MEXICO CITY DISPATCHES

When I was younger, I lived like writers Henry Miller and Charles Bukowski. There was no dearth of alcohol, drugs and women Odd-ball characters fascinated me. In my novels, short stories and poems I have written at length about the excesses. I have never been good at resisting temptations. Will the alcohol, drugs and sex come back to haunt me at the end of my life? At my age something has to be waiting around the next corner. I may meet my end because I ate too well. In the days when the Palm Lounge was my favorite watering hole, I would be sitting at the bar when an old codger would take a seat next to me and relate his life story. I would listen fascinated. I wanted to learn and the best teachers in those days in my estimation were graduates from the school of hard knocks. Since it was also the most popular hangout for sporting events, I would join others in the cool cantina in contrast to the heat outside to watch the big games and the great fights. I sti...

Am I nothing more than an ignorant beast? Am I a person who knows nothing? Am I an empty vessel controlled by my lusts? Do any of us know anything? Are we all slaves to our sexual desires? I am reading a book in Spanish whose title translated is 5000 Years of History. How many empires have come and gone of which we have no apprehension, but who have set the table for us? In the same vein of rummaging through the past, people have often asked, "Have you read the Bible?" I went to parochial school from first through eighth grade. We were introduced to the stories of the Old and New Testaments.  Every Sunday at mass the priest would recite excerpts from the epistles and gospels and interpret their moral teachings for the benefit of his congregation, but as I learned later, Catholicism wasn't Biblically oriented. While independent thinkers insisted that reading the Bible and absorbing its message was the path to salvation with no need for outside interven...

If the sky is the limit for humanity in general, then diving into the black hole is the limit for a confessional writer. To be self-flagellating and masochistic, you must be brave and bold. Or maybe you are fooling yourself? You are on a kamikaze mission and you want to take down as many as possible before you self-destruct. As a journalist and an author, I am bound by court orders to refrain from discussing certain political and personal issues. I could be stripped of my pension, fined thousands and sent to prison. So much for free speech. So much for telling the real story. So much for writing my autobiography. For a writer of such little fame, my pen has been the sword that I have used on myself as I have dealt with the repercussions of my swash-buckling prose both at work and at home. As an unedited journalist and author, I can say that I have broken most of the rules. There are few sacred cows that I haven't milked. But it has cost me. It has cost me th...

If you are looking for change, start with the weather: The highs and lows for Brownsville are 92 and 77. The highs and lows for Mexico City are 72 and 55. Should anyone be reading this story a 100 years after I have died, the day was July 15, 2024. For the first time in months I slept the entire night undisturbed by nightmares. I didn't drink yesterday, I had a light workout and I took two milligrams of Xanax. I wanted to go down for the count. I succeeded. I awoke at seven. When you are suffering from mental illness, you don't want to rise. In Brownsville I've been succumbing to new lows with the added burden that I have increased my drinking dramatically. It's not because I'm not occupied. It's because my mental state has deteriorated. Due to late nights stumbling back to my cell, I have a hard time climbing out of bed in the morning. I have suffered from anxiety all my life. I frequently slept-walk although I have no idea if that is symptomatic of...

I had a daughter named Gabriela Cristina who was born two months premature 30 years ago. She weighed three pounds and we had every reason to believe that she would survive, but the germ-filled hospital precipitated a series of infections that killed her three months later. Her existence wasn't pointless. She taught me that life has no meaning without death. It was a rollercoaster ride for Griselda and me. There were times when we were filled with hope, but for every step forward, she would fall three steps back. During one of those optimistic moments I commented that Gabby was having a good day. "Enjoy the good days," counseled the nurse. It has been a good day in Mexico City. I wrote in the morning. At noon I enrolled in a gym, hit the weights and did my Yankee yoga. Next store is a beauty salon staffed by three young ladies. I paid six dollars for a manicure. "May I have your eyes?" commented one of the girls. "Sure," I said. "I'm g...

At our last stop the driver told me were only a few hours from the border. Matamoros is in the state of Tamaulipas where the violence is so rampant and widespread that the state department has issued a warning for Americans to avoid this region if possible because it is as dangerous as Syria. It a battered and bloodied terrain. Heads roll around plazas, bodies hang from bridges and politicians are gunned down in their homes. This bloodshed takes place throughout the country, but there are particular states, Tamaulipas being one of the foremost where the carnage resembles a war zone. But the Mexican officials say that the highways are safe and if you're not involved in politics or drugs, your odds are good. Besides being a teacher most my life, I have been a reporter for more than 50 years. I'm supposed to reconnoiter areas where the faint of heart dare not venture. Should bad luck befall me, I ask but one favor of the mafiosos: Please don't ...