Buying my '81 Cadillac Coupe De Vi

BY kiki

In the early '80s, after one of the boy's big money fights, I decided to buy a new/used car as my old '77 Cadillac Seville was falling apart. I left our body shop and drove to the local Cadillac dealer. I parked in the dealer's used car lot. I was just opening the door of the Seville when a salesman stepped up to the door and asked me, "can I help you, buddy?" "buddy?" I replied, " Yeah, buddy, I wanna buy one of your used cars" After looking at some used Caddy's, I settled on a one-year-old blue 1981 2 door Coupe De Ville…

After agreeing on the price, the salesman asked me to step into his office "so how are you going to finance the car, bank, credit union?" "buddy, I got my own bank in my back pocket," and with that, I pulled a brown paper bag full of dollars out of my back pocket and emptied it on the salesman's desk. I counted the money needed to pay for the '81 and put the rest back in the bag, got my bill of sale, and as I was stepping out of the office with the keys to '81 Cad. I could see the salesman thinking, "drug business gotta be good."

R.I.P: Danny Villanueva

 By kiki

In 1969, I enjoyed working with Danny Villanueva as a co-commentator on a TV youth boxing show. Danny, an ex NFL player, was now general manager of KMEX, channel 34, and he asked us, by us, I mean trainers working with young kids if we were interested in running a 13-week two-hour youth boxing show on Sunday afternoons. So, of course, we said yes in a New York minute. 

I was asked if I would do commenting in Spanish alongside Danny; I told Danny my Spanish wasn’t that good, hell my English isn’t that good either! He said not to worry that he would help me brush off on my Spanish, which he did for a half-hour every Sunday before the show went on air…The show ran during the summer, and that allowed us to have the show outside. I found Danny to be a really nice man who did everything possible to make the show a success, and it was. We had big crowds every Sunday afternoon.

Around that time, Danny and Ralph Gilbreath were co-managing a young Mexican fighter, “Rodolfo Gonzalez” Rodolfo went on to win the world lightweight title from Chango Carmona.

“It Was Not All Peaches and Cream”

By kiki

"It was not all peaches and cream" No, the '40s and '50s were not all peaches-and-cream. And nobody knows that better than me. A Chicano barrio kid growing up in a segregated town (Simons Brickyard, Montebello, CA.) attending a segregated grade school (Vail Elementary). Nevertheless, most of us growing up in the Brickyard had a happy childhood. But, of course, we knew that we had to stay within our boundaries, and we did. Was that the right thing? Of course not, But we lived in those times, and most of us came out okay despite the flaws in society. Sure, we had, like in any other town in any different decade, some dopers and alcoholics in our community, but we didn't have movies where parents couldn't take their young children. Or so many gun massacres etc. 

We felt safe playing our football/baseball games in the open fields of the Brickyard. We didn't need to lock our doors, much less put bars on our windows…For all the flaws in our '40s and '50s society, and yes, those decades had many flaws, I wouldn't trade the decades of the '40s and '50s for the times we live in nowadays to grow up or to raise children. 

Life:

“Cherish and take care of what you value. Happiness is fragile. Appreciate every moment and do everything to protect it.

The rest of life, in a sense, is background noise”- ?

Chata Kicked My butt

By kiki

Yesterday, Sunday, I walked from the living room to our bedroom; as I walked through the hallway, I noticed Chata asleep in the middle of the hallway. I figured I could step around her without waking her up, WRONG!, as I step over her, she became startled and started to get up and, in the process, knocked me on my butt; adding insult to injury, she nibbled at my heel as I was going down for the count. I didn’t go down quietly, though, as I threw a few F-bombs at her as I was going down. As I was lying on the floor cursing, Chata Connie came and helped me sit up against the wall; as I was sitting and checking myself, with Connie’s help, for any broken bones, I notice Chata looking at me, I am sure she was thinking ‘pendejo’ after making sure no bones were broken, Connie. Our daughter-in-law Veronika helped me off the floor. I then hobble to our room, and as I was lying down, I said to Connie, “I am going to be hurting tomorrow; I might have to cancel my doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning” (which I did because I woke up real sore) Connie then told me “you’re such a drama queen” more insult to injury! I think Connie and Chata are on the same team; they are out to get me!!

As I was going down hard, I was thinking about my dad. About 5 months before he died, he had fallen down. A dog was also involved with my dad's fall. Dad broke a hip and had surgery, but he never recovered and died a few months later.

Pants

By kiki

Last year Connie bought me 3 pairs of pants, not dress slacks, but the pants are pleated and cuffed as I like them and dressier than the 550 Levis that I favor. 

This morning as we were reading the newspaper, she asked me, “where are the pants I bought you?” “They are hanging in my closet,” I answered her. “I haven’t seen you wearing them; why?” “I wear them” “You lie because I haven’t seen you wearing ‘em; when do you wear ‘em?” she asked. “Sometimes,” I said, “sometimes, like when you go out on your daytime dates?” she said, “sometimes” I answered her with what she wanted to hear...She made my day!!

'Mike's Puck'

By kiki

Connie and I were by ourselves this past weekend. Hence, we decided to get out of the house for a while - Some of the Baltazar clan were partying in Mexico over the weekend - We took her car to the carwash, and after that, we were thinking of a place to have breakfast, one that we had never been to. I then remembered a place, 'Mike's Puck' (like in hockey), that my late friend Bobby Padilla had invited me to; we never did get together; he died before we could. So I asked Connie if she would like to go to East L.A. for breakfast, "Only if you drive nice," I told her I would drive the way she has always wanted me to, nice and easy. 

We left La Puente on the 60 Freeway, and soon we were behind a slow-moving pickup; I hit the gas and went around the truck. "Hey, you said you were going to drive nice!" she yells at me. "Ah, baby, I needed to get around that slow-moving a-hole," I replied to her. "Then every driver on the freeway is an a-hole. They are not driving crazy like you" I didn't respond to her; I just decided to let her have the last word because I'll never win. So she rode the rest of the way with her eyes close.

We got off the 60 on Soto, made a left turn, and went south to Washington Blvd. On the northwest corner sits this small gem of an eatery. Having never been there before, we didn't know what to expect, but we were surprised. The parking lot was packed, so the food had to be good. We walked in, and the first thing I saw was that you had to order on a counter 'shit, another damn Mario's Tacos, ' I thought; paper plates, Styrofoam coffee cups, plastic forks, and knives were flashing in front of my eyes. Still, I told Connie we might as well order; besides, we were hungry since we were there! So Connie ordered the ham and eggs plate, I the bacon and eggs plate, and we both ordered coffee with our breakfast. To my surprise, I was given two real coffee cups. "Coffee is to your right; serve yourself," I was told by a nice-looking young honey. 

After getting our coffee, we found a table in the small eatery. We sat and drank our coffee while waiting to be called to pick up our breakfasts at the counter, but to our surprise, a lovely lady brought our plates (real plates) to our table. The food was delicious; Connie's ham was huge. The five strips of bacon were outstanding, and the huevos cooked just the way we ordered them; they sure didn't look like the ones at Mario Tacos. There were no paper plates, Styrofoam coffee cups, or plastic forks/knives here.

Mike

The owner of this tiny gem is Mike, a guy I have known for years though we hadn't seen each other for around 30 years. The first thing Mike told me when he saw me was, "The last time I saw you, your hair was all black" Mike was in the boxing business as a manager. I remember that back in the '70s and '80s, he would invite me to his place, but I just needed to get around to going. Mike has been in this location for 53 years. He must be doing something right!

‘We Write’

"We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect" —Anaïs Nin