Columns

Concha Rosales had perhaps sixteen years the day she sent her bay gelding up into the portales of the Rooster’s Soul pulqueria to confront a bocon (loudmouth) who had insulted her. No one could remember any female ever doing something like that. And certainly it was hard to recall seeing such a mature, short-tempered male challenged like that by a sixteen year old. Just about everyone who knew the Rosales family well thought Concha was fiften or sixteen; they didn’t really know for sure.

Like many people, initially I was elated that the Mexican Marines caught Zeta jefe Miguel Angel Treviño Morales on Monday, July 15.  Yet when I expressed a modest bit of that cheer to Mexican friends, I often got somber glances. 

Mexico held elections in 15 states Sunday, and the results did not cheer a large portion of the Mexican electorate.  One might think this wouldn’t matter. That’s because 60 percent of Mexican voters abstained. But the results will matter both sooner or later.  And the reasons are of pressing importance. 

When pueblo Mexicans first saw Concha Rosales, they were surprised.  It was because she was too young to be riding such a spooky horse jerking its head at the tight streets and noisy people. 

English colonists in America were ruled — and protected — by an accumulation of laws set down in (and between) the Magna Carta, 1215, and the British Bill of Rights, 1689.

Begun by Sergio Chamorro, a 35-year-old office worker, and a company of friends also disillusioned with the transparently false promises of human candidates, the ten-year-old, adopted “Morris the Cat” is running for mayor of Xapala, the capital of Veracruz state.