Mexican Fairy Tales: Tweety Bird Killed The ICE Agent & Other Wicked Tales From The Bloody Drug War...Farce Soils A Young Man's Life...

By RICARDO KLEMENT
and NICK RYAN
Special to The Tribune

BROWNSVILLE, Texas - So Tweety Bird killed the ICE Agent. Yes, and the plot was hatched over a bucket of Bohemias at The Three Little Pigs Bar in the Mexican city of San Luis Potosi. That's Tweety in the photo above this story. Actually, his name is Julian Zapata Espinoza and his nickname in Spanish is El Piolin. This is the Zeta gangmember Mexico says killed agent Jaime Jorge Zapata last week as the agent and his partner Victor Avila rolled down a highway on their way to Mexico City.

The Zeta is said to be a leader of the crime organization's San Luis Potosi branch. A raid by the Mexican army on a house near that same city yielded the alleged killer. But is this really the killer? With Mexico, you just never know. This goofy-looking obrero could be tried and sent to prison forever and who'd really know? As always, coy Mexico has trotted out another punk-looking Mexican to take the fall. It's all suspect, because of course we know that Mexican military intelligence is a joke. It's simply too easy to pluck some taco vendor off the streets and declare him the killer. That's no justice for the Zapata family of Brownsville. We suspect they have no freakin' idea who killed their son. So much for easing the grief.

It's all a fairy tale.

They say that truth is the first victim in war, and that appears to be the case with Mexico lately. The government is so crippled that it cannot control the warring drug cartels and is left to merely clean up the aftermath of killing after killing after insane killing. The government of Mexican President Felipe Calderon has become the maid of its powerful cartels. The killing of an American? Round up a handful of mercado vendors, rough them up a bit and pose them for the press.

It happened in the days after the killing of jetskier David Hartley last year in the waters of Falcon Lake. Mexico walked two pachucos before the story-hungry press and there went the photographs into all the area newspapers. Weeks later, the two alleged killers were released when Mexico decided it did not have enough evdence to convict them. Who knows what became of those two vatos locos?

There are those who now say Zapata's killing is a disaster on both sides of the border. They note that rolling down Mexican highways has been a crapshoot for years, so why send these two on a long ride from San Luis Potosi to the Mexican capital. From our travels across Mexico for The Houston Post, we know both cities have fine airports. Why chance an encounter with armed thugs fond of blocking roads? Strange decision some ICE supervisor must be wondering about today. Zapata and Avila were assigned to the U.S.Embassy in Mexico City and reportedly were on their way back from a meeting with other U.S. officials in San Luis Potosi. The ill-fated roadblock encounter surfaced and guns were fired. Jaime Zapata was buried this week; Avila survived the attack.

Again, a family grieved. Tears were shed at the passing of a young life. The sun rose and splayed the cemetery as if illuminating a moment that needed illuminating, perhaps wishing to bring the mess of murder out of the dark.

The revenge factor says someone must pay.

The bummer in all this is that the guy Mexico has in custody may not be the killer, and that would only aggravate the open wound. But, then, that's been the silly script Mexico has used over and over and over and over. The criminal Zeta Tweety Bird will face the music, but it likely isn't for this particular crime.

Que lastima...

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Laws Of The Land: How Violating Them Or Ignoring Them Is A Big Deal...A Public Servant Leading From Behind...Not Good...

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor

HARLINGEN, Texas - We were tickled and disturbed by the frankness exhibited by City Commissioner Kori Marra in explaining her dealings with the IRS about those unpaid payroll taxes her company accrued for that 5-year period that began in 2005. Here was a public servant blaming her mortgage company, accountants and an employee for the unpaid $20,000 tab. And here she was noting that she is not perfect, that only God is perfect. The laughter came early in our reading of the story in the Valley Morning Star that had Ms. Marra appearing as if some dumb blonde.

You know the kind. You'll say, "Look at the dead bird!" and they look to the sky before replying, "Where?"

It's been a rough week for the District 3 commissioner whose legend grows by the day. But is it the legend of a great public servant, or is it the legend of a woman with a flair for pratfalls and bad P.R.?

The jury is still out, although as the evidence against her mounts in the court of public opinion, the commissioner is very much like the deer caught in the headlights. Which way to move! What to say next! Oh, yeah, I'm not perfect.

Perfect, we should note, is not a requirement for dealing with debt. You just have to get it in your skull that debts must be paid, your personal debts and your business debts. That is the creed and expectation of a public servant. What resident of any voting district wants his or her representative to either fudge or bail on debts. Hey, if she can do it, why not me?

