Today is Hubby's Birthday

 

This cute chubby baby was born in Gainesville, Texas a few years back. His grandmother, holding him and known to him as Mammaw was born in Tennessee, married in Oklahoma when it was still Indian Territory, and passed away in Texas when she was nearly 90 years old. My Hubby comes from good stock.

Even though this is Hubby's birthday, I thought I would write about his Mammaw Zettie. I met her shortly before I was to marry into the family, and I knew her for a very short time, but we hit it off right away. She was already about 87 years old, but wanted to give us a wedding present. 

So she took scraps of yarn and covered coat hangers. We still have and use these coat hangers, and remember Mammaw's loving hands. The picture has only a sampling of the "yarned" coat hangers.

 

The Good and Bad Tamales

You can tell the holidays are here because El Pollo Loco has tamales on their menu. It must be the proverbial optimist in me that each year surrenders to the temptation of the seductive picture on the menu. Every year I have been disappointed. Well, this year was not an exception. I tried the single tamal on a small salad and a splash of sauce on top. I could not even eat half of it. It was too spicy and there was hardly any chicken. Maybe next year will be different.

One of my very earliest childhood recollections is related to my negative experience with tamales. I don’t know how old I was, but probably a toddler. It must have been Christmas eve or at least Christmas season. I remember being at my grandmother’s house (we lived right next door). It was Mama Mere who handed out tamales to us children, and then she went back to the kitchen, I guess. As I now know, tamaladas were social occasions to gather and chat with the other women while tackling the labor intensive chore of making tamales.


Anyway, I tried to bite the tamal that had been given to me, but it was too tough. I did not even like the feel of this tamal in my mouth, so I decided to take it back to the kitchen. I announced to the women in the kitchen, “A mi no me gustan los tamales con hoja.”


Everyone broke out in laughter. Of course that made me feel worse, but it was then that I learned that the tamal needed to shed the hoja—the cornhusk cover—before consumption. Mama Mere then showed me which was the proper way to attack the tamal.

Growing up, I know I must have heard this story of my experience with tamales over and over again. I know Mom used to repeat it to me anytime that tamales came up in the menu or conversation.


Funny, though, I found the question on how to eat tamales on the web. Several years back, I did find myself at a party where Mexican  food (including tamales) was being served, and I sensed that some of the guests did not know how to eat tamales. So, I try, with utmost diplomacy, to instruct on the removal and disposal of the covering.


Probably the worst tamales I have had were some that were wrapped in paper. I don’t even remember where they came from, but they were not good. It might have been in high school cafeteria or summer music camp, or some other such institution. Bad.

The tamales that I do like are the variety that I grew up with. They were not too big, nor too spicy. The masa was moist, but not extra greasy. Because tamales are usually steamed in large amounts, I remember that Mom always kept extra ones in the freezer for warming later. Not that Mom ever made tamales, but she would purchase them by the dozen, several at a time. She usually had friends who made tamales and they would sell them to her or give her some. I can remember having tamales for breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner.

Maybe I need to go back to South Texas to get a tamal that I like. Although I did take a class through adult education about twenty years ago where we made tamales as a class, I don’t think I am going to make tamales myself. There are plenty of recipes available out there, but I am only interested in eating a few good tamales!

The Fires in Southern California

I have been serving on a jury in North Court, so I have been short on time. But, I feel I should say something about the terrible fires that destroyed so much property last week end.

Here is a photo gallery from the LA Times.

This is the photo that I took as we left a restaurant in Fullerton. You can note that the time was 3:15 p.m. If you look at the lower left part of the sky, you can see where it is still a strip of clear blue. For us the fires were just a discomfort of smoke and ashes, but for the people of Anaheim Hills and Yorba Linda it was a tragedy. 

I think we will be done with the trial by tomorrow or Friday at the latest. I can't complain about jury duty. I won't be called again for twelve months. I was amazed at the number of people who were excused from serving. Most of them had what sounded good excuses--primarily health or hardship reasons.

The Golden Age of Mexican Cinema

La Epoca de Oro--The Golden Age--of Mexican movies was in the 1940s to the late 1950s (mas o menos). Today's LA Times had the obituary of one of the great movie stars of Mexico, María Elena Marques.

I remember as a child I thought she was one of the prettiest women I had ever seen. I don't exactly remember her movies, because they all sort of run together.

She is probably better known for the movie The Pearl with Pedro Armendariz. 

Again, I was too young to appreciate the movie at the time. It was later in her career that she made a couple of movies in the U.S., but she went back to Mexico where she was a beloved star.

