Perfect Score
One hundred schoolchildren especially in East L.A. barrios would answer his inquiry correctly and unhesitatingly.
Was Pancho Villa Irish?
Except for the giant black sombrero, dozens of cultural accoutrements never farther than arms length and helpful voice inflections that do not sound Hungarian, now lets see why would anyone think Antonio (I Am the Maximum Mexican Mayor and Proud of It) Villaraigosa is not of Mexican descent.
To the Max, Baby
Before he took office, more people across Los Angeles and the country knew about the chesty Mr. Villaraigosas Mexican heritage than ever realized the late Mayor Tom Bradley was black.
He tells everyone who will and will not listen, Good morning, Los Angeles, I am a Maximum Mexican, how are you? Sometimes he juxtaposes the first two phrases.
I Am You, You Are Me
Thunderingly and vociferously, the Mayor has marched in demonstrations for equal rights for illegal immigrants, and he has ardently advocated for illegals as a proudly declared Mexican.
He may speak Spanish more often than he invokes English.
The Mayor and his handlers promote him as the Most Prominent Latino Politician Outside of Washington.
The Mayor has not benefited from an unrelieved national publicity campaign for 25 consecutive months because he is just another middle-aged, academically failed philanderer who has fathered a child for every street corner in his community.
If the Mayors name were, oh, Richardson, he would not be known inside or outside of any barrio.
And this Mexicans expensive backers would be riding a different horse.
Part-Time Mexican
I guess the Mayor is Mexican when he can get away with lies.
When he is cornered, he is warned:
Dont tell them you are one of us.
Say you are Romanian.
He who curries the illegal Mexican immigrant vote is being portrayed as what he is, and his defenders complain.
Harvard? Not Quite
Perhaps it is no surprise that Mr. Rodriguez teaches at U.C. Irvine, which never has been labeled the Harvard of the West, or even the Santa Monica College of Orange County.
Like many cultural partisans, Mr. Rodriguez quickly becomes overwrought, breaking loose from his normal moorings. He reasons like a silly schoolgirl who had her foot stepped on.
Two years ago, when the Mayor was inaugurated, Mr. Rodriguez wrote a piece for Newsweek magazine, trumpeting that Mr. Villaraigosas election shows that Latinos, long denied, have arrived in the political marketplace.
Speaking of Roots, Pal
Mr. Rodriguez, I have a pertinent question for you:
Would you have been asked to write the piece for Newsweek if your name had been OBrien? I see. That is different.
Now that the Mayor has behaved, for about the 200th known time, like a person of gutterish character, Mr. Rodriguez whines that the I Am the Maximum Mexican Mayor is being portrayed as a Mexican mayor not just a misbehaving mayor.
Surely You Jest
Like a schoolgirl, Mr. Rodriguez resorts to cattiness.
Would all this winking ethnic innuendo be tolerated if it were applied to, say, Anglo, black or Jewish politicians? he asks.
Growing increasingly hysterical, Mr. Rodriguez violates the first law of hole-digging when the dirt starts pouring in on the digger.
Anglo? He could not be serious about that. Black? Plenty of black officials have leaped into the moral gutter. Not one I know of has denied his blackness.
Jewish? Mr. Rodriguez wonders why Michael Bloomberg of New York City is not known as the Jewish Mayor.
When Shall We Meet?
Because, Mr. Rodriguez, unlike the Maximum Mexican Mayor, Mr. Bloomberg has buried the identity of his ethnicity deeper than you have buried your pinch-faced childishness.
Shall we meet again on Rosh Hashanah?
Or St. Patricks Day?
Or Cinco de Mayo?
