Pacific Grove Historic Homes

Pacific Grove Historic Homes

Longtime readers of this blog will have surely noticed the Flickr feed that has always appeared in its sidebar, labeled “Chris’s Camera.” For years it featured glorious photographs of California’s rugged central coast. There my brother had documented many of this portion of the West Coast’s most distinctive features and landmarks. Always captured near sunset, amidst the perfect lighting of the golden hour and with just the right amount of clouds to fill the frame. More recently though, Chris has switched his focus to the many, century old buildings in nearby Pacific Grove. Pictured here is the initial galley of a book that he has created. It is almost done and is well into the final tweaking phase of this project. So much so, that he is now casting about for a new photography project to fill his time. He just needs to capture a few more homes to finish his book. Like me, my brother Chris was never a great writer. So how did he write a book? I have for years been laboring to pullup my weak writing skills by their bootstraps, to this present day relatively lofty level, from where I had begun. Chris has chosen a more modern and much more expedient approach. In cooperation with many Pacific Grove based cultural and historical organizations who have contributed, who he prominently credits, he has accumulated plenty of text to accompany his photos in this coffee table book. How best to organize these disparate sources though? Enter the AI bot ChatGPT. It has been making an enormous splash in the news lately. Both heralding it as the next new, new thing and decrying it as a source blatant lies and disinformation. Chris has found that by limiting this robot to only quoting the text that he gives it, it does well at what it was always intended to do, before all the hoopla occurred. ChatGPT is just the next generation of autocomplete and if that is what you use it for, it does a good job. In this case organizing disparate text into a coherent paragraph.

Llama Llama Gram and Grandpa

Llama Llama Gram and Grandpa

On Christmas morning, the picture gift was Maren and David’s way of letting us know that they are expecting a baby. Best Christmas gift ever! This will be their first child and our first grandchild. I was asked to stay mum on this blog until all of the testing came back, which it did, last week. Yesterday, they made their own social media announcements. It was hard to contain myself all of this while. The baby is due in July and not wanting to know the baby’s sex beforehand, they have taken to calling their child the Little Hatchet. In addition to being our first grandchild, this baby will also be Maren’s parents first grandbaby too. This will be my father’s first great grandchild and Anne’s father’s fourth. Three of which are due this year. I think that I can safely say that we are all joyful with this news and expect great things to come.

Mojada: A Medea in Los Angeles

International Festival Mexican Dancers

Mojada is the Spanish word for the derogatory term wetback. A word used in English to denigrate undocumented immigrants from Mexico. Before this connotation was coined, the word originally meant wetting or soaking. Medea is a Greek tragedy by Euripides. In his play, Medea, wife of Jason of the Argonauts fame, helps him steal the golden fleece, the pair then steal away. She is later betrayed by him, leading her to exact revenge.

Mojada: A Medea in Los Angeles is a modern retelling of the Euripides play, set in the City of Angels. Medea is a shy seamstress and Jason is an enterprising go-getter. Jason embraces his new life in America, while Medea hates it, but cannot go home. Acán, their son, follows his father’s lead towards Americanization. Medea misses her home and cannot forget the traumas of their journey north.

Jason is seduced by his boss, Armida, an LA developer, who had not gotten the #MeToo message. She first steals Jason and then Acán. She then confronts Medea, and threatens her with eviction from her house. Pleading, Medea wins a one day reprieve. She uses that day to make Armida a dress that she had once requested. It is a magical dress. A dress once worn, transforms itself into a snake that kills Armida. Then still in a rage, Medea kills her only son with a machete.

This is a grisly end for Mojada, which is often comical and light, but that’s Greek tragedy for you. You get the same result as with a Shakespearian tragedy, but in fewer acts, where everybody dies in the fifth act. Greek tragedy is a source for several of playwright Luis Alfaro’s works. Alfaro has even reworked this play, when restaging it in other cities. At ninety minutes and one act, it is a short play. Some of the dialog was in Spanish, making some plot points difficult to understand, but also adding to the play’s authenticity.

It is in this concept of authenticity that Mojada seems to have differentiated itself from another popular telling of the modern Mexican immigrant story, as told in the novel American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins. Much of the criticism of Cummins and her book originates with the fact that she is not Mexican. She is an Anglo. Charges of cultural appropriation have been leveled against her. This smacks of racism or maybe reverse racism, but it is also on a slippery slope. Where do you cross the line when telling someone else’s story? This question is especially pertinent when your retelling comes from a publishing pinnacle. There is very little room at the top. One person’s story can supplant another’s.