Category Archives: de rebus texanis

HSPVA-bound! Congratulations Georgia!

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Ever since the girls entered the Suzuki strings music program at Parker Elementary, we have been dreaming that one day they would attend Houston’s Kinder High School for the Performing and Visual Arts, one of the top performing arts schools in the country.

It’s been a long and winding road since Georgia first picked up her violin (and later switched to viola), paved with honest hard work and genuine sacrifice.

Yesterday we learned that she has been accepted into the conservatory program there. Tears are welling in my eyes as I write this.

Congratulations, Georgia! Beautiful child, brainy teen, “old soul” (as so many people call you), you are a dream come true. You are my dream come true.

Not long before she died, my mother wondered out loud if she should have supported me more in my own music journey.

“Watching all you do for the girls’ music,” she said, “it makes me think I should have done that for you.” I really didn’t know what to say. “But you did all right without me,” she added.

Because of the tragedies unfolding in our lives during my teenage years, Judy didn’t have the bandwidth or energy to take interest in my creative or academic life. I was on my own. But I did “alright,” as she told me that day not so long ago.

Watching Georgia thrive and achieve a highest of heights feels like an empty space in my soul is finally being filled up with joy and promise. Had Georgia pursued a different field or path I would be just as happy. But that she’s doing music… wow… man… The dreams deferred (who gets the reference?) are making way for a soul fulfilled.

Congratulations wonderful Georgia! Mommy and I couldn’t be more proud, more happy, and more excited for your bright future! We love you! We love you!

How I finally found the family where I belong. (And they’re all coming over for Passover tonight!)

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One of the wildest stories of my crazy life is how I finally found the family where I belong.

Not long after I moved to Austin to be with Tracie (good move!), a man named Marty Levy started calling me from Houston. I knew who he was — my father’s first cousin. Beyond that, he and his family were strangers to me. That’s because he and my father stopped speaking in the early 1980s when I was a teenager.

As it turns out, Marty and his family like fine dining. Before long, I was commuting to Houston every week for one of the best gigs that I’ve ever had. It was thanks to Marty, a personal friend of Tony Vallone, that I began working with the legendary Texas restaurant Tony’s. The job and the Levys are why we moved here to Houston, a city that I love.

Over the years, the Levy and (Texas) Parzen families have shared countless meals and holidays. We have a lot in common (music, food, wine, academia) and we genuinely love hanging out and caring for one another.

Let’s face it: my San Diego family has never liked me. I used to be close to my older brother. That ended when he became a lawyer more than 30 years ago. My little brother and his wife have shunned me since college. In the run-up to our mother’s death, they seemed to want to have a relationship. But it ultimately emerged that they wanted me to side with them against my older brother. Nice, right? No dice.

Why is my original nuclear family so messed up? I attribute the fracture to the black cloud that has followed us in the wake of horrific crimes committed by our father. It’s not easy to love your own family, I guess, when your dad is featured in the local paper for being a prolific asshole.

Tonight the Levys are coming over for Passover. There will be nearly 20 of us breaking matzos together. It’s a miracle. I came to Texas for Tracie. But Texas gave me the family that loves me. Man, I’m one lucky son of a gun to have escaped the misery of Parzen family California. Gut Yontif! Happy Passover! I’m finally home.

To dream the impossible dream: Talarico for Texas.

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One of the most compelling speeches I’ve ever heard in my life was devoted not to the politics of nation but the politics of wine.

Back when the debate over Brunello di Montalcino was raging (in the wake of Brunellogate, where Brunello bottlers were caught adding unauthorized grapes to their wines, giving them an unfair and illegal market advantage), the appellation held a controversial and closely followed referendum: should Brunello be made with 100 percent Sangiovese grapes, the historic local variety, as tradition encouraged and law required? or should bottlers be allowed to add “international” grapes like Merlot, ostensibly making their wines more market-ready?

It was the legendary Barolo grower, Teobaldo Cappellano, who blew me away with his contribution to a debate streamed over the internets. He was for keeping Brunello the traditional monovarietal wine (just Sangiovese, as it had been made at least since the 1960s).

