Editor's Notes for 2012 - Once Upon a Christmas Time from West Coast Midnight Run

Once Upon A Christmas Time

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away …. well not so far away, when I was a wide-eyed boy of seven, we lived in a small town on the outskirts of Mexico City, and we lived in a very poor neighborhood, in squalor, with very little to brag about. However my pappy, as some used to call him, was on a solid footing in his trade, and by some measures, was prospering - even though he never had any real schooling or training in any profession that can be spoken of. He was a self taught man with considerable integrity and the proverbial American work ethic. And he was always keen on self improvement and striving to please his employer and the customer as well as advance his own trade knowledge.

We lived in a poor neighborhood, next to a federal re-development project where a new highway was supposed to be built and the government was diligently pressuring the residents into selling their properties for the right of way. In other words, the little neighborhood we were living in was in jeopardy of being erased, but at the time that was of little importance and never really factored in for me.

The boys in the neighborhood were in small gangs always looking for mischief and trouble as a way of having fun, and we used to have scant means for expending on movies or toys. The arcades were for teenagers and grownups and were considered to be off-limits for young boys. There were no video games whatsoever, no TV, we had a black and white TV that was burnt out which my pappy always promised he would repair some day (but never did), and the only really fun and games were physical games - Hide and Seek, Tag, Cowboys and Indians, climbing a tree and picking figs.

Yes there were olive groves and fig trees in that neighborhood along with many condemned and shuttered houses which made an ideal playground for hide and seek that lasted all afternoon in the summer. And whenever we used to climb the fig trees and start snacking, invariably an old lady (we called them names)