Anaheim: Where the Minority is the Majority!

In a story that is news to no one who lives in the great city of Anaheim, the Los Angeles Times published an article on its status as a majority Latino city. Citing census data from two years ago, the reporter goes on, unfortunately, to paint a picture of the Latino beat of its residents that is essentially flat. Regardless, the article, at the very least, should have redeeming value in that Chicanos from Los Angeles can finally drink a tall glass of shut the eff up everytime I tell them where I live only to have them reply with tired cliches of “The OC!”

In terms of the demographic flip that the report seeks to chart, my parents bought their house in Anaheim in 1975 and witnessed the transformation of the city all within a single generation of their children.  However, it’s not their perspective that comes to mind when considering this subject. In 2005, I was chillin’ in a Mexican neighborhood of Anaheim after jammin’ with my homies band, “Just Us” when for the eff of it, we decided to do some dub hip hop.  Hector Selecta, the group’s drummer, proceeded to spit rhymes on the rough demo that nevertheless encapsulated the mexicanidad of Anaheim better than anything I will ever come across!

I could pensively give my thoughts and criticisms to the LAT article, but instead, I’m just going to give the transcription to the entire bilingual verse from my homie’s rhymes that to this day can be culled from memory:

“Out the door to the liquor store I go/ With a $1.50 in my pocket/ and a thirst to quench/ This is Anaheim / Where the OC ain’t on my TV/ It’s on the streets/ And you can always tell when it’s pay day/ Rancheros in the alley with a cooler full of beer/ Carne Asada on the grill/ Where you can hear those corridos and gritos/ Backyard parties that can go on all night/ If the cops don’t show up/ Then it was good times/ Anaheim is my domain/ Where the minority is the majority/ Raza/ Por eso que aqui es mi casa/ Just Us toca dancehall/ Si no me crees/ You must be smokin’ stress/ So you best not mess with Big Hec from the West/ Three hundred pounds/ Three pitbulls/ And truth to be told!”


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