“Sometimes the battles most worth fighting are the ones you know you are going to lose,” said Baldo as he was known. To dream the impossible dream, as it were.

I’ve lived in Texas for nearly two decades. I can’t remember a year when democratic pundits didn’t claim that “this is the year we are going to turn Texas blue,” or at least “purple.” Rubber tree plants aside, it still hasn’t happened.

That won’t stop our family for believing in and block-walking for Talarico for Texas. Politically and electorally, our state remains Republican dominant. But that doesn’t mean that nearly half of our state’s residents are people like Tracie and me.

For the record here’s the opening of Talarico’s mission statement:

“Our economy is broken. Our politics are broken. Even our relationships with each other feel broken. That’s because the most powerful people in the world want it that way. The biggest divide in this country is not left vs. right. It’s top vs. bottom. Billionaires want us looking left and right at each other instead of looking up at them.”

To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go

To right the unrightable wrong
To be better far than you are
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star

This is my quest, to follow that star
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far

No matter whom you support, please vote this November 3.

WWIII is here and children are dying. We must save the children.

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When I first moved to Texas to be with Tracie, her father was still working as the pastor of a modest church in Orange where Tracie was born and grew up — a small Texas town straight out of central casting. I began helping out with the church website and we attended services regularly.

I’ll never forget Randy leading a prayer for “enemy combatants” (Obama was president and there were troop surges in Afghanistan and Iraq during those years). I’m not a Christian. I’m a Jew. But I was profoundly inspired by his prayers. This, I thought to myself, is what true Christianity is about: knowing, first and foremost, that all people are the children of G-d. Even enemy combatants.

Today, children of G-d are dying every day in Iran, Lebanon, Gaza, Israel, and Ukraine. Lives of honest, earnest young people are being destroyed for wars over weapons and oil: who gets to keep the weapons and who gets to keep the oil.

World War III is here. In Ukraine, it’s Russia vs. the West. In the Middle East, it is the U.S. and Israel who havelaunched a war of aggression on Iran, a conflict that has drawn in multiple countries in the region and beyond. The crusades of all actors are deeply intertwined.

The current American president campaigned on — let me see if I can get this right! — immigration, the economy, and world peace. When it comes to the first issue, he has delivered what he promised. I vehemently disagree with the policy and the tactics. But he has partially achieved what he set out to do. Fair enough.

But when it comes to the economy and world peace, we are clearly moving in the opposite direction from his stated goals.

Now, as always, is a time to pray for vulnerable children. But it’s also time to stand up and speak out: the war on Iran is wrong! It’s being driven by the interests of the powerful. Children — innocent children — are paying the price for the imperial aspirations of world leaders in their 70s.

There are so many things I’d like to be writing about here. But I can’t scribble another word until I say this. War is wrong. Children are dying. Stop the wars now! G-d bless the children. G-d bless us all.

Vote Jasmine Crockett! Texas isn’t just a bunch of John Waynes (despite what the white people think)!

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One of my favorite California-Texas put-downs was voiced by sister-in-law, my little brother’s wife.

“How can you live in Texas with all those awful people?” she chided me not long after I moved here to be with Tracie.

People outside our state love to put us down.

Back when she said that to me, I wanted to (but didn’t) tell her: what about all the Brown and Black people who live in my state? Are they awful, too? Or is it only the white people who look like you?

Guess what! There is more to Texas than John Wayne and the movies!

Anyone who’s ever spent time here knows the answer to that, unless they’ve only hung out in the Woodlands and at the Yacht Club.

According to the pundits, Texas has the largest number of eligible Black voters in the U.S.

And a lot of folks here are getting excited about Jasmine Crockett’s campaign for senate.

I like both James Talarico and Jasmine Crockett. But I am convinced that she is the stronger candidate for the moment.

I believe that she can mount a more compelling campaign against Cornyn or Paxton.

