Gringo :
H I S T O R I A S
-- A partly true tale told to the gringo
-- transcribed by Michael Thomas.
An old family member remembers Ensenada
Ah yes, Ensenada; I remember we went down there in the early 50s, my first wife and I; she was already in her wheelchair then, you know why, Mikey, the illness she had, yes. So we wheeled into this bar, or nightclub, I guess you could call it. It looked more like a dinner theater, or what would later be called a dinner theater in the 60s and 70s. Anyway, a nightclub with seats and tables all crowded around the floor and a stage down center, more or less, except it was all very dark and I couldn't see what they were doing on the stage, some kind of music yes, and maybe dancing or strippers, I don't know and I don't want to remember I had my wife there, after all, and it was all dark and we had all been drinking in other bars, the three of us, and dinner before that, yes.
Who was with us? Well we were riding around town with this man who used to be chief shrink and psyche washer for Chester Nimitz's command in the Pacific -- did your great aunt Marj ever tell you how she danced with him one night at the Hotel Del Coronado, yes -- well, this guy in Ensenada had been with Nimitz for the duration, and headshrunk his command staff all through the War, and you know that couldn't have been an easy hat to wear, and he was evidently still suffering the after-effects of that experience, both what he saw and what the others told him they saw. He was now addicted to... what's it called... I forget now I'm getting old damnit... oh yes, that's it, damiana, thank you, heh, I've told you this story before eh? Well, that was his passion and he drank glass after glass of it, the liqueur, you know, it was illegal then but he had his sources. It never did much for me, you understand. We ended up driving around Ensenada in a taxicab looking for someplace to serve us food at three o'clock in the morning and he kept yelling out the taxi window YO TENGO RANCHO GRANDE EN OAXACA... TENGO RANCHO GRANDE EN OAXACA... we never went back there after that so I don't know what ever became of him, no. Poor bastard, hope he got off the stuff, yes.