It is that perception that continues to cripple Commissioner Marra.

She has a sky-wide problem with the law-abiding electorate. In times of harsh economy, everybody fails, some more than others. But if you're going to oversee the dealings of your community, and that includes the business community, the writing on the conference room blackboard is clear. If I, as a city official, cannot make sure my business taxes are paid, well, can I expect that stiff at the corner barber shop to pay his? Ms. Marra may not be perfect, as she claims in the quote, but she is not free to excuse herself by way of a settlement payment to the IRS for a lesser amount.

What will the voters in her district do?

In the next election, will they be sympathetic because she is a single mother? Will they blithely brush it all aside, believing everybody blows it from time to time? Or will they insist on a better candidate, someone without the full baggage of rotten controversy? It's crunch time for Commissioner Marra. The ship will either be righted or it will keep sinking. Unpaid taxes, whether personal or business, have sunk many a politician. Eventually, voters want a positive figure to represent them. No one wants to say their elected official is a drunk, a playboy, a clown, a joke, or a loser. That's just the way it is.

Look, a dead bird!...

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The Twinkie In The Mix: How Harlingen Turned Its Back On Its Sweetheart...No Rodeo At The Rodeo...Yep, It's Marra Again...

"In a nation run by swine, all pigs are upward-mobile and the rest of us are fucked until we can put our acts together: Not necessarily to Win, but mainly to keep from Losing Completely..." - Hunter S. Thompson 

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor

HARLINGEN, Texas - In the vernacular of the breakfast cafes, City Commissioner Kori is toast - as in the band has played and the crowd has left the building. Local politics, they say, is cruel and heartless. One day you're in and the next day you're out. For  female politicians, it is nothing short of a marriage going sour. Every dress and business suit hanging in the closet looks like ancient rags from a second-hand store. You don't want to go out; you don't want to see anyone.

Is that where Ms. Marra is mentally these days?

That is the question of the day here. That long, long year of controversy never did abate. Marra tried her best to traipse softly through the glass shards of her pathway, trying like crazy to ignore the string of controversy that had consumed her days as commissioner. Guns and booze entered the conversation when citizens here spoke about her. Unexplained absences and weird alliances fueled the fire. It never has been a pretty picture. It never segued from election night celebration into accomplishment. It went south quickly and the reins of the wagon settled somewhere down by the front wheels. Saying nothing, the woman headed for the cliff.

Then came an admission that her company had fudged on payment of payroll taxes to the federal government. That brought additional derision, jokes at the cafes and loud laughter at the bars, only to be followed by a complete abandonment by one of her supporters - the influential Harlingen Blogger Jerry Deal. He dismissed her and called for her resignation, noting that Ms. Marra had lied to him. That drew another rain of jokes, especially on the point made by the commissioner that an office employee of the real estate company she co-owns was to blame for the IRS snafu.

Can Humpty Dumpty be put together again is the essence of a children's book. Is that where Ms. Marra sits these days, atop a fence, looking at the ground below and wondering if the fall is survivable?

The electorate will forgive. Perhaps that is something the commissioner never did understand. If only she'd come out and been contrite, admitted her faults and errors and promised better public service. But, no, that hasn't been to date any part of her style. Indeed, there are those who say she is wont to look down at the residents of Harlingen. And that's the sadness of the entire mess. The Tribune is on record as supporting any and all female politicians in the Rio Grande Valley. We subscribe to the assessement that it is the Macho politician who keeps the region sluggish and not any racism. we have said it and we have written it. Indeed, we have often shined the bright light on Brownsville City Commissioner Melissa Zamora for that very reason. She's let us down, but she's still there.

So what becomes of Commissioner Marra here?

We think it's all up to her. We think she needs to be a bit more human, to make public mention of her foibles, to acknowledge criticism and to speak to those she has long ignored. Anything short of that and she will be toast...

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Under The Volcano: Comfy Brownsville Parties As The Killing Grenades Explode in Neighboring Matamoros, Mexico...A Taco-Eating Contest & The Party's On!...

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor

BROWNSVILLE, Texas - The joke in town is that maybe, just maybe, the warring cartels across the Rio Grande here will take a few days off and come join this bordertown's annual paean to the lonely, but romantic Charro. Beer kegs are filled; residents can only hope.

Yes, the 74th Charro Days Fiesta set sail Sunday with the traditional "Grito" and the beloved taco-eating contest, but hanging heavy in the air also will be the killings only blocks from downtown over in Matamoros. True, that death stench has been part of the local atmosphere for several years, and, yeah, there's last week's murder of the U.S. Federal agent Jaime Zapata, a local boy. Still, the enchilada goes on forever and the party never ends...

