Canto CDIX: QEPD, Tony Banda

Gentle cabrones:

This was maybe 15 years ago. The date fails me, but not the incident or the person.

It was a business mixer of some sort in OC. I was supposed to talk before the audience — maybe the keynote? Had to be, because I really don’t do mixers. I was talking to someone when someone else went up to me to introduce themselves.

Is that…Tony Banda?

Anaheim High Class of ‘97. Had him for a few classes. We were never compas — we had mutual friends, but I hung with the weirdos while he didn’t — but we would nod to each other if we saw each other from afar. He was one of those people who randomly pop into your mind from time to time even though you never really had a relationship with for reasons you never understood but didn’t mind.

Tony Banda!

He hadn’t changed a bit.

Same sharp dresser. Same close-cropped haircut. Same friendly countenance. Same great name. And that smile — I always remembered Tony Banda’s smile above all, the kind that warmed a room whenever he flashed it.

I reached out to shake Tony’s hand, which he accepted and then pulled me in so we could hug. I asked how he was doing, but he wanted to talk about me.

Said how proud he was of everything I had done. Loved my stuff in the Infernal Rag. How I was a role model for people like us. And then he wanted to tell me a story.

Graduation day, Anaheim High Class of ‘97, Glover Stadium. I was one of the commencement speakers. Since I’m an Arellano and Tony’s a Banda, we must’ve been in the same line to enter. Tony was fumbling with his tie. I showed him how to do a Windsor knot, then put it around his neck and tightened it up to the collar.

I completely forgot that moment, but Tony obviously hadn’t because here he was almost a decade later recounting it. He said he was so touched by that act of kindness that it always stayed with him.

The moment suddenly flashed before me. I told Tony that I remember him being nervous before the graduation, which I found odd then because he was always a cool cat. He replied that after I knotted the tie for him, I said everything was going to be all right.

And I was right. He was married to someone who also went to Anaheim High. Worked in something that required ties — banking, I think? If I ever needed any help, he said, let him know.

We hugged, and I eventually said my speech. I shouted Tony out, and he pointed at me proudly. We vowed to keep in touch, and of course we never did — life and all that.

But I remembered Tony even more after our chance meeting. His memory taught me a valuable lesson I held close to my heart ever after: How a little moment for you can be a big moment for someone else. How you should always try to be kind because you never know how you can help. Any time I had thought of Tony Banda before, I nodded my head; after our random encounter, I always smiled.

I always wanted to tell this story in a canto — indeed, in my list of ideas for future cantos, one of them was “Tony Banda tie.” But there are always other cantos to tell first, and I already had another one written out yesterday evening, when someone texted me a GoFundMe link about a woman who went to Anaheim High.

The woman’s husband had died of a heart attack, leaving behind his wife and five children, one who suffers from a rare disease. I clicked on the link, then read the text more more closely to see who the woman’s deceased husband was.

Tony Banda.

This Canto was supposed to be about a close friend I hadn’t hung out with in 20 years or so until last Friday. I’m still gonna write about that, because it was a wonderful experience and a reminder of the ties that bind no matter how far away you may be or how long ago it was. And even how if people might drift apart, the memories you have stay and even influence you.

That was Tony Banda.

I put his name in my Mexiclan chat to see if anyone remembered him. Plas said the husband of his sister coached softball with Tony. Vic said I tried to get in a fight with Tony — no, I reminded him, that was Bertoni (fucking Vic). I dug through my senior yearbook for Tony’s portrait and couldn’t find it. Then I saw a page dedicated to all the kids who did not get an official class portrait, rounded up by God-knows-what teacher and lined up against the wall for group shots.

Art was part of that group. A punk friend of ours. A metalhead. Some cholos and randos. The coolest of the cool, I thought then and looking at it right now, even more so. And there was Tony Banda.

He was probably 46 – I don’t know anyone who can verify that right now, but I’m assuming he was because he was in my graduating class. He died of a heart attack – way too young.

I wish I could say more about Tony but I don’t know anyone who directly knew him. I wish I could’ve at least told him that I never forgot him — and with his passing, I definitely never will. I don’t know what his dreams were, but I saw the photos his family posted on their GoFundMe page. There was gray now around his temples, but his hair was as great as ever. And the smile was even more radiant than I remembered it.

It seemed like the smile of a man who had everything he ever desired and knew it — and was grateful for it all.

Rest in peace, Tony Banda. I’m sorry I never got to know you more, but I’m glad we met one final time. Thank you for thinking so kindly of me as long as you did, and for the lesson you inadvertently taught me — the best kinds of lessons. May your memory be a blessing.

**

This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: The delicious pork shank at Fat of the Land in SanTana. Goes great with their soju Negroni!

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “Master your instrument, Master the music, and then forget all that bullshit and just play” — Charlie Parker

LISTENING: “El Gusto,” Los Camperos del Valles. One of the classics of son huasteco, which means I’ve never heard these lyrics before but the fiddle is transcendent, the falsettos high and lonesome, the jaranas never stop and it goes on and on — and you hope it never stops. Pound for pound, a better genre than son jarocho — and is it just me, or is that genre falling out of favor among the wokoso class? Hence included in Gustavo Arellano’s Weekly Radiola of Randomness YouTube songlist, where I’ve included every song I’ve ever featured in a canto — give it a spin!

READING: “Analyzing the NYC Bodega Menu”: I gave Robert Sietsema a shoutout a few weeks ago, and I can give him a million and never tire of it. Subscribe to his Substack for takes like this, something that combines Robert’s NYC knowledge of the streets, its history, and food. I’ve actually wanted to do this at a SoCal Greek-run burger joint since FOREVER — but Robert beat me to it!

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. 4, 7 p.m.: I’ll be speaking to the Democrats of North Orange County at Sizzler’s, 1401 N. Harbor Blvd., Fullerton. It’s probably members only, but show up and give them a donation and I’m sure they’ll let you in! 

Gustavo in the News

“Rancho Gordo News: Another Summer Salad Recipe and 2 Parties”: Rancho Gordo owner-founder Steve Sando came down to OC recently to hang out with my honey and I — here’s a short recap.

“What to know about James McCrery, Trump’s White House architect”: Former L.A. Times architecture critic Christopher Hawthorne shouts me out in his newsletter…

“Letters to the Editor: This reader had a crop-picking job as a teenager. He lasted only a week”: Los Angeles Times readers sound off on a columna of mine.

“Power grab may energize Newsom and Democrats. But it won’t fix their bigger problem”: My fellow columnista Mark Z. Barabak shouts out a columna of mine.

Gustavo Stories 

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

“Can Orange County handle its graying population?”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary talks about the issue at hand.

"Column: "L.A. never needed the Olympics. With Trump wanting in, it’s time to pull out"”: Did I share this KTLA Channel 5 clip of me from a few weeks ago last week? Well, here it is regardless!

“Should L.A. pull the plug on the 2028 Olympics?” The transcript of a conversation I had with two L.A. intellectual giants moderated by another one, Christopher Hawthorne, about the subject at hand.

“Newsom’s redistricting move isn’t pretty. California GOP leaders are uglier”: My latest L.A. Times columna talks about the gerrymandering version of “King-Sized Canary.” KEY QUOTE: “California Republicans are responding to this the way a kid reacts if you take away their Pikachu.”

“In Orange County, Black Catholic men have a club of their own”: My next latest L.A. Times columna profiles the Knights of Peter Claver’s OC group. KEY QUOTE: “Although the Diocese of Orange doesn’t keep demographic figures on its congregants, the Knights of Peter Claver leaders shook their heads with wearied smiles about how few Black Catholics they’ve met at their own parishes.”

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!