Then we run across something so fine, so wondrous, so truly superlative, that it becomes impossible for us to just let go. Something like this sentence, which greeted us this morning as we tried to spoon the prune-laced oatmeal down our aging gullet, from a front-page story in the Houston Chronicle that sought to somehow link Cinco de Mayo (apparently a Mexican holiday commemorating the creation of tacos al carbon) with the ongoing debate over the tightening of immigration law. The story notes that Cinco de Mayo is one of the busiest days for Mexican restaurants in Texas, then adds:
But those on opposing sides of the immigration debate are unlikely to be sharing chips and salsa today, some say.It’s not just the walkin’-with-a-crutch metaphor, it’s that some say that caused us to dribble oatmeal down our chin. We can easily imagine what should have followed, if the Chronicle were pretending to be even-handed and objective and all:
However, the conviviality generated by repeated replenishings of a basket of chips and several bowls of salsa (rojo y verde), supplemented by pitcher after pitcher of syrupy margaritas, could possibly bridge the seemingly unbridgeable chasm separating those on opposing sides of the immigration debate, others say.We still can’t believe our local newspaper would slander America’s favorite appetizer on a Mexican holiday.