Welcome to Pancho Rancho
Strange Days
by R. Chávez
The other day I was talking to my brother about the all popular state of the economy. I inquired within about his personal financial state. “Not doing so well,” he said. He, like the all American story, losing the home, loosing a dream, all the while trying to raise a family and yet churning with artistic desires, somehow scratching a living laying down paint.
But anyhow, I felt a bit uptight for a second, just a second, being that I don’t wish for anyone to face the present state of the state. Then, just before I was about to befall upon the gloom of the conversation and assume the depression that usually follows, my bro shot back and asks how I was?
Let me say it been a while since anyone even bothered to ask. You see, I divide my time between three jobs all the while pursuing a graduate degree and of course keeping busy with the various personal interests and investments that I keep. All this to avoid going over the edge.
How am I?
“Busy,” I responded.
Ever since I could remember I’ve been busy; busy surviving, busy living, and busy dreaming. When does it stop? My friends often ask, as I stare straight into their deep dead eyes. Never, cause this is how I live. Busy, busy.
After that realization, I didn’t feel the crush of the recession, depression or whatever the hell, (yes pun intended). I’ve been surviving all along in whatever deplorable conditions some rich guy somewhere wants me to be living in. Dare I say IMF, World Bank, someone or something out there set it up that way cause in God we trust?
Anyhow, I feel a bit liberated, well actually free. Being that I came down to the most basic of reality checks. I’ve been poor all my life, at least by this country’s standards. I don’t have to lie to kick it. And actually my poorness, (if that’s a word), taken in context, makes me a richer man in other first world pillaged third world countries.
My complete existence has been a rehearsal for this very moment. Experiencing moments like these is not out of the ordinary, it’s the norm.
I, the son of Mexican immigrants, aliens to some, and very illegal to others, but whatever, we know who we are. Honest hardworking farm workers from a working class background. Living small dreams because that is how you live if you’re a campesino. There was no great Cesar Chavez to save my rear or UFW to organize my vineyard pruning ass, only lots of work for little pay. Good training for strange days like these, I tell you.
Misery has shown her ugly face for dinner every night at my house. Misery is our friend, es nuestra comadre, ¿sabes? And typically along with her came death, La Flaca. And every night we sit, eat, and laugh at each other ‘cause none of us is permanent in this world, just mere creations of our strange imaginations, just like the recession.
As for my brother and I, we’re both doing well. Living the dress rehearsal as we know best.
If you lived my life many of you would complain, but in all reality, if this is as bad as it gets, it isn’t that bad at all. Bad is somewhere else in the world that has been exploited for us to have what we have. Just wait for the bombs to drop, then it gets real my friend.
He dicho.
C/S
Down blogue!
I’m grateful to have had the “comadre” in my life. She now serves as a reminder that things are not that bad.
So yes, you are right. The lives of people in other parts of the world are far worse than ours. Here I am in an air condition room, with lots of food in my fridge, while others are begging for food, or being killed for it.
Interesting writeup.
I’m with you Bro! Your right, it could be worse!
Keep drawing!
I love your work!
PALABRA!
Horal Rafa!
nice article, keep writing!
I think you’re a better writer than drawer, but nice work…
This piece me a insiparado ha escribir un poema. here it goes:
Su tio Sam no sabe lo que es comer nopales a la buena…solo le gustan espinados.
Las espinas dentro sus hocicos dejan a los gabas mudos
Pero para nosotros de lengua nahuatl, quiche, mexicana, el grito de basta es mas fuerte que el silencio del gaba.
Rafita, I love your creativity.
lot about you
Very interesting….I love those funny looking pics a little more every time…. and Pancho’s body, where is it?…it’s just legs, lol….
You are right Raf, things could be much worse.
Glad to see you are using your time creativly while we sit and write the next scene. ¡Siguele hechando ganas!
Really good, Que bien dude keep writing.