Can you imagine a race between Paxton, one of the most corrupt politicians in Texas history (and that’s saying a lot!), and Crockett? Even if she didn’t prevail, her ability to reveal GOP hypocrisy would further our cause.

G-d bless both Dems. But my vote is with Jasmine!

If you haven’t already, please vote, my fellow Texans! Either way, we need to show up on voting day if we want to change our country’s racist and imperial policies.

We’ll send all the awful people to San Diego to be with my brother and his wife. They deserve each other.

How you can help the immigrant community under siege: stand up, speak out, volunteer, donate.

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Many thought Trump couldn’t be elected in the first place.

Many trusted that he couldn’t even stand as a candidate after the January 6 siege of the Capitol.

But all those things came to pass.

Many thought his administration couldn’t organize extra-judicial ICE goon squads that would profile brown people. Many people believed that even if he did, ICE would be subject to accountability — not to mention common sense and decency.

It’s happening, people, even though we wished it wouldn’t.

It’s time to act. It’s time to act NOW.

A lot of folks have read about my pro bono work as a media consultant with FIEL, the largest immigrant advocacy group in Texas, based here in Houston. And many have reached out asking how they can help.

Despite lies about FIEL recounted by Houston Mayor Whitmire and Texas attorney general Paxton, FIEL helps the vulnerable in the immigrant community every day through education, hands-on advocacy, and emergency interventions for those facing wrongful deportation.

FIEL needs volunteers and donations.

FIEL is an education resource, especially for DACA recipients.

It also mounts stations outside of supermarkets and similar community hubs where they distribute literature on immigrants’ rights (“what to do if ICE knocks at your door,” etc.).

FIEL organizes ICE awareness groups (few in our neighborhood realize that ICE did a massive raid at an apartment complex a mile from our home).

FIEL organizes rallies and protests that force politicians to face their hypocrisy.

FIEL sends out court observers to monitor immigration cases (this is one of the hardest tasks but also one of the most important).

I could go on and on about what FIEL does not just for the immigrant community but for our ENTIRE COMMUNITY.

Please start the process of becoming a volunteer by filling out a FIEL volunteer intake form. And please, please, please, if your finances permit it, please give to FIEL.

Thank you for your solidarity with the vulnerable in our community.

Image via the us_icegov Flickr (public domain).

I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life…

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On Friday night, our oldest daughter Georgia marked her 14th birthday. The next night she celebrated with her mom’s pot roast (a favorite), a beautiful cake from our family’s official pastry chef, Fluff Bake Bar, and a sleepover with two of her best friends from school.

She was also surrounded by her Orange and Houston families. They had gathered for another momentous occasion: earlier that day, she had performed with the Region (as in all-region) string orchestra, one of the top accolades a Texan middle schooler can achieve in classical music.

The conductor spoke about how our region, 23, is one of the two most competitive in the state and arguably the most dynamic (thanks to the confluence of three fiercely engaged school districts in its radius).

Georgia was first chair in her section, viola, and performed a beautiful solo in the third piece.

The music was gorgeous, the performance extraordinary, especially when you consider the ages of the musicians.

I couldn’t have been more filled with joy to hear her play.

Maybe it’s just because I’m an unabashedly proud father.

But it’s also because when I see her, a straight-A 14-year-old with a rich network of delightful friends, I see the kid that I couldn’t be when I was her age.

My family simply wasn’t in a place where they could support my cello studies. And the vicissitudes of life had left me precariously adrift among my peers.

A few moments before the concert began, I squeezed Tracie’s hand and told her, I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life. And from the moment she and I decided to get married, every instant has led up to this, I said, this beautiful, graceful child who’s growing into an adult as she explores her creativity and curiosity unyoked from the burden of family trauma.

I’ve been waiting for this moment for all my life. Thanks for letting me share it here. Happy holidays.

FIEL co-founder Cesar Espinosa featured in Houston Chronicle. Please consider supporting FIEL by donating or volunteering.

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Please check out this week’s Houston Chronicle feature story on Cesar Espinosa, co-founder of FIEL, an immigrant-led organization that provides legal service and advocates for immigrants in greater Houston.

