Monthly Archives: March 2012

CULTURE: Earl Scruggs, RIP

Earl Scruggs, great banjo player and musical spirit, has died at the age 88, the LA Times reports.

Apart from being a monster instrumentalist, he also was a guy who looked to play with all types of musicians, not just bluegrass folks. King Curtis, Elton John, etc. I remember being stunned as a kid at a guy who spoke with his deep Southern accent yet sought out hippies and black people with whom to play.

This was a rare thing, then.

For a few years there, he was almost a hippie, at least by bluegrass standards, with his hair down just about to his collar.

Here’s a video of Flatt & Scruggs on the Grand Ole Opry.

RIP Earl Scruggs.

 

 

 

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CALIFORNIA: Master pot growers

Cool story by Joe Mozingo in today’s LAT, on the master pot growers of California.

 

 

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GANGS: The Mexican Mafia and killing one’s own

Virgin, West Side Verdugo

There’s a story in Friday’s Whittier Daily News that says a lot about how Latino street gangs in Southern California have changed, and turned on themselves.

The reason is the Mexican Mafia, the prison gang that has controlled street gangs for most of two decades.

In the story, a gang member killed a friend who’d been going around collecting taxes from area drug dealers in the name of the Mexican Mafia, when he wasn’t designated to do so.

The story doesn’t say how good of friends these guys were, but there were many years when Latino street gangs would never kill one of their own like this.

The Mexican Mafia’s taxation scheme — ordering Latino street gangs to tax drug dealers in neighborhoods and kicking up the money to MM members in prison and their associates — changed that. These kinds of killings mark a huge, though quiet shift in Southern California gang culture.

I wrote a story several years ago about the Dead Presidents case in the West Side Verdugo area of San Bernardino, in which, on MM orders, members of two allied, neighborhood gangs murdered their presidents: two brothers, Johnny and Gilbert Agudo, presidents of 7th Street gang Little Counts, respectively.

The victims and the suspects had all grown up together; some had been babysat by the mothers of the others. Yet the mafia had twisted relations in the gang to such a point that, like some Shakespearean play, they turned on each other one bloody night in 2000.

“After what happened, that just broke up the neighborhood completely,” said one guy from the area that I talked to. “Nobody trusted nobody.” Indeed, the gangs really haven’t reconstituted since then.

In Avenal state prison once, I interviewed a 22-year-old gang member who’d murdered a friend he knew from kindergarten, who was at the time even living with this kid’s family because his own had thrown him out. This was on orders of the local mafia member, who said that the friend had to go, apparently over some debt of some kind. The details weren’t clear ever to the 22-year-old, who, without asking a question, took his friend for a ride and shot him in the chest in an isolated part of the San Gabriel Valley.

He told me he wanted, above all, to be a carnal — a Mexican Mafia member — some day and looked up to the Big Homies the way a little leaguer looks up to a MLB player. He’d since dropped out and was on a protective custody yard, a Sensitive Needs Yard, which I’ve written about before in this blog.  He also said that because he looked sweet and much younger than his years, he had to do more violence to get the respect of his gang brethren. That was also part of it.

He’s now doing 55 years to life.

This never used to happen in Latino neighborhood gangs — this turning homeboy on homeboy, unless one had snitched. They were clannish things, happy to war with their enemies, but all about “protecting” the neighborhood and not ever about killing each other.

But this kind of killing has been happening across SoCal since the MM’s edicts on taxation were issued in the mid-1990s. Usually the orders come from some old incarcerated MM gang member who hasn’t been on the streets in the lifetime of those homeboys who are about to kill, or to die.

Now, one gang member told me once, when your best homies you knew from kindergarten call and say let’s go for a ride, you don’t do it.

 

 

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LOS ANGELES: “Some weird things wash up in our city”

The LA suburb of El Segundo saw a boatload of illegal immigrants come ashore on Wednesday morning; they were taken into custody.

Boats — flat panga boats in particular (used by Mexican fishermen) — are the new transport vehicle in the coyote business. El Segundo is about as far north as I’ve heard them landing.

At first, they were landing in San Diego, then ICE got wise, and they began landing in Orange County. Crystal Cove woke up to a few launches, with footsteps in the sand.

Now they’re coming ashore well into LA County.

 

 

 

 

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MEXICO: The earthquake that wasn’t

Yesterday’s earthquake in Mexico was a barometer of the country’s progress.

The earthquake in 1985, of similar magnitude, not only destroyed large parts of Mexico City, but was part of the shaking of the PRI regime, so poor was the government response to people in such dire need.

This earthquake knocked down buildings, but killed no one. Granted the epicenter was in a sparsely populated part of the country, in Guerrero near the border with Oaxaca.

Nevertheless, in the past, much less powerful natural disasters — floods, heavy rains — have killed many, as well as destroyed buildings, bridges, houses, etc.