What could dusty Brownsville do - cancel it this year?

Nope, that wasn't even a consideration. Backers of the weeklong pachanga note it was held last year and the year before that, and wasn't the war ongoing then? Plus, colorful floats are ready. Bands are tuned. Speeches have been written. Mexican clothing hangs pressed in closets across town. Send in the strolling Mariachi. Noche de Ronda is upon us. May God help the innocent victims caught in the Mexican gunfire. El Grito alone will free us! Eh, loco, pasa la botella. Brownsville will party and that's that.

Interestingly, nothing was said about the Fiesta and the obvious clash with the bloody cartel war, not by host Mayor Pat Ahumada, nor by Cameron County Judge Carlos Cascos. No brave public servant raised the spectre of potential mayhem. A killing in Brownsville? Hah! During Charro Days? Double Hah! No, sir, serious governmental issues have been settled: plastic bags have been banned, stray animals are being cared for, as per the mayor's wishes. Massage joints now get policing after the comical brouhaha at City Hall to do with the idea that some of these local massage places were rubbing social laws the wrong way. If only!

Everyone loves a fiesta. Mardi Gras returned to New Orleans as soon as it could following the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina. The French wasted little time in recapturing their gaiety after being freed from Nazi occupation during WW II. Berlin is once again a joyous place, having rebuilt its bomb-shattered skyline that was flattened by Allied bombers. Yeah, things do get back to normal. It is the flair of the Human Spirit.

But something is askew when a bordertown only blocks from its Mexican neighbor can't even stop for one minute to pay its respects to residents of Matamoros felled by cartel bullets. Everyone knows most Matamorenses know Brownsville well, especially its businesses. Some even have relatives on this side of the river. The connection is more than just geographic. If Brownsville were ceded to Mexico, few would spot any differences. Brownsville is Mexico. Brownsville wears Mexico. That is the essence, the raison de'etre, as the French would say, of the Charro Days Fiesta.

One would think that a civilized community barely a football field from its poor neighbor would spare those same people the sounds of merrymaking revelry during its uninvited time of murder and death.

It's not going to happen.

Brownsville must unfurl its celebration, mix its cocktails, have its feast, light the gala and enjoy its ball. It is said that humans party best when under the darkest clouds, when the threat of mortality paints the sky blood-red, when the thought enters the brain that, absolutely, I'll die for my next beer, my next dance, my next romp in the sack. Hey, leave me alone, vato. "No, no quiero saber nada de pinche Matamoros. Not this week."

Welcome to misery dressed in a black Charro suit...

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Silence Of The Lambs: How A Town Plays The Game...You Mess Up; You Get A Break...It's Small-Pond Politicians, See...

By RICARDO KLEMENT
and NICK RYAN
Special to The Tribune

HARLINGEN, Texas - That local brouhaha spotlighting City Commissioner Kori Marra's business acumen centered on unpaid employee payroll taxes. It caught the eyes and ears of many residents here. And the criticism that quickly went Ms. Marra's way when the news surfaced wasn't only about sloppy office administration. Many said it went to her character.

Marra offered a smooth,but topical explanation that did and didn't sit well with those who follow city politics religiously. Commissioner Marra, they said, exhibited a serious flaw. As noted by Ms. Marra, the blame fell on an office manager of a real estate busines she co-owns. The stoic Feds said the company had not paid employee payroll taxes totaling almost $20,000 since 2005. (This tax money funds many govenrment programs, including social security, health care and worker's disability.) Often in such cases, the employee checks reflect the deduction, but the amount is not forward to the government.

Commissioner Marra offered little other info, such as whether the amount paid was the original amount owed, or whether it represented a settlement after months of pursuit by the IRS. In situations like this one, antsy politicians hesitate before giving constituents a full accounting of the mess.

Ms. Marra knows elected officials have a duty to be frank and honest on things to do with character. Owing back taxes is a killer for anyone having high political aspirations. Here, perhaps because Harlingen is a small, unsophisticated town, she has largely received a pass on the matter.

Marra should schedule a news conference and take questions from reporters. It is the best approach when countering rumor and innuendo. And because she is a lightning rod for many in town, Commissioner Marra should do it posthaste. Take questions and answer them truthfully; that's the best response.

Interestingly, nothing has come from her colleagues on the commission. Nothing from her ally Mayor Chris Boswell, and nothing from her critics, such as Commissioner Robert Leftwich.

