Drove out to J.W. Brooks Custom Hat Company near New River this morning and got my 20X Beaver Brand hat blocked in for the trip tomorrow ($20 cash tip). It's a pure white hat and I'm a bit concerned about traveling with it on my head (can't pack it, too cumbersome), but here we go.
Meantime, did a scratchboard a couple days back of "El Jefe":
When I was in jail for a day-and-a-half in Nogales, Sonora in December of 1968, I met a guy who ran the prison, or, at least the back part of the prison where we were thrown in to. In exchange for keeping order, he got his own apartment with a turquoise refrigerator at the top of the stairs leading to his penthouse. We couldn't go up there. He had other prisoners with sticks guarding the stairs. We were put in the hole. Six inches of urine on the floor.
But I digress.
Before I got out, I had a nice talk with him. He spoke perfect English. He claimed to have been the chief of police of Mexico City, but got caught taking the wrong bribe, or was it too much mordida? At least that was his version. He asked me if I thought the Mexican prisons were rough and I laughed. But then he proceeded to tell me how humane their prisons were compared to ours (they can order out for any food they want and their wives and girlfriends get to visit once a week). I had to admit, he had a point. You certainly couldn't cook up a worse recipe for anal sex than we have.
These guys always get portrayed as the heavy in movies and books, but El Jefe was a very smart individual, and I'd like to tell his story some day. I often wonder where he is today?
"My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it."
—Mark Twain
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