Honky Mexican


I’M A NON-HISPANIC Mexican. A white, Spanish-talking, Georgia-born, grits-eating Cracker, taco-loving Mexican married to a brown-skinned, (mostly) non-English-speaking Latina born in a town called Uruapan, which you likely cannot even pronounce correctly, but I can.

I’m an American lefty’s multicultural wet dream, more diverse than most anybody you know above the Rio Bravo. Ain’t dat something?

Georgia flag

But I don’t demand respect or preferences or a front-row seat in any university classroom or boardroom or any sort of room whatsoever. I mind my own business and drink my cafecitos quietly.

I don’t support multiculturalism in spite of being one of its shining stars.

Ain’t dat something too?

I’m a honky Mexican, a member of a very elite group.

We fly no angry banners. We hold no meetings. We never take to the streets in a snit. We came into the country legally, and went through the process, jumped through the hoops and got the papers. Now we’re just danged happy to be here.

Looking around, I see universities, scholarships, trade schools, help-wanted ads in newspapers and in store windows, ease of starting a business, modern shopping malls, love of capitalism, great highways, a fine healthcare system, an improving economy, and a growing middle class.

It’s enough to make a honky Mexican grin into his plate of beans while he’s dreaming of grits and butter.

Sunny side up

Like all pre-menopausal women, Bett produced a monthly egg. But it wasn’t like the egg of other women. It was more like a condor’s.

eggShe had never married, and she’d never taken the issue to a medical professional. It was her secret. She had a nest in the spare bedroom, made of pillows and potpourri, not twigs.

And none of her eggs had ever hatched. Bett assumed that if she kept one warm, like good mothers should, it would in time vibrate and crack open. And there would be her baby.

Or likely not, due to lack of fertilization. Bett had no boyfriend.

So she ate them. Over easy. Sunny side up. Scrambled.

They even poached.

And they were great with grits.