Sure, everybody has financial problems at one time or another. The Rio Grande Valley is full of business deadbeats, rank amateurs who tried their hand at starting an enterprise and predictably failed, leaving debt all over the landscape, or brash, heartless scammers who took cash from the poor and ignorant before leaving town.

City Commissioner Marra's business is not in either of those categories, but she is an elected official. And that places her in a higher scrutiny category. Without transparency and honesty, there can be no effective governance. Without it, what you have is a person masquerading as a leader...

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Brown Jeopardy!: How Well Do You Know Yourself...Worlds Of Knowledge Out There...Buy The Ticket;Take The Test...

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor

AUSTIN, Texas - The news this week included a long-awaited match pitting Man against a computer on the popular show Jeopardy! As could be expected in the Era of The Lazy Brain, the IBM computer kicked butt, easily outclassing the show's two all-time champions - Ken Jennings and Brad Rutter. So much for Man and his brainpower.

But there's still you.

Here, then, we throw some questions at you and allow you the chance to exhibit your smarts. Be honest. You'll only be hurting yourself by cheating.

(1.) It is named after a Spanish priest and is often the ground for cavorting teenagers and adulterers:
a.) What is Brownsville?
b.) What is Matamoros?
c.) What is South Padre Island?

(2.) He is a native of the state of California:
a.) Who is blogger Bobby Wightman-Cervantes?
b.) Who is Blogger Jerry Deal?
c.) Who is Blogger Jerry McHale?

(3.) This Democrat recently changed political parties and is now a Republican:
a.) Aaron Burr
b.) Aaron Pena

c.) Aaron Leftwich

(4.) He was convicted of DWI and reckless driving late last year:
a.) Blogger Tony Chapa
b.) Blogger Bobby Wightman-Cervantes
c.) Blogger Juan Montoya

(5.) She is a native of Pleasanton and now a city commissioner in the Rio Grande Valley:
a.) Melissa Vega
b.) Melissa Zamora
c.) Melissa Manchester

(6.) He is a Harlingen blogger known for stirring emotions and alleged to be from Mexico:
a.) Toni Chapa
b.) Big Mama Chapa
c.) Tony Chapa

(7.) He is the face of the border's fight against the Border Wall and the mayor of Brownsville:
a.) Pat Corrales
b.) Pat Ahumada
c.) Patrick Alcatraz

(8.) She is probably the best-known woman to ever come out of the Valley:
a.) Rachel McLish
b.) Kori Marra
c.) Selena

(9.) He moonlights as a P.R. man for semi-pro baseball in the Valley:
a.) Blogger Jerry Deal
b.) Harlingen Mayor Chris Boswell

c.) McAllen Mayor Richard Cortez

(10.) The City of Weslaco is named after:
a.) Well-known Pioneer Bob Weslaco
b.) The W.E. Stewart Land Company
c.) A long-lost RGV Indian tribe

Good luck. We'll post the correct answers later today...

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From Above, A Lasered Dart At A Detested Blogger & His Despised Foil...They Could Be Manly, But Maybe Not...A Pair of Dubious Homo Sapiens...

By BLOGGER M
Special to The Tribune

AUSTIN, Texas - Well, that little guy of stunted stature and even more stunted intelligence is at it again.  Once more he is trying to get some reader attention for his flagging blog by allowing Jake/Ren/Ralphy to post inanities while pretending to be me.

Obviously, it can't be from me because TC would delete anything I say because he does not allow any difference of opinion, no matter how civil, rational, or even factual.

 What really amazes me is that Jake will post homosexual rape fantasies about TC on other sites and TC is willing to ignore that as long as Jake will do the dirty work trying to smear anyone that TC disagrees with.  TC doesn't seem to realize that Jake is like a slug that leaves a trail of slime that follows TC and brands him as being just like Jake when he allows him to contaminate his blog.

TC tries to distance himself from the obscenities by posting a daily bible quotation, but, as they say, nobody can quote the bible better than the devil himself. The hypocrisy of posting Jake's obscenities with bible verses on the same page proves exactly that. Jake claims to be a former marine who served in Vietnam, a former prison guard, and a retired federal agent. The strange thing is that when you figure in the age that he admits to, he was probably about 13 when he "served" in Vietnam and at the same time, he retired so young from a claimed federal job that it automatically casts doubt as to whether he ever held any responsible position or that the "retirement" was completely voluntary.

Add this doubtful resume to his constant and proudly stated deviant sexual fantasies and you have to wonder why TC even wants to be associated with him. Meanwhile, I'm still waiting for TC's "formal complaint" - in which he is going to propose that I don't have a right to free speech. I think it's pretty ironic that he wants to try to take away my constitutional rights while refusing to prove that he is even a legal resident of the U.S. And so the sappy saga of TC and Jake limps along to the next  impotent episode...

