Cloudmeister 18x24

The other night my alter ego met Emiliano. He's a pitcher for the Seattle Mariners from Columbia. His Tex-Mex girlfriend is a friend of Carmen's. The girls meet periodically to celebrate each other's birthdays. They are all Hispanic so you can imagine the riotous good times they have breaking pinatas and eating tons of hot sauce. The men were invited to this last party and since it was Lupita's fiesta and Juan Pablo was going to be there (my ex-neighbor and favorite auto mechanic) I put on my vest and boots and went out as "Paco". It was a great "pachanga" and we passed a food and fun-filled evening remembering good times and taking lots of pictures to commemorate this one. I calculate that 33-55 percent of my average, daily, verbal output is Spanish. That might come as a surprise to some folks but it has been that way for a long time...about half my life. It is as if we have lived a double life. Sure, there is a lot of Chicano mixing up of cultural stuff here in the Southwest. But that aside, we have two distinct circles of friends -- those who speak Spanish and those who speak only English. And since both groups are basically monolingual they really don't mix much. With both of these communities we have a long history...old friendships, adventures and shared heartbreaks and joys. We have pulled this off to such an extent that there are people who have known me for many years that don't even know my real name! I'm actually kind of surprised that Homeland Security hasn't tried to recruit me for some clandestine activity that involves slipping under chain-link fences and inconspicuously posing as El Guapo the trumpet player in a Mariachi band somewhere in Sinaloa. There are secret recipes I know of, and have privileged access to, that not even the most savvy, baja-traveling, Mexican-bullfight-attending, Puerto-Vallarta/Cancun-beach-going gringo has ever laid eyes on. Unlike my mexed-up life, the painting pictured here can be appreciated equally by people of both cultures.