Methinks he doth protest too much

There is a very funny rumor circulating and swirling about the web regarding the lineage of Congressman Tancredo from Colorado. The learned gentleman from Colorado has been on a virtual rampage trying to prove that he's a real American by rushing in where ever and whenever he can to raise the issue of "illegal aliens." There is a claim that perhaps his abuelito may have been a person who entered the county illegally.

Frankly, I would not be surprised to find out that in fact someone in Tancredo’s family background entered the country and was referred to as a person With Out Papers, i.e., WOP -- by some insensitive type.

El Conejo

One of my daily routines is cleaning out the horse stalls. I mucked out the stalls and slid the barn door open. I reached down to pick up the cart filled with the latest batch of equine apples and liquid shavings. At that very moment, I startled a brownish conejo. I think it was a buck – he was about the size of a miniature poodle. We looked at each other and the conejo slowly raised him self up. In a very quiet voice, I said: “¿Pues how’s it hanging wabbit?” Well the homes just looked at me – his eyes dilated and he took off. I laughed – and thought about the countless times in the winter that I find rabbit tracks on the ground. Or those clear winter nights when the snow turns whitish blue and you can see the tracks and look up at the moon and see the conejo – and I’m reminded that – simon, soy en east aztlan – so far from home with a different consciousness about most things – y los bolillos never – well hardly ever – realize that some of us look up at la luna – and we see the conjeno and remember how it got there.

Que es la vida - la vida es sueño – and this incident is emblematic de mi vida loca en East Aztlan – un pocho con cavallos who gets visited by Señor Conejo.