Skip to main content

Reader's Choice

Hmmm, for the next post I got a few ideas brewing.....any suggestions?

La Bandera - The Flag:  a group of high-school buddies now in their late 20s reunite for a Labor Day weekend wedding across the border that leads into some unexpected hijinx .

La Bota - The Boot:  sweet, Catholic school pre-teens turn Mean Girls when one of their own "betrays" the group.

El Sol - The Sun:  during the hottest recorded summer in LA history, a young girl experiences death  for the first time while The Nightstalker attacks the city.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

La Estrella - The Star

The sun had gone down by the time we reached San Diego County. On our right, we passed the twin water-power structures (a pair of boobs is what they're generally referred as) that unofficially mark the entrance to San Diego. We couldn't see the ocean but knowing it was out there in the night made this part of the trip ominous, like we were traveling along the edge of the world. At least it would have if any of us was actually paying attention. But we weren't. If we had run out of gas our incessant chatter could have fueled the car. Our high-pitched laughter was outdone only by the blaring music straining the twelve-year old speakers. Let's see, it would have been stuff like the Smiths, Depeche Mode, some Usher and Next, and a little bit of Tupac - it was 1998 after all and we were L.A. girls. Marina borrowed her mom's four-door Honda so we could take this road trip to El Valle de Guadalupe ( a town outside of Ensenada, Mexico) where her grandparents' ranch was ...
5 comments
Read more

La Botella - The Bottle

The occasional drive to my mom’s childhood home in the El Sereno hills was always a special treat. These jagged hills did not proudly display grand edifices purchased at high prices for their luxurious picture-window views. Recklessly strewn together, the neighborhood instead braised quick-tempered young citizens who were born into poverty and resided somwhere between American and Mexicano. After breakfasts at Nena’s Mexican Restaurant I’d beg my parents for the short detour that took us through narrow spiral roads and the retelling of countless adventures featuring hooligan rebellion. With eleven children and two adults packed into one small house, it is no surprise that the living energy behind its walls would push forth and conquer the surrounding hills. There was no shortage of stories my mom could tell. Each driving tour ignited a new memory. Here is one of my favorites… In 1976 my mom was 24 years old with 8 and 9 year old sons. While she worked night shifts at the post office, t...
3 comments
Read more

La Mano - The Hand

The gush of blood surprised him. It came as quickly and unexpectedly as had the rage. Eight seconds after the last blow, hand sent message to head that it was in pain. Nothing too bad - he had felt it a dozen times before. Deliberately, he released the tension in his right hand, regarding the white knuckles. His fist must have been tightly clenched because its color was just now returning. He considered the speed of his reflexes and began to feel grateful. His mind thought something and without having to be asked twice, his hand reacted. No explanation necessary. At 16 years old he was sick of explanations. Mom. Counselors. Judge. Girlfriend. They always wanted answers, justifications, tell me one good reason why I should . When nothing else went his way at least he knew he could count on his dependable hands. His mom used to tell him and his brothers that if they refused to go to school they’d be forced to work with their hands for the rest of their lives. Not a horrible alternati...
4 comments
Read more