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[Editor's Note: The soiled legend of the dastardly duo known as Jake and Tony is well-known. They leave their septic holes at dawn and look for prey when not looking at each other with longing eyes. We were told of the manner in which they have attacked Blogger M and felt obliged to allow her a full say here. As always, we encourage a vigorous boycott of the height-challenged Tony Chapa's comatose blog, as well as a constant attack on Jake's unneeded presence. Both have shown themselves to be the equal of diseased comadres...]

A Big Fight In A Little Town: Harlingen Break-Dancing Again...Blogger Songs Offer Harsh Concert...

By RICARDO KLEMENT
Special to The Tribune

HARLINGEN, Texas - Okay, so who plays the meanest border music around here - the Old Guard or the New Guard? Is it the graying guys scarfing down the oatmeal and swilling the Geritol ahead of the game, or is it the younger whippersnappers tuning up the instruments of change? We'll soon find out.

Harlingen seems to be readying a neat social brawl of sorts. Already, some residents of this boiling town of almost 70,000 souls point to secret gatherings by groups seeking to maintain the status quo and to more and more open meetings attended by those wanting the city to turn the page on racism and separatism.

Welcome to La Vida Loca, Rio Grande Valley style.

Scared silly by the emerging loud sounds of a new era, the Old Guard, comprised of aging political operatives and has-been local politicians, is doing its damndest to be seen as interested in a fight at the ballot box. They are said to be forming committees to discuss candidates and feeling out the current political lay of the land. Money, it is said, is on their side.

The New Guard counters with facts pointing to a community unable - or unwilling - to stem a vicious economic and social slide, this fueled by rampant unemployment, street crime that includes murder and the idea that nothing, not even servitude to one side of town, is forever. The New Guard has its players and its noisemakers. How far the movement gets depends on how much Harlingen, known as a sleepy, comatose town in Valley politics, is willing to test the waters of outright rage. Revolution is coming by way of harsh blogging and letters to the local newspaper. And there is no question that those seeking immediate change want to scare the Beejeezus out of the aging Old Guard, which, truth be told, is the face of Harlingen. It is for a reason that Harlingen is seen as the haven for senior citizens.

Talk at the coffee shops brings long mornings of carefully-dispensed thinking and eventual ranting. The mayor, they say, is in the pocket of the Old Guard. The city commission can't seem to break away from its historical inability to effect visible change. As one resident put it, "It's been years since the city bought a new palm tree. What does that tell you?"

Elections loom, although not for the mayorship.

Still, rebellious residents see an opening in the contests for the city commission seats that will be at play. Harlingen is a single-member-district town, so both sides are mining neighborhood talent, the Old Guard looking for anyone sympathetic to their side and the New Guard checking credentials and ensuring that their candidates know the script and what's at stake.

Will the music follow the mood? Which way will the winds of change blow? Who will benefit and who will fall? It is a talent show waiting for the curtain to open. The stage is set and the boys in the band are warming up.

It should be wild, and it'll be one helluva corrido if the New Guard gains the upper hand...

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At Long Last, A Biting Novel About Mexico's Current Drug War...Carlos Fuentes Tackles The Job...A Head As Chief Voice...

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor

AUSTIN, Texas - Someone had to write the novel. Mexico's current drug war, now going on its fifth year of horrible viciousness, is a bloody struggle that apparently can also speak from the beyond. Well-known Mexican author Carlos Fuentes has taken a stab at it, writing his latest "Destiny and Desire" so close to the battlefield sounds of his native country's killing fields that one of his central character is a head, as in a beheaded head.

The prolific 82-year-old Fuentes, author of more than 20 works of fiction and nonfiction, including "The Old Gringo," "The Buried Mirror" and "The Death of Artemio Cruz," is perhaps the perfect man to write the novel about how Mexico fell into bed with the cruel, voracious drug cartels. It is a graphic tale of politics, culture and circumstances.

He uses the principal characters of Josue and Jerico to tell the story, sparing no jab at the government and fictionalized leaders of the criminal gangs. Fuentes uses his deep knowledge of Mexico's history following the 1910 Revolution to place things in some subjective context. Where some say Mexico's entry into world-class drug distributor came only after the fall of drug kingpin Pablo Escobar in Colombia, Fuentes postures the idea that Mexico always has had a soft spot in its soul for crime.

Indeed, the country now counts more than 30,000 deathsrelated to the current lawlessness.

