Ever had the shit kicked out of you?
A smash to the head by a bare knuckle.
A kick to the ribs.
The cracking of your own bones.
Flesh on flesh.
It can make a man a man or turn them into a child.
It reveals the true self.
It can unlock the rage within.
True therapy.
My good friend Cesar Mendoza.
A true friend.
Smuggled across the border as a child he works the kitchens of a Mexican restraunt.
He works hard.
Tooth and nail.
Sometimes his hands bleed from washing the dishes.
The sharp edges of glasses or a broken dish bite at his flesh.
All for a dollar.
All for rent.
All for his children his family.
We both love bar fights.
A pastime, if one can call it that.
Oh the sweet sound of smashing glass against a skull.
Mariachi music playing sweetly in the background.
The hot Santa Ana wind whipping up our fears and our disappointments.
Filling our dreams of woman with warm whiskey washing down our salty throats.
Ahhhh…I miss those days.
I miss my good friend Cesar.
A good man.
Shot while trying to come across the border for the 10th time.
He was bringing some family across.
Trying to help them start a new life.
Rest well my friend.
Rest well.
