The difference between L.A. and el D.F.

I recently passed through Los Angeles and one afternoon was driving around Hollywood with D.T., a chum from my school days. Happy hour was upon us, so we decided to repair to the Formosa Cafe, my favorite bar in the city, and one of the few that still looks more or less the same way as it did in the 1940s. (It is in fact such a museum piece that it has been used as scenery in various period films, including L.A. Confidential.)

At a certain stretch of Formosa Street, D.T. saw a sign warning that he wasn't allowed to make a right turn. There was no visible reason why not, he groused, and he didn't feel like driving around in circles, so he decided to make the turn anyway. I mentioned that this sort of logic and his subsequent unlawful action would make him not only a typical but an exemplary driver in Mexico City.

However, unlike in my home town, on Formosa Street there was a patrol car lying in wait for just the sort of miscreant who would dare to make an illegal turn. No problema: D.T., showing that he is at heart a chilango, simply stepped on the gas and tried to lose the cop in traffic. My heart leapt at the idea of getting into an actual Hollywood-style car chase in actual Hollywood.

Unfortunately the patrolman caught up to D.T. on Santa Monica Boulevard. He wrote him up a ticket for a stiff fine. D.T. will have the opportunity to take an on-line traffic course which, if he passes, will result in his getting the infraction stricken from his driving record.

Had D.T. actually been caught making an illegal turn by a Mexico City traffic cop, profuse apologizes and a 100-peso note (worth about $10 US) - "para el refresco"  (so the cop could "buy himself a soft drink") - would have been sufficient to settle the matter on the spot. Here D.T. enjoys a martini at the Formosa after the fireworks were over.

33.2

El 33 via Yelp

One of my favorite dives used to be located a few steps from the Plaza Garibaldi, where mariachis warble and blare for the minions in Mexico City. The hang, called El 33, was a bar where transvestite prostitutes began to arrive at two or three in the morning, to relax after finishing a night's labor. Until dawn they tended to drink, dance, laugh, cry and look for boyfriends - the real ones, not the short-timers in exchange for a few pesos. The place abruptly closed its doors a few years ago.

A little while ago a reduced version of El 33 opened in the same location. Literally reduced: Without the long hallway and enormous salon in the back, it is now one of the smallest bars in the city.

On Fridays and Saturdays there is a show, which includes an Alejandro Fernández impersonator, an XXL-sized drag queen who lip-synchs along to Lucha Villa records (while wearing a banana-yellow dress with embroidered daisies), and the woman above, who imitates the singer Alicia Villareal. She began by thanking "the most select drunks of Garibaldi" for arriving to catch her act, in particular a woman who, according to the singer, "was my boyfriend when she was a man." In the above photo, she demonstrates her maternal instinct with a particularly childish customer, mid-song.

On the road

By the week of June 9, my book about Mexico City, First Stop in the New World, should be in stores across the U.S. Hence, for the next three weeks or so I will be in el norte promoting it.

I will be appearing on various radio programs, but also making appearances to talk about the book and sign copies.

Here is the schedule of events:

Thursday, June 12 Idlewild Books, 7pm 12 West 19 Street (between 5th and 6th Avenues) New York

This event is sponsored by the Mexican Cultural Institute and a cocktail reception will follow.

Monday, June 16 Mount Pleasant Branch Public Library, 7 pm 3160 16th St. NW Washington, DC

Tuesday, June 17 Housing Works Bookstore Café, 6:30 pm 206 Crosby Street (one block east of Broadway between Houston and Prince Streets) New York

This event will be a conversation between the great Guatemalan-American novelist Francisco Goldman and me. There will be beer.

Saturday, June 21 Mexican Cultural Institute (co-sponsored by Cervantes Center), 5pm 125 Paseo De La Plaza, Suite 500 Los Angeles, CA 90012

Thursday, June 26 Martinez Bookstore, 7 pm 1110 N. Main Street Santa Ana, CA 92701

If you're around any of those places, please come. And if you know anyone in those cities, please spread the word. As far as the blog is concerned, I hope to keep updating it while I'm on the road. In any case, keep watching this space.

The only way to travel

Twice a week, one of my neighbors lovingly, achingly, painstakingly washes and waxes this Nissan 240 SX on the sidewalk outside the building. In the year or two since he rented the apartment, he has never moved the vehicle. It’s not for driving; it’s a fetish. Note that he has removed the headlights. I believe he did so because he is afraid that otherwise someone will try to steal it.

Bombshell from Caracas

The first time I saw her I thought I was dreaming. I’d had more than my share of alcohol when I arrived at a night spot called Bar Blu, and onstage saw a drop-dead gorgeous woman with cinnamon skin, encased in a little black dress with deep cleavage. She was playing “All of Me” on the trombone, and playing it well. In the entire history of jazz, how many women trombonists can you name? How many that look like this?

Pamela is from Venezuela, and she came to Mexico with her husband Moncho five or six years ago. She plays with an exuberant trio each Wednesday night at La Morena, a seafood restaurant on calle Michoacán in the Colonia Condesa. These days they are often booked to play at private parties, and at other restaurants and bars, but Pamela’s start in Mexico was not easy. In fact, she and Moncho spent their first New Year’s Eve here sleeping in the Parque Hundido, one of the city’s most beautiful parks.This was because she had fought with the manager of a discotheque, where she had been contracted to play. The manager – a woman – insisted that Pamela put on something besides the miniskirt she was wearing before going onstage. “No one tells me how to dress,” said Pamela. Three employees threw her out on the street.“It’s not the first tough moment we’ve had,” reflects Pamela. “Moncho and I love each other deeply, have two beautiful daughters and beautiful friends. I communicate with nature, the sun, the moon, the flowers, the universe, and I get over my problems quickly. That’s why we slept in the Parque Hundido,” she adds, laughing. “There’s a lot of nature there.”