The "head" character becomes at once the conscience and victim of the mess, at times explaining the manner of the thug and at others issuing critical assessments of the way of the Mexican politician - a species described as having the loyalty of a greedy prostitute.

Perhaps it is the scope of the novel that grabs readers. Fuentes is not usually known as a writer of books of the like that James Michener or Stephen King publish, in the 800-page range, in other words. But this effort fills in many "cultural holes" newspaper articles covering the drug war never seem to offer. There are killings daily, say the newspapers. There is a bigger reason as to why that can happen almost as if approved by the government, says Fuentes.

This novel may not reach the heights of "The Old Gringo," but it does give the reader more than just the fact that Mexico is in deep social trouble. For Mexicans, it will be much better than any of his other books. It is something of an autobiography for the collective Mexican - blood, guts and all.

Mexico's disarray won't end soon. Big money flows easily across the geography, some even going to the very poor. Drug trafficking long-ago eclipsed the sort of income PEMEX, the national oil company, brought for the Aztecs, and way more than tourism ever promised.

Surprisingly, in the end Fuentes thinks like an American tired of hearing about Mexico's problems, believing that it may take exterior political forces to help clean up his homeland's bloody mess. It's no reach to say that he has a good-sized group of intellectuals believing the same thing. Yeah, I can see the bloody movie and hear the soulful soundtrack...

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In Search Of Law & Order: Valley Town Agonizes Over Selection of New Police Chief...New Blood Needed...A Thankless Job...

By RICARDO KLEMENT
and NICK RYAN
Special to The Tribune

HARLINGEN, Texas - It's been a few weeks since Police Chief Danny Castillo gave up the law enforcement ghost, enough time, it would seem, to get over any harsh feelings the community had about Castillo's perceived ineffectiveness. The Castillo era has sailed-off into the neverland of Rio Grande Valley police work, his story only the latest in a long line of who's-sitting-in-the-chief's-chair today.

Now, as an avalanche of applicants awaits the city's decision on its new chief, some residents wonder if any of the dozen and a half applicants has what it takes to get the job done.

But what sort of chief does a struggling town like Harlingen need? It counts almost 70,000 residents and a huge problem with bar fights and moving cantina brawls. There was one last night involving men fighting over who knows what, one or two or three of them springing knives for the midnight fray.

Does Harlingen want a starched-shirt administrator, someone fully knowledgable about the office paperwork? Or does it want a kick-ass, no-nonsense cop with experience in battling street crime, like someone from the outs of New Jersey or Southern California, where crime never takes a holiday.

The job is a thankless job. Chiefs serve at the whim of the city manager, and when things don't go well there, well, it's the Ol' the-guy-won't-let-me-do-my-job bullshit that quickly cripples the entire department. Crime is not for the office types. Former Chief Castillo was not the kind of chief to seek public attention. Unlike the police chief of McAllen to the west, Castillo did not find it necessary to be at the scene of a murder. His bureaucrat personality seemed at odds with the responsibility of being accountable to the public, and not just his boss, City Manager Carlos Yerena.

Perhaps what Harlingen needs is a Police Commissioner, a civilian overseeing the department, which would be run day-to-day by a senior captain answerable to the commissioner. Police work is not rocket science. Common sense would dictate that discerning right & wrong is the over-riding mission. The law is the law. Cops do their work based on laws. A police commissioner would bring the missing element to the equation - the public's perspective.

It has to be hard to police a department when a chief cannot even get along with his bosses, or when they see themselves as cowboys doing the public's dirty work. Some people have called it the Jesus Syndrome, this feeling by cops that has them seeing themselves as life-givers or life-removers. Decisions at a  shootout or hostage or domestic situation strain the cop brain. Often, cops fall victim to their own inabilities. They are trained to chase, get pissed, and throw punches upon capture of an alleged outlaw.

Much of that comes from the top, as they say in corporate America.

What makes it hard for a town like Harlingen, a town struggling on a variety of fronts, is that it is not an attractive place. What popular, positive-thinking career law enforcement professional wants to give up a job in a better place to swoop down and get into a mangrove swamp of politics while trying to solve the town's criminal problems?

Perhaps Harlingen is lucky to see anyone apply for the job...

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Why We Like The Things We Like: For Me, It's Always A-1 With My Steak Or Burger...Apple Turnover In The Morn...

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor

AUSTIN, Texas - A quarter of a century ago, it was curly fries that grabbed my attention, although I can't remember what fast food joint sold them. A warm pumpkin empanada always served as trusted companion to my black coffee. Dinner came with a catfish basket, or a box of KFC, or a plate of beef enchiladas. But those were my college days and, well, those days are gone.

