea pickles and bloodthirsty squirrels”: One of the lost arts of journalism is the aggregation columna, wherein a smart-aleck writer gathers news items and offers asides. The masters of the genre, of course, were Clockwork Coker and Lowery, but with the Infernal Rag long gone, I especially love “Heard Around the West,” the closing page to each issue of the indispensable High Country News. They do a great job of finding stories funny and funnier, usually from ultra-local news sources, and are proudly cornpone in their humor. Best of all? It all ties back to their purpose of documenting the Mountain West. Subscribe TODAY.

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, 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, 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

“The Student Fire Bell in the Night: Resistance in Ventura County to Xenophobia”: Cal State Channel Islands Chicano Studies profe Frank Barajas shouts out a columna of mine.

“bioGraphic”: There used to be an amazing publication named Hakai that focused on coast culture — biology, culture, climate change, all of it. I shared some of their articles here. Sadly, it closed at the end of 2024, but some of the writers — and definitely the ethos — went to this publication. Sign up for their weekly newsletters, especially because they have a rhyming contest dealing with the ocean, and I was one of the winners last week. My prize? A sense of satisfaction.

“The awards story of Emilia Pérez illuminates Hollywood’s fragile politics”: I get quoted about a columna of mine.

“Introducing the De Los 101”: A Los Angeles Times newsletter you should subscribe to plugs a columna of mine.

“Netflix Breaks its Silence Surrounding Emilia Pérez Controversy”: A quote of mine gets quoted.

“Part 156: Why I’m Leaving Los Angeles – California Love and Future Realities”: Legendary whistleblower Zachary Ellison mentions me in a story of his.

“Letters to the Editor: What country’s flag should protesters wave at immigration rallies? Readers debate“: L.A. Times readers talk about a columna of mine.

Gustavo Stories 

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

“Santa Ana Unified to lay off hundreds of staff after school board vote”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary talks about something that’s coming to most public school districts in Southern California.

"'Optics might be more fraught than ever:' The debate over Mexican flags at pro-immigrant protests”: I appear on Phoenix’s KJZZ to talk about a columna of mine.

“How We Got Here, plus Thanking the Undocumented "Start Making Sense with Jon Weiner"“: I appear on the legendary historian’s podcast for The Nation to talk about a columna of mine.

“Ask a Californian: The Love Edition”: My latest Alta Journal co-columna delves into the romance of the Golden State. KEY QUOTE: “Like Sly Stone and his family sang so long ago, different strokes by different folks guide the motion of the ocean—or something.”

“Cruising into the mainstream with a lowrider professor”: My latest L.A. Times columna profiles la chingona Denise Sandoval. KEY QUOTE: “Sandoval, who has taught at Cal State Northridge since 2002, is perhaps the premier scholar on lowrider culture and also an exemplar of what an academic should be.”

“We live in Mike Davis’ L.A. — but not the one you think”: My next latest L.A. Times columna finds me talking to friends and family of the legendary writer about what he would make of the devastation and reaction to L.A.’s horrible fires. KEY QUOTE: “He was less Jeremiah and more John the Baptist, preparing the way for who would ultimately save L.A.: Us.”

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!