I can't remember the earliest movie I ever saw, because the Mexican movies were always part of our culture when I was a child. In my hometown, Robstown, the Mexican movies were shown in a tent--La Carpa Jackson. The owner of the business was Mr. Stout Jackson, who earlier in his career had been in vaudeville billed as "The Strongest Man on Earth." Mr. Jackson's act was long before I was born, so I don't know if there was any truth to his claim.

I do recall that for some reason my sister and I visited Mrs. Jackson when we were children, and Mrs. Jackson had an aquarium that held great fascination for Sis and me. Mrs. Jackson told us that she liked watching the fish to calm her nerves. She also gave us a couple of guppies to take home with us. Of course, we did not know how to take care of them, and the fish died within a week or so.

Mr. Jackson would show movies all year long. In those days it was not only the movie that was shown. I remember seeing the newsreels that started with a rooster crowing. Also, I recall that when there was a picture of the American flag that showed on the screen, the audience would clap and shout. These must have been during the war years, but I don't remember a specific time.

In the winter time, the sides of the tent would come down to keep out the cold air, and in the summer nights the sides would go up to allow a breeze to cool us a bit. There were also times that Mr. Jackson would bring a group of movie stars, musicians, and comedy acts to perform live on stage. They were billed as "Caravana de Estrellas." Some of the actors that I recall performing were Jorge Negrete and Luis Aguilar. I especially remember the singer/actor Luis Aguilar because he had big eyes with bushy eyebrows, and he was making funny faces as part of the act. I continue to be a big fan of old Mexican movies of that era, both the musicals and the dramas.

The Heiress, the play

We went to South Coast Repertory last night to see “The Heiress.” I don’t know why it is one of my favorites because I usually like happy endings. The ending of this play can’t exactly be called happy, maybe avenged. The cast at the Costa Mesa theatre proved very professional, and the audience heralded a few ‘bravos’ and ‘bravas’ at the actors during curtain call.


This play was based on a Henry James novel and was first staged in New York in 1947, but it was the movie of 1949 that I remember. In my youth I probably saw every movie that was shown in my hometown. But in 1949 I was really too young to appreciate the drama—musicals were more my liking. My dad was not one to give ratings to movies, but I recall that after he saw this movie, he declared it “really good.” I was only impressed that Olivia de Havilland looked sort of plain. Of course she won an Oscar for that role later on.


Fast forward to my years at Laredo Junior College. Since during high school, I had been in the class plays both my junior and senior years, I became involved with the drama group at LJC. I did not make the casting when Mr. Kielson announced the play was to be The Heiress. I did volunteer to work backstage, and was given the job of assistant stage manager.
My work in high school plays had been light fare, so I expected the students at LJC to be about the same level. I was truly surprised, when I watched the rehearsals and the girl named Rosina in the role of Catherine Sloper was literally crying real tears! She was truly great in the role. I have at times wondered if Rosina continued to exploit her thespian talent. I don't recall her last name, nor do I know what has become of her.

Veteran's Day and Tio Gil

Today is Veteran’s Day. The banks are closed, and so are government offices. But I will pay tribute to the veterans in my family.

My father was married and father of two when WWII broke out. He did not volunteer for service as he was trying to raise a young family. He did get a draft notice, I have been told, but the war was over before he had to report for duty.


The person in my family who did serve during WWII was one of my favorite uncles, Tío Gil.

I remember his photo hanging in my grandmother’s house. He was a hero to me, and a very handsome hero, too. All of my mother’s brothers were handsome. But a man in a sailor’s uniform was a charmer.

The things I remember was that Tío Gil served in the Pacific. My mom would write to him and he responded. I recall Mom crying after she would get a letter from him and asking my sister and me to kneel down and pray for his safe return.


There was censoring in the correspondence at that time, but I recall Mom pointing out the phrase, “Gil is OK now.” This was probably used by many of the servicemen to indicate that they were in Okinawa. I don’t recall the year when this happened, but I must have been pre-school age. It is amazing that the phrase has stayed with me all of these years.


On my dad’s side of the family, all of my male cousins served in the US Army, and I salute them, too.

Serving on the Grand Jury

Earlier this week I received in the mail a solicitation to apply to the Orange County Grand Jury. It came while I was out of town, so I am still trying to catch up with my mail.


I have already served the County. My first panel was the 1994-1995, an 18-month stint. That was due to the Treasurer declaring bankruptcy December 1994. We knew that the investigation would need a whole year, so the panel voted unanimously to extend the normal period of 12 months to 18 months. The outlook for the County was bleak, but we recovered somewhat.




