National Guard In My Town

Yesterday I was driving my teenaged son to an appointment. We got stuck behind a wide, ricketey green army vehicle driving about 40mph on a freeway that has a 65mph speed limit. Yooooo! yelled my son. What the hell is this? The troops didn’t look happy. They stared at us and watched as we passed them.

Encountering a military transport on a busy public thoroughfare isn’t normal in my town. In fact, I’ve never seen anything like it. There are no protests here. No violent mobs. Not even rumors of any.

A few days earlier I went to a restaurant to pick up food to bring to my son at school. It’s a place I’ve been many, many times. I’m friendly with the employees. I don’t know, I hope the principal doesn’t turn me away with these bright blue drinks! I joked. No one laughed. They eyed me with suspicion. Was this a trick? I was I ICE? Was I going to call Trump Troops on them?

I went to my local comic book shop yesterday to pick up some new releases. Supergirl #2 and the new Batman & Robin Jason Todd series, the lastest issues of Conan the Barbarian and Mad Magazine. I won’t repeat the comic book store joke I told the clerk, because it was so bad. Three teenaged boys with skateboards came in. They started speaking Spanish to each other. What if I was one of these self-appointed altruistic Trump-believing do-gooders. Three teenaged boys talking in Spanish. They must be criminals. Call ICE. What would happen if ICE smashed through the doors. What would I do?

High school graduation is later today. We received an email from school administration assuring parents that the school doesn’t share student residency information with ICE or any other law enforcement agencies. They’ve heard rumors of masked agents coming to graduation ceremonies, handcuffs out, but these haven’t been confirmed in our town. The school assured all parents and students that, to the best of their knowledge, it’s safe for us and our children to attend the ceremony today.

What kind of world is this. Children torn from their parents. Constant chaos. Not knowing if you should leave the house, go to work, or even go to the doctor for fear of being kidnapped. My friends, my wife’s friends and my son’s friends fear for their lives. Bonds broken. No trust. Who do we turn to for help. Our political representatives are being handcuffed and restrained for speaking out. This is happening, right now, in my town.

I live in a bubble. I spend my days opening boxes of my dad’s stuff. I tabulate and photograph photographs, awards, cassette tapes. I post some on this site for you to read, see, and listen to. I think it might be interesting to some. When I have free time I work on my own music and career. I don’t worry about walking outside and getting arrested for the crime of being human.

The audio above is from a hard-to-find album by Cuban singer Omara Portuondo and Cuban guitarist Martin Rojas, from Charlie’s collection.

Viva los inmigrantes! We are all immigrants.

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Omara Portuondo & Martin Rojas

Originally released in 1975 on Love Records (Finland)

1. Siempre Es 26

2. Cuento Para Un Niño

3. El Desierto Y La Lluvia

4. A Salvador Allende En Su Combate For La Vida

5. Chile Presente

6. Lagrimas Negras

7. Pena

8. Hasta Siempre

9. Gracias A La Vida

10. Te Doy Una Canción

11. Pajarillo Verde

12. Tan Breve

13. El Manicure

14. Siboney

15. La Era Está Pariendo Un Corazón

16. Ayer El Sol

17. Viente Años

18. Los Caminos

Front cover. Omara Portuondo & Martin Rojas. CD. 1997, Love Records. Finland. From the collection of Charlie Haden.

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