It’s the holidays in the tamale orchard
I came from a poor but semi-honest family whose every Christmas
was ruined because we had to pick tamales. The tamale orchard was
outside Hollister in the Sunny Mountain district. It is now called
Sunnyslope as the developers beat down what even Mohammad couldn’t.
The sweet tamales were easy because they grew on the lower branches
but the regular tamales with chile sauce dripping in your face from
the upper limbs made you wish that Mexicans would prefer turkey at
Christmas.
It’s the holidays in the tamale orchard
I came from a poor but semi-honest family whose every Christmas was ruined because we had to pick tamales. The tamale orchard was outside Hollister in the Sunny Mountain district. It is now called Sunnyslope as the developers beat down what even Mohammad couldn’t. The sweet tamales were easy because they grew on the lower branches but the regular tamales with chile sauce dripping in your face from the upper limbs made you wish that Mexicans would prefer turkey at Christmas.
But watch out what you wish for as in 1955 they came up with the turkey tamale. Now the tamales weigh up to 22 pounds plus now we had to pluck the damned things. Have you ever plucked a tamale? Aye chee waa waa!
Love Christmas here in Hollywood as I especially love the change of seasons. At Thanksgiving it was in the 80s but luckily we’re in the winter wonderland mood as the thermometer has dropped two degrees below 80.
Another reason I now love Christmas is that 48 years ago at the chapel in the Methodist Church in Hollister I married Nancy Sue Coyle. (The Methodist Church has denied that I ever was near their chapel.) We were just 18 years old and everyone thought we “had” to get married. And they were right as a short 12 years later almost to the week the greatest son anyone could ever have arrived. David’s stay in the womb for 12 years made him one of the happiest human beings I know. David makes me laugh a lot and not just because his third eye keeps changing colors.
Someone else who makes me laugh even though he has been in Hollywood Heaven for almost 40 years is Leo Gorcey. Gorcey in over 100 movies usually played the leader of some gang of goofballs, most notably the Bowery Boys. With his fractured English he made me laugh more than Abbott and Costello, Abbott without Costello, the Marx Brothers or the Smith Brothers. One of Gorcey’s characters was Mugsy and I have Mugsy’s mug on a coffee mug that puts a smile on my face first thing every morning.
I have written about meeting Leo before in this column but a recent hit piece by an employee of the Red Bluff News in Northern California prompts me to repeat the encounter. The employee of the Red Bluff paper and would-be guardian of the world’s morals was greeted by Leo in a similar fashion as I was but he chose to tell Leo to virtually go screw himself. When I walked into this bar near Los Molinos, a short drive from where I lived in Chico, I did not expect to meet my boyhood idol. He was exactly as I expected Leo Gorcey to be: loud, uncouth, a pain in the ass and smelled a little. Just like my family and close friends. And just like my family and friends he was also funny as hell, generous and a consummate weaver of tales. I sat at the stool, the bar stool of the master.
Too bad the employee at the Red Bluff newspaper had such an arrogant attitude as he missed out on knowing the Leo millions of his fans know and love.
I don’t doubt where Leo Gorcey is spending this Christmas: making them laugh like hell in heaven. Merry Christmas Leo. We miss you even more today as this old world sure could use “youse” gift of laughter.
The employee of the Red Bluff paper also takes a pot shot at Gorcey’s son’s heartfelt book on his dad and trashes his writing ability. When Leo Jr. wrote the book about his dad he did not set out to outdo Hemingway but unlike the five-part series hit piece, at least Leo Gorcey Jr. did not commit the crime the Red Bluff employee committed. The one crime God will not forgive a writer – you’re boring.
There truly is a Santa Claus. They just released the best movie of the year on DVD. So get into your yellow Volkswagen bus and head on down to your favorite video outlet and buy “Little Miss Sunshine.” Don’t let the stupid “R” rating fool you. It is more uplifting than a hundred “G” rated Disney films or 69 visits to church.
And yes, every Christmas I am asked to play Santa and I have in the past. But this year I have retired my Santa hat but will still have people on my lap. The Gentlemen’s Club on Sunset just two blocks away will soon be open Christmas for lap dances. Ho, ho ho and I really mean ho, ho, ho!
Have a nice Christmas everyone. I know I will as the widow woman across the way has just invited me to enjoy her hot wassail. Ay chee waa waa!
