Victor Villasenor - Crazy Loco Love

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Copyright 2010 by Victor Villaseor

Originally published by Arte Pblico Press, 2008

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Cover Photo: Chuy Benitez 2008

First Atria Paperback/Beyond Words trade paperback edition November 2010

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Villaseor, Victor.

Crazy Loco love : a memoir / Victor Villaseor.1st Atria Books/Beyond Words trade pbk. ed.

p. cm.

Originally published by Arte Pblico Press, Houston, 2008.

1. Villaseor, Victor. 2. Authors, American20th centuryBiography. 3. Mexican AmericansCaliforniaBiography. 4. Mexican American authorsBiography. 5. California, SouthernBiography. I. Title.

PS3572.I384Z46 2010

813'.54--dc22

2010023343

ISBN: 978-1-58270-272-8

ISBN: 978-1-4391-9382-2 (ebook)

The corporate mission of Beyond Words Publishing, Inc.: Inspire to Integrity

This book is dedicated to all fathers and sons and to all mothers and daughters.
There is no deep, dark, mysterious gulf between fathers and sons and mothers and daughters. There is just a different heartbeat for each generation.

Whatever you can do or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Thousands of geniuses live and die undiscoveredeither by themselves or by others.

Mark Twain

It took me a long time not to judge myself through someone elses eyes.

Sally Field

A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at him or her.

David Brinkley

Its not who you are that holds you back, its who you think youre not.

Author Unknown

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people wont feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we uncon-sciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Marianne Williamson, A Return to Love:
Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles, 1992
(commonly misattributed to Nelson Mandela,
1994 inauguration speech)

We, los Indios, los mescalados, the mixed bloods, are like the weeds. The roses, you need to water them and give them fertilizer or they die. The weeds, you give them nada -nothing and they live. You poison them and they come back the following year. You pour cement over them and they will break that concrete, reaching for the sunlight of God. This was my mothers power. She didnt believe in God. She lived with the Almighty, and miracles were her maz de la vida.

Juan Salvador Villaseor

My mother was so upset she was ready to scream.

Once more my dad had made a fool of himself and embarrassed her in public. She wanted me to talk to him and get him to understand that he couldnt go on behaving like this, or it was the end for them. I could see my mothers frustration, but I hadnt seen what happened at the charity function the night before, so I didnt want to get involved. But my mother kept insisting, saying I was twenty years old, an adult, and so I had to help her. Finally I agreed to talk to my father.

The bathroom door was open. My dad was tying his tie and whistling as he looked at himself in the mirror. I dont know why, but my father always put on his pants last when he dressed. First hed put on his red silk boxer underwearalways red silkthen he put on long black socks with those strap things around his calves that held up the socks, and then he slipped on his dress shoes. After that, hed fix himself a drink para el estribo, for the stirrup, I guess so he could mount up. Now he went back to the bathroom, sipping his drink, to put on his shirt and tie.

Pap, I said, mam is mad. She says that you made a fool of yourself last night, and she cant see how youre going to go to face all those people today after having done such an embarrassing thing last night.

He didnt say a word. He just kept right on whistling and working on his tie. It also angered my mother that she could be ready to go in twenty minutes and it took my dad a full hour.

Pap, I said, please stop whistling and listen to me. Mam is really mad. She says you got so drunk last night that you stepped on the mayors wifes long dress when you were dancing with her and almost ripped her dress off. Then you told her she looked like she was in pretty good shape and told the mayor he was a lucky man. After that you got mad at the bartender for telling you that youd had enough to drink, and you threatened to go home and get your horse and rope him by the neck and drag him through town. Mam says that people kept telling her not to worry, that everything was okay, but she could see in their eyes that they felt sorry for her because she had such a drunken fool for a husband. She cant figure out how youre going to face all these people today, and she wants you never to behave like this again, or

I stopped speaking. My dad was done with his tie. He sipped his drink again and began slipping on his pants, tucking in his shirt, zipping up, and buckling his silver and gold Mexican belt buckle. He still didnt say a word. He just kept right on whistling, happy as a bird in a tree.

Pap, I said, getting a little louder, I wasnt there last night. I dont know what happened. But if half of what mam says is true, then you

Its probably all true, he said.

Well, then, pap, I said, slightly surprised by his open honesty, mam is right, and youve got to stop this kind of behavior, or else

Or else what? he said, putting on his suit jacket.

Or else she says its the end for you two, I said. Mam is really upset. She cant see how youre going to face these people today.