I watched as mom slipped on a pair of shoes and clipped a sponge curler into her bangs.

“Adrian’s taking me to the Hat. Ask him if you can go too,” she suggested.

I shook my head, “I already told Danny I’d go with him to 5:15 Mass. Besides, I just had some chili cheese fries from there last week. Do you know you can get tomatoes and pickles on them?”

“Really?”

I changed subjects as she put on a light jacket.

“Mom, how often do I ask you if you love me? Once a month? Every other month?”

She thought for a moment before answering. “Probably every other month.”

It sounded about right.

The questions started in high school after she brought home Mama, do you love me? from the kindergarten classroom where she worked as a teacher’s aide. The children’s book focuses on the unconditional love between mother and child.

The sweet story resonated with me and soon I found myself imitating the little girl in the book.

“Mama, do you love me?” (Or papa, I posed the question to him too.)

Mom would half-smile at me. “Of course, I love you.”

Dad would respond, “Yes, daughter-child. I love you.”

It wasn’t as if I’d never heard the words from them before this point. My parents are affectionate and honest. Mom would sneak a note in to the bags I packed for a week away at Girl Scout camp. Dad would remind us he loved and cared for us after a stern lecture.

Years later, I still ask. I want to hear the words. I often go days and weeks without seeing them. Thus, the words provide some of that warmth I miss from their hugs and home.

But I don’t need to hear “yes, Cindy, I love you” like I used to. Instead, I see it as I ask for help or support. They come through. Always. They’ve been doing it my whole life.

“You must have a really great family.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you haven’t moved away yet.”

Does this mean the good news is on Facebook?

Way back when I was in 5th or 6th grade, I had to write a report on a famous person. I chose Edward James Olmos. I’m not really sure why, I was probably influenced by Stand and Deliver* and wanted to know more about one of the few Chicanos I saw in mainstream entertainment. I learned that his father (or grandfather, can’t remember) printed a newspaper and fled Mexico during the Mexican Revolution. I also learned about his roles in movies, television shows and plays I’d never even heard of, like Zoot Suit

Of course, his roles have varied. Via Wikipedia:

Among his most memorable roles are Commander/Admiral William Adama in the Battlestar Galactica re-imagined series, Lt. Martin Castillo in Miami Vice, teacher Jaime Escalante in Stand and Deliver, patriarch Abraham Quintanilla in the film Selena, Detective Gaff in Blade Runner, and narrator El Pachuco in both the stage and film versions of Zoot Suit.

Do you have a favorite Olmos role/scene? One of my favorites comes from Selena:

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*I just recently learned that my sister, a math major and aspiring math teacher, has not seen Stand and Deliver. What’s worse is that we have a few cousins who took calculus with Jaime Escalante! I felt like I failed my sister the day I learned that.

I’m a day late again. I also know that Chente isn’t a Chicano. Still, like Juan Gabriel, I can’t pass up the opportunity to celebrate his birthday and note his status a cultural icon for many Chicanos, even the pochos.

How many of us have felt a little more connected to the motherland after hearing Chente’s rendition of “Volver, Volver” or “El Rey”? I know I have. I came to this music through the most mainstream of channels: Chente and Linda Ronstadt. Still, it inspired pride, especially as I learned that some of his most popular songs were written by my paisano, José Alfredo Jiménez.

He may not be the best singer of rancheras, but he’s definitely done his part to keep the music alive and attracting new fans.

Below, I’ve posted one of my favorite songs. What’s your favorite Chente song? Any great memories of seeing him live in concert?

Vicente Fernández: De Que Manera te Olvido

“Always,” he replied with a sly smile.

She threw back her head and laughed and continued slowly dancing to “Volver, Volver.”

“The Hurt Locker… I think I saw that movie with you.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Let me check.”

“But you did, I know.”

He got up from the bed, walked toward a shelf by the door and picked up a large ziplock bag from the shelf. He walked back to me and sat in the bed.

He fished around for the orange ticket stub amongst more ticket stubs, photo booth strips, homemade cards, simple notes scrawled in the morning, and more mementos of our 18 month relationship.

“Here it is! Yup, I saw it with you.”

“I knew that already,” I said as I looked through the clear bag. I stopped and then spoke without thinking.

“So, is this the stuff you’re going to burn when I break up with you?”

“Probably not. I’ll just put it away, but it depends on the terms of the breakup.”

“Oh.”

End? You ask.

Of course. There will be an end. This isn’t the kind of story with an ever after.

Yes, it’s that time of the year again.

My friend, Rio writes:

What’s up to all my friends, lovers, and drunken makeout partners! El Rio’s Valentine’s Day Cards are back in the ring to take another swing for 2010! This is the 4th year of my cards and it’s turned into my longest running project. Enjoy!

As always, please post these cards on the pages of your friends, enemies, sexting partners, craigslist hookups, and friends with benefits. To see an archive of cards from years past CLICK HERE.

Enjoy!

Before our StoryCorps Historias’ session, I emailed my dad a list of questions and topics I wanted him to talk about. Once in the recording booth, I hardly referred to my questions and the topics I’d brainstormed earlier in the week. I just had to ask a couple of questions and dad did the rest. He can talk. Of course, I knew this.

We spent most of the 45 minuted interview talking about dad’s “little life,” or his childhood and youth. Dad touched on the joys of living on a dairy farm in Texas, playing stickball in the streets of East LA, how Grandpa truly touched people, and how he played Sabor A Mi during an assembly at Garfield High School. I originally planned to share parts of the interview here, but after listening to our discussion, I’ve decided I don’t want to edit it down.

I’ve uploaded the entire interview. You can listen to it or download it below:

Carlos’ “Little Life”

Since dad and I showed up on opening day for East LA we got a chance to talk to some media folks. Check out the LA Times story. Guess who was quoted.

And… many thanks to my friend Alex for being a great facilitator.