| I love Latin people of every stripe, i.e., European and American. I dig their food, their wine and their women. As a matter of fact, I married a European one. An Italian to be specific. She’s got dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin, more attitude than Sophia Loren and curves you could break your neck on. I’m shvitzing just thinking about her. The feisty and fun Latino vibe is one of the reasons why I, a pigmentally-challenged man, moved mi familia to Miami. Now that I’ve been in South Florida for a decade, heck, half of my best friends are Latinos (the other half are imaginary animals that scream curse words in a high pitched mandarin accent at me during the night). I said all of the above, not to bore you to death with my dorky preferences, life and dementia, but rather to slay any notion that I’m some David Duke xenophobe when it comes to Latinos and their plight before I start to hammer them. Listen, I do not hate Mexicans nor do I hate anyone based upon the color (or lack thereof) of their skin. That’s stupid. I follow Dennis Miller’s mantra and try to get to know all people better so that I can hate them for deeper and more meaningful reasons. Speaking of hate . . . it seems like anyone, any longer, that has any standards and won’t roll over and wet themselves when their sensibilities and convictions are violated is now deemed a hater. That is, unless of course, the person with the standards is a liberal—and then the person’s not a hater but a defender of truth. Today, everyone who does not blow off and seem completely breezy with our borders being more open than Puffy’s pores before he began to use ProActiv is seen as a hater . . . a vile, racist that hates struggling, poor people. I, for one, think that’s pure, uncut nonsense. Everyone nowadays knows that we’d better not be hatin’—but is it really hatin’ when all we, the haters, ask the illegal aliens to do are the following: 1. To approach the USA respectfully; this means a) legally and b) in English. I personally am getting pretty tired of hearing, “for English, press one.” 2. To not expect us to mangle the Star Spangled Banner just to accommodate you. You, señor, are here, in the US, and now you must speaky English. FYI to the illegal alien: America is a melting pot, so . . . melt. Nuevo himno, my white hiney. It is the National Anthem. 3. To salute, I’m mean, to revere, our country’s flag. It’s great to have the Mexican flag hanging from your rear view mirror to remind you of your roots, but don’t expect that flag will be flown next to the red, white & blue as an equal on our soil, comprende? Why? Well, some Americans still love our nation and the flag for which it stands. You understand . . . it’s the reason you’re escaping here in the first place, remember? 4. To love our country and dream our American dreams. Not the communist/socialist dream, but the American dream. If you don’t, then sneak back across the border. If your former country was and is so bueno, and ours is so bogus, then why the heck are you here? Beat it. Rapido. 5. To not come close to tabling the Reconquista crap around us. 6. To understand that to myriads of Americans, you’re not an undocumented worker, but an illegal alien. Operative word being, illegal. Il-legal. That means NOT legal. And for those of you who think this is a derogatory term, give me a break. It’s not a cut down, or a personal attack, or a means to exclude you from your basic human rights; it’s a legal term used to define status of citizenship. Continued... |