Why the Promise of Puffy Political Tacos Went Tortilla Flat

November 3, 2020 was supposed to be “the day.” This was supposed to be the year that the shifting demographics in Texas would assert itself and achieve the long-awaited miracle feat of political alchemy and change Ruby Red Texas into a Cool Azul Tejas. It was supposed to be a tectonic plate shift that would change the national, electoral landscape for countless election cycles. It was supposed to be a tipping point. But it did not happen here in Texas. It fell flat on its face, again. Why?

Death Valley Daze

My ancestral roots, mis raices run deep in the Rio Grande Valley, from Harlingen, through Corpus Christi and Brownsville and over to South Padre Island. El valle is where both sides of my family are from. They grew up good FDR, pro-union, New Deal Democrats, and they, like many other Mexican Americans from South Texas, migrated to California after World War II to escape racism and seek new opportunities in the Bay Area. After being born and raised in San Jose, California, I came full circle and returned to Texas, first Austin, then McAllen, and now San Antonio, and have always felt like I have returned “home.”

But considering what is happening on the border with the inhumane policies of Donald Trump and his neo-Nazi political advisor, Stephen Miller, because of their brutal policies of child separation, “detaining” immigrant toddlers in dog cages and denying asylum seekers their constitutional rights, it was stunning to see the residents of my beloved Occupied Territories, go for Trump by a slim, but significant margin. When you factor in Trump’s hatred toward all Latinos, I am still scratching my head wondering how he got one single Latino vote in the Valley.

The Specter of Socialism

Trump tries to scare America into believing if Joe Biden, a lifelong centrist Democrat, were elected president, he would don military fatigues, grow a beard, become Fidel Castro and walk around DC with a dog-eared copy of Das Kapital tucked under his arm. It is totally absurd. Neither Trump, nor his followers would be able to recognize a socialist from a socialite, or a Trotskyite from a fox trot.

Ask any Latino military veteran in Laredo if they want their VA Benefits revoked and you will get a dirty look that will make you regret you ever asked the question. The VA Program is one of the biggest and most successful so-called “socialist”, aka government-run programs in US history.

Ask a Latino senior citizen living in Del Rio to burn their social security, Medicare or Medicaid cards and you will get the same dirty look. Social Security and Medicare are the two most popular government-run, aka “socialist” programs among the American public.

Trump and the Republicans want to dismantle or get rid of those programs and replace them with…nada, zilch, zero, zip. So why did so many Latinos, and millions of others, vote against their own interests? Is it simply because they are frightened by the specter of socialism? That scary ass specter has been an integral, popular and enduring fabric of our social safety net in this country for generations.

Much Ado About Macho

Consider a recent New York Times article titled, The Macho Appeal of Donald Trump. The article outlines why so many Latino men as well as African American males, are attracted to the “tough guy” image projected by Trump. Hard to figure. That so-called “tough guy” image is actually more like that shimmering mirage you see in the distance when you are driving on the highway.

This rich, spoiled, privileged preppie man-child is a serial philanderer, sexual predator, accused rapist, con man, pathological liar, tax cheat and Putin’s puppet. Where is the machismo in that? Trump is barely a role model for cold-blooded reptiles, much less human beings and certainly not for Latino men. For positive, strong, enlightened male role models, think Atticus Finch not Attila the Hun.

Tripping Over the Light Fantastic Tipping Point

This was supposed to be the year the Democrats would flip the Texas legislature, but they fell way short of that goal. Additionally, the gender gap was also painfully evident as several high-profile female Democratic candidates went down to defeat, including Wendy Davis, Gina Ortiz Jones and MJ Hagar.

Had the Democrats been able to win the Texas Legislature, we would be able to redraw the gerrymandered districts Tom DeLay drew up to look like a Jackson Pollock painting that favors Republicans and marginalizes and renders politically impotent Latino and other minority communities here in the Lone Star State.

A Democratic Texas Legislature would have redrawn all the Congressional Districts to reflect a more accurate representation of a Latino dominant republico de Tejas. That change would not only have had huge repercussions here in Texas, but across the country.

The tipping point was right there at our fingertips on November 3. Had Texas gone Blue, as has been predicted so often during the 22 years I have lived here, Florida, Arizona, Nevada, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Michigan and Georgia would have been moot footnotes to this year’s presidential election. Had Texas gone Blue on Day One of the Election, it would have been lights out, game over, adios amigo for Trump and the Republican Party.

Message in a Tequila Bottle

But it is not all bad. As a San Antonio native, political activist, Eva Longoria said recently on MSNBC, “Latinos voted in Texas in greater numbers than ever before. The Latino vote played a significant role in Arizona, Wisconsin, Michigan, Nevada, and Georgia, where Latino communities are rapidly growing in numbers too big to ignore.”

Here in my adopted hometown of San Antonio, on election day we became one of a few Blue Dots in support of Biden, surrounded by a Sea of Red. But despite Biden’s win, this country is still horribly divided along racial and cultural lines.

Sometimes, I feel like Kevin McCarthy in The Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Every night for the past four years, I carefully check the balcony and bathroom closet for large, mysterious pods. At night, I listen intently for any telltale musical strains of Amazing Grace being played on bagpipes.

Even though I am marooned on this blue island in the middle of a red ocean, now that  old uncle Joe will be our next president, I can sleep easier and not worry so much about things that go Trump in the Night. The tantalizing aroma of those famous San Antonio puffy tacos, filled with the promise of political landscape change, is still in the air. We came close. Unfortunately, close does not count in politics.

I am sending out messages of hope, in empty tequila bottles I personally drank dry during my four years of despair, hoping they will land on some welcoming, distant shore, with this message inside: TEJAS AZUL LA PRÓXIMA VEZ.