(Disclosure: I’ve been working for the last six months as a pro bono media consultant for the group.)

I can’t share the entire article here, but here’s a snippet:

    FIEL’s impact is measured not just in legal victories but in human stories. Stories like that of a father deported under one administration, reunited with his family after years of legal struggle. Or the mother who once served Espinosa dinner at a gala, quietly telling him that thanks to FIEL, her son had just graduated from Harvard. He said he still thinks about the young student who approached him after a workshop and said, “Because of you, I finally believe I belong here.” These victories, he said, are what sustain him through the long nights and heavy sacrifices.

Click here to continue reading.

The story of how Cesar, his siblings, and mother faced the challenges of being “undocumented” in this country is as compelling as it is inspiring.

When you read how Cesar and his family began working to help and protect immigrants, I’m sure you’ll agree with me that they are genuine super heroes for our time.

Please consider donating to FIEL or volunteering: FIEL needs people to challenge ICE agents at the asylum court; it needs bodies to show up at protests, rallies, and to populate information fairs. Just following and sharing their media on your own channels helps.

Check donation links and volunteer opportunities on their site.

And stay tuned: FIEL is planning a wonderful event for November 1. I’ll be sharing details here as soon as I have them.

Have a great weekend “on purpose,” as my good friend Annette Purnell likes to say.

Happy Juneteenth everyone! Do something on purpose!

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Above: Juneteenth and Solidarity Day in Washington D.C., June 19, 1968. Screenshot via The New Yorker.

Happy Juneteenth, everyone!

Here in Houston, the day is celebrated large, with a major festival held each year in Emancipation Park, the historic site where the holiday originated more than a century ago.

The above photo of “Solidarity Day” (Washington, D.C., June 19, 1968) comes via The New Yorker. It appears as part of a writer’s personal remembrance.

Can you imagine a sight like that today on the National Mall?

Click here to read more about Juneteenth, how it started in Houston, and how Houstonians made it into a national observance.

How are you celebrating Juneteenth this year? As my good friend Annette Purnell likes to say, do something on purpose!

If you happen to be in Southeast Texas and need something to do, please meet me in Orange for the Southeast Texas Impact Initiative protest of the neo-Confederate memorial there. Click here to learn more.

Happy Juneteenth!

Brown people are being “disappeared” in the U.S. We must stand up and speak out for them and their families and communities!

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According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the word “disappear” first began to be used as a transitive (as opposed to intransitive) verb in the 1960s.

As you can see from the OED, the term was initially used to describe the abduction and vanishing of political opponents in Soviet bloc and Latin America countries in that decade.

Today, the U.S. joins that list of countries whose governments have engaged historically in the practice.

On Saturday, more than 15,000 Houstonians took to the streets to protest the U.S. raids on Brown communities (among other egregious transgressions of American values). Tracie and I were there and it was an amazing and energizing experience (photo above).

But on Friday, I also attended a protest at a privately run ICE prison near Bush airport. There, multiple speakers shared their stories of family members who had been aggressively abducted and locked up despite the fact that they had legal status to be in the country.

In one of the most hideous moves by the U.S. government, I learned, ICE agents are lying in wait outside courtrooms in Houston. As it was described by multiple speakers on Friday night, they collude with the prosecutors who summarily move to dismiss the cases of asylum seekers. And as soon as they walk out of the courtroom, thinking that they are free to go, they are snatched by mask-wearing agents.

It’s entirely illegal: volunteer lawyers who have challenged the agents report that agents back down when they are pressed to show a warrant. One lawyer at the event managed to save 15 persons from deportation by challenging the agents.

In the meantime, these poor people are lost to the vortex of the byzantine immigration system. On Friday, I watched and listened to people weep for their relatives behind the walls of the privately run prison. Literally.

It’s time that we finally call this what it is: the profiling of Brown people and Brown communities by the U.S. government.

It’s anti-American and it runs counter to everything that we were taught to love about our country.

Thanks for being here and thanks for your solidarity and support. Please stand up and speak out!