These days, I'm like a child when I sit down for my still-black coffee and that apple or cherry turnover I get in a plastic container at HEB that brings us four of them, always crispy and well-filled. Crumbs cover the laptop by the second bite, but who cares - it's my morning palate joy. I'm sure you have your own. My running buddy in college, Paul Infante of Brownsville, would scarf down his Jack-in-the-Box tacos at 2 Ayem, soon after the nightclubs shutdown in Big D, those there on Northwest Highway along the take-off and landing route of the jets coming into or leaving Love Field. The last time I talked with him, he said something about still being addicted to the joint's drive-thru, only these days he is hooked on the breakfast egg sandwiches.

Anyway, I know there are serious issues flying about that must be addressed, stories with more social import than my culinary treats. I know that. But what Man doesn't stop and get off the main road every now and then? Must every Charro hat be black? No. You can lead a man to water, but he'll horse around. And it's not just men; women have their own quirkiness too when it comes to food. My ex-wife loved cheese; I can't stand cheese, any of it. She loved mayonaisse; I can't understand that crap. My daughter in NYC loves food from India; I reel at the sight of it. I could go on. And, for chrissakes, do not throw a freakin' flour tortilla my way; I find them wildly awful. Chips? I go for Cape Cod originals when siding them with a burger, corn when out for killer salsa.

As I've grown older, I've not seen great change in what I scarf down.

I'm still good for a well-done (nuked!) T-bone with a bottle of fine red wine, warm, buttered dinner rolls and a helping of barbeque beans, my own bottle of A-1 steak sauce. Pork ribs do nothing for me. I'm no prehistoric dog able to mash some pig's bones while reaching for spare essence of meat. You can have pork ribs; they're sorta the poor man's answer to beef, which, truth be told, are hard to find.

Has anyone had Navy beans? Whoever came up with that crap should have died at a young age. What a bizarre food. Navy beans? Ridiculous. And why no Army beans?

Chinese food baffles me. It's too tissue-looking for me. I look at a plate and wonder if I am not being served a pile of nerve endings or lymph nodes. Plus the stuff on the Chinese menus floor me. Everything sounds like Chicken Chung Poo or Pao Tao Wao. Those Chinese people never really tell you what the words mean, and so I conclude that it's their inside joke when unfolding the menus as you sit there like some lost moron while the carts bearing the Chinese delicacies come around and around pushed along by a woman who looks like she died last week who nods at you, never smiling.

I don't know.

Maybe the Helote eater has something. I smile when I see a woman lifting the footlong helote to her mouth sideways (see photo above) and then cross-sawing it with her teeth as if playing the harmonica, bits and pieces of the grilled, yellow-brown kernel skin raining on her chest and blouse. And then you notice she is carrying a few more in a plastic bag held tightly under her arm. Ah, the smell of helote on a wife just home from the fleamarket. Must be a kin of Viagra. Quien sobby.

So, it's almost 9:30 and I'm looking out my window. It looks like it'll be a sunny day. Little wind unlike yesterday's frigid killer. A pair of hawks circling the sky downrange, looking as if this is the day they'll luck into something tasty. Didn't mention oysters. Do they taste like mucous? I'll never know.

I'm reaching for my cup of coffee...

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In A Falling Town, Politics Goes Teamwork...Action Groups Sprout...Lookout Below!...

By NICK RYAN
Special to The Tribune

HARLINGEN, Texas - They're drawing battle lines here in this anthill of a town. Times are tough and revolution is in the air. Already, the town's politics have taken a nervy stab at fashioning a civil war of the sort not seen here in years. It is, again, as happens across this land from time to time, the New Bloods who want change now going up against the Old Codgers who like things as they are - calm and in stir.

On one side is a group labeled The Old Guard comprised of aging civic leaders who see sleepy Harlingen in the light of the 1960s, a community where everybody knows his or her place, on this side of the tracks or on that side. They feel threatened by a cold wind moving across from one city limits sign to the next. They have met to gauge the threat and presumably will meet again. Their names are well known, some admired and some despised. That is the burden of the oppresser, benevolent as they may be. One of its members is a man named Frank Boggus, shown in photo at right. Boggus is a longtime car dealer in town, and a man who, when the itch strikes him, contributes to a variety of social foundations and charities.

On the other side is a group of residents unwilling to keep the status quo, to keep listening to the false promises of inclusion, to keep bending over on dreams and schemes that rarely include them. The economic pie that has long benefitted the few needs to be sliced-up differently, they say in harsh tones. Harlingen needs to plunge into the 1980s.