Natural disasters are often a sign of a government’s effectiveness and competence. In this case, it would seem important to point out, Mexico weathered it well.

On the other hand, there is the continuing narco-violence, itself akin to a natural disaster.

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MEXICO: La Michoacana Popsicles changes name due to drug violence

This is a sad story. La Michoacana — the logo drawn up by a young marketing executive from the town that invented the fruity paleta — is changing its name because the state of Michoacan is too associated with violence.

Alejandro Andrade, a great guy, who I interviewed several times in Tocumbo, Michoacan, years ago, said he’s changing the name of the little Indian girl that has been the national logo for the ice cream shops invented and perfected by Tocumbans over the decades.

The new name will be La Tucumbita. Michoacan is just too violent a name to associate with a sweet thing like ice cream and popsicles, he’s quoted as saying.

In my first book — True Tales from Another Mexico: The Lynch Mob, the Popsicle Kings, Chalino and the Bronx — I told the story of the folks from Tocumbo who invented the Michoacana popsicle shops that are ubiquitous throughout Mexico.

The photo is from the years when the state was known for other things besides insane violence, beheadings, and wacko Catholic drug cartels. Above is a photo of Alejandro from happier times, and the popsicle monument that stands outside the town.

 

 

 

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MIGRANTS: A Oaxacan baker and the “The Radicalism of the American Revolution”

Juan Gutierrez, Oaxacan baker in Santa Monica

I’ve been reading The Radicalism of the American Revolution by historian Gordon Wood lately. The book talks about the ways in which colonists were breaking from dependence on each other and from Britain, from traditions of England, from old religions to a new, individualistic Great Awakening and new ways of thinking, making a living and doing business.

This break from the Old World and creation of the New has always intrigued me.

Thus I was fascinated to listen to the story of Juan Gutierrez, a Zapotec Indian from a village in Oaxaca, and the owner of Panaderia Antequera in Santa Monica, which was the first Oaxacan-owned business in the LA area when it opened in 1985 or so.

We spoke in his bakery (17th and Ocean Park) the other day.

He and his wife began baking in their house, then found the small shop that was barely surviving and took it over. With the huge population of Oaxacan Indians on LA’s west side (the reasons for which are themselves fascinating, but which I’ll go into later), business has been great almost from the start, and this has encouraged other Oaxacan Indians to start their own.

Living and doing business here, far from the traditions and customs of his village, Gutierrez has had his own awakening, new ways of viewing what’s possible.

Running a business in Santa Monica, he was at the same time dealing with the 17th Century, in the form of demands by villagers back home that he return to do what’s known as his tequio or servicio. Indian villages in Mexico require members in good standing to perform a servicio, unpaid for three years.

This communal custom goes back hundreds of years and has been essential to the functioning of Indian villages. Those who don’t perform it can have their land, houses and property confiscated.

Now, though, many villagers live in the US, with responsibilities up here. Even if they have legal residency, it’s still expensive to go home; if they do not have papers, it’s even more so to return. Plus, they no longer are thinking like the young migrants they were when they arrived from the village as teenagers.

Mr. Gutierrez noted that the village depended on remittances from paisanos in the US, who had also donated money to the annual fiesta each year and funded improvements to city hall and the local school.

He offered to pay someone to do his servicio, saying he had a family and business up here and both needed his attention.

But the village authorities, in his view motivated by envy and believing him rich because he owned a business, insisted he come personally, to be a city councilman for three years.

So for three years he lived in the Old World and the New.

More later on what happened.

 

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STREETS: Sgt. Dwight Waldo, San Bernardino PD

Sgt. Dwight Waldo, SBPD, off duty, playing his violin

At long last, my story on Sgt. Dwight Waldo, of SBPD and an expert in tagging, has run. You can read it here, and watch a video about him as well.

What I appreciate most about the sergeant is his passion and drive. Usually,when I find someone who possesses what borders on obsession for a subject, I know it will almost always make a good story.

In his case, as it happens, the obsession is twofold. Professionally, it’s tagging; personally, it’s for music. For the commenters below the story are incorrect. His music playing is not staged. It is something he does often, walking the streets playing a violin, or bagpipes.

As he told me, he’s become, in an interesting way, a lot like the taggers he stalks, fascinated with finding astonishing places to do his thing: atop a boulder in Gettysburg, a hotel roof, in front of the Queen Mary, or just getting exercise walking through his neighborhood. Of course, he doesn’t leave behind scrawls that cost strapped cities thousands of dollars to clean up.

A fascinating fellow. Thanks for your patience, Sgt.

 

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LOS ANGELES: Dwayne Alexander

I spent yesterday on the story of Dwayne Alexander, the counselor at the Los Angeles Job Corps who was stabbed to death Wednesday by one of the students at the center.

