Blog
I am a Sick Man!!
The fall of 1988, I’m about twelve years old. It’s a cold fall night in Palos Verdes. The house that I grew up in sits at the top of Portuguese Bend Canyon and overlooks the ocean and Catalina Island. It’s a beautiful place that has the feeling of isolation and privacy permeates in every woodchip on the ground. The night was like many others, cool and with a varying breeze.
I Said Tuck and Roll Ladies!!
There’s a part of me that truly believes he threw this in my face because he knew what I was and he wanted no part of it. I’m sure there were other motivations: this is the way you forge a man from a child, men are not sissies, men are better than women, blah blah blah. It’s pretty amazing that considering what I do for a living, my father was the only person I never told I was gay. So here’s a little story about karma and bigotry.
How Best to Explain el Patron
It’s probably time you were introduced to my Dad, Jose Alejandro Luna Peralta. Like many people in Mexico, he went by his middle name Alejandro. My Dad was born in Mexico City in 1945.
The Deadliest Slipper
So before we get started a few things that you should know. 1) This story does not make my Dad look good. He was a deeply flawed man and yet, he tried to love me as best he could. 2) This story highlights some dark truths that happened long ago. Never was an old slipper such a catalyst for chaos.