Life here has never been a walk in the park. Daily struggles with unemployment and debt is as much a part of the familial tapestry as is drinking and spousal abuse. But crazy social blowups aside, what's easily distinguishable of late is a certain hellbent movement toward change, change the Old Guard sees as the potential end of its stranglehold over this city of almost 70,000 souls.

Can the newcomers overcome the so-called powers of the entrenched?

Is Harlingen ready to go all out for change? Will its much-whipped residents say enough is enough and take to the streets Egyptian-style? It could be something to behold, especially if the Old Guard hangs on its tried-and-true practice of buying influence and peddling crumbs to potential unaligned supporters. Life is funny that way. Already, some of the Old Guard backers are being seen as traitors to the cause by the opposition.

What it is is a moment-in-time for little Harlingen, a community once the third-largest town in the Rio Grande Valley that has fallen to the Number 6 slot, behind once-nothing towns that have found a vision, an energy and a dynamic to progress.

No one knows how things will turn out. Words are being tossed. Profanity flows under the breath of restraint. Fists go stiff, ready for something or another. The Old Codgers wince at the possibilities. The New Guard smiles at the idea of a hostile takeover.

It is a malarious time in Harlingen...

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In Immigration Fight, The Rio Grande Valley Should Side With Mexicans...They Clothe And Feed You...State Noise Is Just Noise...

By PATRICK ALCATRAZ
Editor

AUSTIN, Texas - Republicans in the State Legislature are doing their damndest to push onward with a series of anti-immigrant bills, an effort led by the likes of Rep. Debbie Riddle of Tomball. She would like to see Texas rid itself of a host of what she labels largely-Hispanic "problems," such as those terrorist anchor babies and schoolkids of undocumented immigrants. This comes after angst-filled discourse on the tried-and-true hot button issues of welfare, medical care and food stamps.

Oddsmaker are downplaying the possibility that any of it will gain acceptance, even as the Legislature counts a Republican majority. HB 22 is on the floor, as they like to say in the buzzing Capitol chambers.

But what does it mean to the various sectors of the Lone Star State? If it plays in Dallas, where the Republicans are strong, would it play in South Texas, where they are not?

The quick answer is "No."

South Texas, and we speak of the Rio Grande Valley, is so tied into Mexico that to accept the rising noise in Austin is to cut its economic throat. Like it or not, the Valley's residents live and die by the Mexican pocketbook. If it isn't outright purchases of homes in cash, it's spectacular weekend shopping in McAllen that would floor a Houston mall manager. You want proof: look at the local sales tax revenues to do with the purchase of gasoline, clothing, restaurant meals, vehicles, etc., etc.

It's not long before every Valleyite gets it clear in his head that to distance himself from the Mexican trade is to plunge headfirst into poverty. Harlingen is a prime example of a South Texas town not drawing on the Mexican trade. It is, at best, a town frozen in time, a community feeling the ceaseless movement of shoppers in the outlying communities, but never seeing it.

Still, residents bitch when moving up and down McAllen's ever-busier 10th Street behind a line of vehicles bearing Mexican license tags. It is a cry for death, because that is what would happen to the RGV if the Mexican shopper stayed home. In the world of Republicans, the scene is not American enough. They huff & puff and cry foul and scream for action. What action? The border is a land onto its ownself, with its own language, music, laws and economy. Someone like State Rep. Riddle would never understand. Tomball, where she resides, may as well be Peoria, Illinois - another whole damned world, in other words.

So, when she rises to speak against undocumented immigrants, she is rising against something she does not know well. It is a popular song in Tomball, but a stupid one in Brownsville. That's the way of the world on this issue. Immigrants are movers. They come and they go. It has been happening for centuries; it is how this country began and how it will end. As The Eagles sang, there are no more new frontiers.

Across the land, it has become fashionable to look at politics as the New Wrestling. Politicians find a button and, dammit, they will push it if it will roust a few winning votes. Damn the mission of a country in need of better ideas, leadership and workers. Our current politics is all for now, for the moment.

Nevermind that in the context of this great nation's journey, little if anything has changed.

We are still in great need of new blood and new ideas, of newcomers willing to do the dirty work, of an influx of what will bring us tomorrow. Political parties live and die on the noise of the day. We have two meaningful parties and a few fringe efforts. Republicans are not going anywhere, and neither are the Democrats.

No one disputes that America still needs a labor force and it still hungers for money of the sort that flows steadily from pocket-to-pocket, cause that is our capitalistic system. It really doesn't matter who's is working or spending, so long as enough of us are doing it. Immigration? We need it.

Anti-immigration? Obscenity...

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