I'd pretty much forgotten Cinco this year. That's an impossibility back in Denver (the Mexican-American population, here in Oklahoma, seems to prefer a lower profile).
Back in Denver Cinco is huge. There's even a street festival featuring all sorts of awesome Mexican stuff in the parks next to the Capitol building. The food is super-authentic and awesome. The tacos are made on tiny soft corn tortillas, three to a plate, with questionable cuts of meat. One year I bought a cheap straw vaquero hat for $20 and still enjoy wearing it (especially when I'm pantomiming riding a dog half-naked).
It's so big they even close down a major thoroughfare, Federal Boulevard, just for cruising. The Mexicans, both legal and il, drape Mexican flags across the hoods of their low riders and inch down the street shouting and blaring Latin jams. There's invariably a shooting but it seems most folks have a good time.
I want to co-opt the idea. Some Fourth of July I'm going to rent a Chrysler LeBaron convertible, preferably doo-doo brown. I'll affix The Stars and Stripes to the hood and my friends and I will dress in Polo shirts with sweaters tied around our necks. We'll cruise around every mall in town doing the "U.S.A." chant while blaring Bing Crosby.
Or maybe some hot sitar jams, just to further confuse the issue.
Labels: alcohol, culture, holidays
