Category Archives: de rebus texanis

Lorenzo Salgado Araujo “was damned well a Houstonian.” Say his name! ICE murders must stop!

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Tracie and I are praying for the family of Lorenzo Salgado Araujo. He was fatally shot by ICE agents here in Houston on Tuesday morning.

His crime? He was undocumented. No criminal history. More than half of his life spent in Houston working to build a life for his family.

I was blown away this morning by a line from our paper of record, the Houston Chronicle. Its editors published an opinion yesterday entitled “ICE lies. And now they’ve killed a Houstonian.”

“Lorenzo may not have been an American on paper,” the paper’s editorial board wrote, “but he was damned well a Houstonian.”

That’s what the MAGA hegemon refuses to acknowledge: they are killing their fellow citizens, whether Minneapolitans or now a Houstonian. Last year, they were forced to admit that they killed an San Antonian American citizen in Texas as well. At least 20 people have died in ICE custody this year. Last year, 33 persons died in ICE custody.

Please say Lorenzo’s name! Please support your community by letting your fellow Americans — documented or undocumented — know that we see them, that we care about them, that they are citizens of our communities. Please remember that people in your city are forced to live with the constant fear that masked men in unmarked cars may prey on them or their loved ones without any notice.

On MLK Day this year, Rev. Jefferson, the leader of the Orange, Texas chapter of the NAACP, said what everyone has been thinking. ICE is the new Ku Klux Klan, he told the crowd gathered for celebration at Mt. Olive Church.

We’ll see if our mayor or our governor will make sure that ICE is held accountable for the killing of yet another productive member of society. In the meantime, we will continue to protest in the southeast Texas summer heat and we will continue to pray.

G-d bless Lorenzo Salgado Araujo and his family. G-d please, please protect our communities from ICE.

The Reflecting Pool fiasco is a good omen.

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The Mountain Dew hue of Trump’s botched Reflecting Pool restoration has become a stand-in for the grand level of his incompetence. He is the sparkling New York realtor and TV star who lacks the wherewithal of even your garden-variety swimming pool maintenance technician. And why is the president of the U.S. busying himself with such mundane issues when the rest of the world is on fire?

Click here to read my post this week for Southeast Texas Impact Initiative.

Impact, as we members of the group shorthand it, is a widely active and highly disciplined progressive group in Orange County, Texas, a land where Ruby Red Republicans outnumber Democrats four to one.

Weekly protests in Rogers Park in Beaumont, weekly Zoom meetings where Orange County residents can learn how to get involved in local politics, aggressive representation at city council and planning meetings… These guys are doing the day-to-day work, making sure that Democratic voices are heard in a place where they have been historically suppressed.

If you live in Orange, County (which includes the city of Orange, where Tracie grew up and where we spend a lot of time with family), please join up!

And if you want to support from afar, please donate via the group’s website.

Thanks for being there. Thanks for being here. And thanks for reading.

Juneteenth remains a beacon of hope. Celebrate the holiday with me by protesting at the Neo-Confederate monument in Orange, Texas.

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Thanks again to everyone who called and wrote after my father died last week. It’s been a rough time. Your support means the world.

I’m excited to share my first post for Southeast Texas Impact Initiative, a Beaumont-based group that organizes, advocates, and protests against the current MAGA hegemony.

Please join me and members of the initiative as we celebrate Juneteenth by protesting from 4-6pm at the Neo-Confederate monument in Orange, Texas, where Tracie grew up. (DM me if you need more info.)

Tracie and I have been mounting protests at the site since 2017. We couldn’t be more thrilled that the initiative has now taken the lead on reminding the Sons of Confederate Veterans that conspicuous displays of racist iconography are no longer acceptable in our society.

No matter what you do to observe the federal holiday on Friday, do something on purpose, like my friend Annette Purnell, a former Orange council woman, likes to say.

Thanks for checking out my post. Hope to see you on Friday. Happy Juneteenth!

“Juneteenth Remains a Beacon of Hope for the Future, even in Bleak Gerrymandering Times.”

I’ve lived in Texas since 2008. I’ve been gerrymandered twice.

The first redrawing happened when our state lawmakers sought to go after Al Green’s seat in Houston. The district where I lived had finally flipped blue. It had been solidly red since the time of George Bush senior, who first went to Washington representing the neighborhood where I’ve lived since moving to SETX. Suddenly, Al Green was now my new congressman. I supported him gladly.

The second venture in surreal cartography infamously came recently when the house where I live with my family became part of a new district, now the only majority-Black district in the city.

There’s a disconnect that often happens when you try to explain Republican gerrymandering to someone who’s never lived in the south. While segregation exists throughout the U.S., southern emargination, with its origins stretching back to the Civil War, has created a unique overlap and interconnection between geography, race, and politics. It’s because our cities are more deeply divided along racial lines than in other parts of the country…

Click here to continue reading on the Southeast Texas Impact Initiative Substack.

Ken Paxton is no “gift” to Democrats.

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A lot of eyes turned to Texas last night as Ken Paxton’s U.S. senate primary win over John Cornyn suddenly prompted political observers to claim that “Texas might now be in play” for Democrats (despite decades of unfulfilled wishful thinking that the state might turn Blue).

