Last night was one of those humid L.A. summer eves that can easily drive you out of your mind and/or drive you out of your house in search of basic hydration. It was so bad I would have settled for anything liquid be it coffee, juice, a cocktail, water…whatever, just to get away from the cucaracha breeding stickiness of my floors and walls and into an air conditioned cool L.A. social setting. Seeing how I live in an area which has no such establishments catering to these needs I stayed home sweating up a thirst beyond reason. Within minutes I began to pace back and forth like a caged beast out of its natural element all the while pondering the reason for this sudden feeling of being under socioeconomic quarantine. In a city such as Los Angeles, why should I have to get in my car and drive 4 miles to the nearest Starbucks for a cup of coffee; 5 miles to browse a real magazine rack; up to 8 miles for a gin and tonic at a bar with a good selection on the jukebox; 9.6 miles to stock up on my favorite Trader Joe’s items; 10 miles to catch a movie in a theatre that shows independent and foreign films; 10 - 15 miles for dinner at a decent sit down restaurant? The answer is simple I live in Boyle Heights -- a neighborhood which has been stripped of all things which make for convenient living. Being a lifer in the area I have been witness to the removal of all major supermarkets over the years. Nowhere in the area will you find a single coffee shop. Gas stations are dwindled down to just a few. Restaurants are pretty much nonexistent. Lounge bars went out with a trigger happy bang in the late 60’s and early 70’s. Even if I did want to take a walk I’d have to do so in the dark seeing how all street lights running the distance of Whittier Blvd. from the eastern tip of the 6th Street Bridge down to Indiana St. have been blackened out by the powers that be. Maybe I’m just being too impatient. Haven’t I heard that Boyle Heights is being targeted as the new “it” location on the city map? Don’t I know that soon will come the hipster diners and cool coffee hangs with bright colored walls and scones scattered with blueberries. Am I not aware of the change to come? The gentrification on the horizon will be met with a bittersweet welcome. On one hand it would be a relief to be in the midst of a community that makes my life easier but on the other I know that none of the pending changes are being made with me or any of the current residents in mind.
The Chicano community mourns the loss of its champions for our cause through life celebrations, tributes, memorials and Dia de los Muertos altars. Many notables and non public figures have passed on throughout the fifty plus years since the birth of the ELA Chicano movement and many more will soon follow. Activists, academics, professionals, artists, business owners and community members - young and old - have contributed to the vastness of our cultural collective. Each and every one deserving of recognition and appreciation for their involvement, passion and pride in their Chicano/a/x identity. This time we are gathering to celebrate the life and legacy of Eddie Ayala who passed away at the age of 63 the day after Dia de los Muertos, 2023. I met Eddie Ayala at the tail end of the 1970's East LA backyard party scene where local Chicano music icons rocked cover songs and our socks off for a mere $1 entrance fee. Although entertaining and audience drawing there was a need for...
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