I was struck by how his friends, some from years ago, spoke about him, and overwhelmed because of that, as the day went on, by what a sweet and solid guy he must have been in life. They described him as “a gentle soul” and “a very kind spirit,” rarely angry and never a braggart. These would be rare qualities, I suspect, in the world of record label promotion, which is where he spent much of his career. I suspect also that they would have been enormously helpful as a job counselor for youths on the edge.

He seemed also the kind of guy who had a long-term goal — screenwriting and production — that was his guiding compass. No matter what he did, he was headed that way.

But he interrupted it all to go back home to Tulsa to help his mother recover from double knee-replacement surgery a few years back.

“People say the good die young,” R&B singer Millie Jackson told me, “and this was a totally good example of that.”

 

 

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MEXICO: San Pedro’s big mayor

Franc Contreras reports for Al Jazeera on Mauricio Fernandez, mayor of Mexico’s wealthiest town, San Pedro Garza Garcia, near Monterrey, and a larger-than-life guy from one of the country’s elite families.

Fernandez highlights a huge problem facing Mexico that the drug war has made clearer than ever: the weakness of local government and institutions, and thus the inability of local authorities to play any role in the fight against crime.

Fernandez, some say, is using connections to drug cartels to keep crime low.

But the main issue is that local police and criminal justice system in Mexico is simply unarmed, unfunded, often incompetent and hardly a weapon in the fight against narcotics traffickers and criminal gangs.

A different approach to covering the drug war. … Good job, Franc!

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SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA: Dorothy Inghram — the first black teacher in San Bernardino

This is a sweet obit — of the first black teacher in San Bernardino, who took an elementary school job there in 1942.

She later became the first black superintendent of a school district in California, and has a library named for her.

She passed at 106 years of age.

Quite a life lived.

 

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STORYTELLING: Hieroglyphics in prison

A great story in the LA Times today about a prison inmate who taught himself ancient hieroglyphics from his cell in solitary confinement at the state prison in Tehachapi.

He now writes to the Biblical Archaeology Review, arguing the findings of scholars.

 

 

 

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WRITING: The Commandments — What are yours?

What are your writing commandments?

As I prepare to head off to the Tucson Festival of Books tomorrow, I feel like returning to the basics of writing that are always so refreshingly simple.

My colleague Martin Beck passed on writing commandments from Brit George Orwell, which you can read here.

Ad man legend David Ogilvy has these commandments. I particularly like his view that writing is not a God-given ability, but a craft that anyone can learn.

Novelist Henry Miller chimes in with these 11 commandments.

It’s wonderful how similar they all are.

So again I ask, What are your writing commandments?

I hope it won’t sound too presumido to say that any Sam Quinones Commandments would include, in no particular order:

-Read a lot — above all On Writing Well, By William Zinsser, and Calvin Trillin, too (& Bob Baker, my former LAT colleague).

-If your story isn’t working, you need to report more.

-Cut as many words with Latin roots as possible. “Problematize” is a word I once saw somewhere. (Yikes!)

-Remember the difference between “that” and “which”

-Never use the word “ongoing” and be very careful whenever using “process” with an adjective, e.g. “the writing process” (Yikes!)

-Remove adjectives whenever possible. Adverbs, too.

-The ending is at least as important as the beginning.

-Leave the office. Now.

 

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MIGRANTS: Curandero Carlos, Guatemalan Witch Doctor

Yesterday, I met Hermano Carlos, a curandero, or witch doctor, from Guatemala.

One of the great botanicas in all LA, his place on Pico, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite streets in town.

His place is filled with soaps to Keep Hate Away, and aerosol sprays for love, and candles, Santa Muerte, San Simon, Jesus Malverde, and every kind of icon to ward off evil and welcome good luck and happiness. A lot of it’s made in China.

He said he’s been curing people since he was 5, and came here in 1988, fleeing Guatemala’s civil war.

Initially, he had some competition from El Indio Amazonico, a strange fellow who seemed to franchise out his curing shops and had several the last time I looked. But Carlos said those shops seem to be closing, so Hermano Carlos has more business. The recession hasn’t hurt either, as more people have come to him for help finding work.

He had to interrupt our chat to read the cards of a client who happened by. More later.

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STORYTELLING: Tucson Festival of Books

Hey all — I’ll be at the Tucson Festival of Books this weekend, with an event both Saturday and Sunday, both at 11:30 a.m.

Digging in the Dirt: A Discussion of Setting as Character
Panel / Sat 11:30 AM – 12:30 PM
Student Union – Tucson Room

Windows into Their World: Creative Writing with Latino Youth
Nuestras Raíces Workshop
Workshop / Sun 11:30 AM – 12:30 PM
Integrated Learning Center – Room 141

If you’re in Tucson, drop by…..

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