For those who are just beginning to wrap their minds around Paxton’s rise, let’s be crystal-eyed clear: Paxton is no “gift” for Democrats.

In 2023 Paxton, the state’s attorney general, was impeached by our Republican-dominated house of representatives. The impeachment was led by the former speaker, Dade Phelan, one of the most conservative politicians in the state (we follow him closely because he represents the county where Tracie grew up, Orange, a conservative bastion). The vote to move forward with the senate trial was 121-23. At the time, 60 of 80 Republicans — in Texas! — voted to impeach him! That gives you a sense of just how loathsome Paxton is in this Red state.

Paxton’s own staff of lawyers quit on him after accusing him of bribery and misuse of his office. His own hand-picked staff! Paxton has associated with a convicted, corrupt Austin real estate developer, the same one that let the attorney general use his Uber account so that he could meet with his adulterous love interest and then gave her a job.

Tracie and I were eager to watch the primary returns last night. Beyond the Cornyn/Paxton fight to the death, there were two contentious races in Texas where rabid antisemitism was a key element (one of the racists, a Democrat, lost; another, a Republican, won).

It’s exciting to believe that Talarico, the Democratic candidate for U.S. senate, might have a chance to beat “the most corrupt politician in America,” as Talarico’s team has already branded Paxton in their ads this morning.

But it’s also saddening to think that we may be represented in the senate by two of the most hated politicians of our era, Cruz and Paxton, both in lockstep with MAGA.

Daunted but not deterred, Tracie and I will be working hard for Talarico by block-walking. We can’t afford to lose this one.

A more lighthearted political taco kerfuffle in Texas.

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Just when I thought that the nation’s taco culture wars were subsiding, yet another political taco kerfuffle took shape after James Talarico and Barack Obama shared breakfast tacos in Austin earlier this week.

“Talarico’s Taco Order Turns Into a Texas-Sized Debate” was the headline reported by the Times: “What started as a taco stop with former President Barack Obama quickly turned into a very Texas debate over the proper breakfast taco order.”

At one point in the story, Governor Greg Abbott, the mini Texas Trump, insinuates that Talarico is a closeted vegetarian. Yes, you read that right. Vegetarianism is now a political liability, at the least in the minds of some Republicans. Oh my!

All this talk of breakfast tacos inspired me to head to my favorite Houston breakfast taco place and enjoy a couple.

Those are the “egg/potato/cheese tacos on corn [tortillas]” at Tamales Don Pepe not far from where Tracie and I live.

I first got hooked on breakfast tacos when we lived in Austin (where the girls were born). Those who have never visited the state capital might be surprised to learn that “breakfast taco” is a synecdoche for an entire culture there.

There are breakfast tacos everywhere: at modest taquerias, at bougie breakfast restaurants, fancy restaurants for rich folk, at gas stations…

In my view and experience, the whole point of the breakfast taco is that you customize it to suit your tastes. It’s a personalized expression of individual liberty

This morning, I got the classic egg/potato/cheese but I ordered mine “on corn” tortillas. Flour tortillas are arguably the default vessels.

Some people criticized Talarico, a native of central Texas (where Austin is located), for ordering a breakfast taco at 2 p.m.

Anyone who’s ever lived in Austin — “the live music capital of the world” — knows that musicians often don’t have breakfast until the early afternoon. (I used to be a musician in Austin, myself.)

There’s another best-kept-secret about breakfast tacos that only musicians and late-night revelers know: they’re a great hangover cure.

Have a great weekend, everyone. Enjoy some breakfast tacos with someone you love and share a laugh at the superciliousness of our political class.

When a taco isn’t just a taco… Signs of the absurdist times we live in.

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Ceci n’est pas un taco.

One of the most ridiculous things I’ve read this week: a political kerfuffle in California over the meaning of “street taco.”

“Steve Hilton,” the Republican front-runner candidate for California governor, “called a Crunchy Del Taco a ‘street taco’ in California. The backlash was instant,” reported the Times.

Hilton “posted a video of his Del Taco order. Social media users accused him of misunderstanding the state’s Mexican food culture.” (Evidently, “Crunch Del Taco” is a menu item at the southwest fast food chain restaurants.)

Hilton has a point when he notes that journalists should focus on the issues and not the taco.

But his detractors are also right to call him out for what he is: a carpetbagger, in the most literal sense of the term. (I mean, come on, he’s a Brit who identifies as a Republican. What could be less Californian than that? Tacos aside, of course.)

The reason why Hilton might become the leader of one the largest leftist states in the Union is because the democratic shoo-in fell by the wayside after revelations of his sexual predation.

These days, it feels like the whole world has been turned on its head.

In Maine, Democrats are making moral excuses for a Senate candidate whose previous Nazi-sympathies are on full display.

In Texas, a San Antonio Democratic candidate for Congress openly spews ugly antisemitic rhetoric.

And just this morning, I read about a candidate for Texas oil regulator who has brushed off claims of antisemitism despite countless racist outbursts.

He had posted a poll on social media asking his followers to weigh in: Jews or Muslims, the biggest threat? he asked them.

When challenged over the post, he “said that last year’s social media poll question, which he deleted, was meant to show Islam ‘is the bigger threat‘” (Times). Talmudic or Sharia law, it’s probably all the same to him.

Oh, how I pine for the days when a taco was just a taco!

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.