The second Grand Jury panel was 1998-1999. That was a year of change--new district attorney, new sheriff. I still recall the sheriff addressing the panel, and informing us about his idea of having a group of community advisors. Of course we thought he was talking real community leaders, not people wanting gun permits and badges. Oh well, we have yet to see how his federal trial comes out.


The third panel was 2002-2003. The ET Committee was one of the panels on which I sat. ET stands for Environment and Transportation, but we sometimes called it the Entertainment and Travel Committee because we enjoyed each other’s company and we took a few field trips in our charge of investigation.

Below is the committee at the Seven Oaks Dam. We still get together now and then, and I think we are due for another trip soon. Where are we going next?

I have only one thing to add. You meet some of the nicest people from all over the County. Most of us are sincere altruists who believed we could make a difference for the betterment of the County.

Had lunch with the King

There is a restaurant in Garden Grove that is all Elvis. Today we decided to have lunch with the King.

 

Even as we approached the restaurant, Elvis is seen on the balcony area

The food was OK, but we enjoyed looking at some of the memorabilia inside. There was no way we could have looked or read everything in this place. There were movie posters on the ceiling in English, Spanish, French, Italian, etc. As one enters the establishment, the Elvis below is there to greet you. I took the picture of Son and Hubby with Elvis as we said good-bye!

 

I could have cropped this photo, but instead decided to include some of the Elvises around there. 

I recall several Elvis stories, but the first one goes back to when I was a senior  in high school. I was on the yearbook staff. I forget my title, but I was in charge of the section that would sell ads to the merchants of the town to help defray the cost of publishing the yearbook. The teacher sponsor, a fellow student and I were making the rounds trying to collect sponsorships when the subject of Elvis came up. And my fellow student declared that she was not like those silly, screaming girls who followed Elvis around, BUT, she declared, she was truly in love with him! I could hardly believe she had said that, because up to now, I had thought that B was more matured than that.


The other memory of Elvis was the day that he died. I was working as a child support officer in the Orange County District Attorney's office. When the news of Elvis's death started spreading in the office, we all started talking about all the great songs Elvis had recorded, how he had gotten so out of shape, how Priscilla's make up was so awful, etc. Then on the drive home that day the radio stations were all playing Elvis recordings, which they had not been doing too much.


Hubby did attend a live concert of Elvis, but that was before Elvis became famous. Hubby remembers it was during the school year 1953-54 when he went to a Faron Young concert in Amarillo, TX. Elvis was the opening act, and his song was "That's Alright Mama."

Tía María's Passing

 

This is picture of mom and Tía María at the Senior Center of Robstown. I think it was probably Tía's birthday because she is wearing a corsage. I don't know the year of the photo, but I know it was after 2001.

It is with great sadness that I write about one of my favorite aunts. Tía María (also known as Tía Mary and Aunt Mary) was the wife of my grand uncle, but we never made great distinctions when my sister and I were growing up. We regarded all “in-laws” as part of the extended family as if they were true blood relatives and cousins.

Tía María was born 96 years ago in San Diego, Texas. She passed away Monday, November 3, 2008. She was of my mom and dad’s generation. Memories I have of Tía Mary are that sometimes she was a mediator during family’s disagreements. Much like my mom, she was often the peacemaker. I also remember her as the crafty lady, long before arts and craft became popular. She enjoyed working with her hands, and was a good seamstress.

It was not unusual to walk away from her home without a gift in my hand. She always tried to find something to share from her crafts. When I would be back home visiting with my parents or my sister, I would always make an effort to go visit Aunt Mary. The custom is just to say hello and catch up with family news.

The last time that I went to “saludarla,” Tía María was in a nursing home. That was a little bit more than a year ago. Sis and I went together because it was Aunt Mary’s birthday. We each took her a birthday card. Since she had lost some of her hearing, we had to raise our voice each time we talked to her. I introduced myself first, and she just nodded, unsurely. Then my sister introduced herself and clarified who our parents were. Tía María again just nodded, still uncertain of who we were. However, about five minutes or so later, her eyes lit up, and she beamed a smile at us. She stated, “son las de Tina,” pointing her finger at us. She remembered my mom’s name. Recollection of that moment brings tears to my eyes.

Tía María, may you rest in peace. You will now join your husband, your first-born son, all of your sisters as well as your mom and dad. I am glad that you were part of my family. God bless you.