I am the oldest of eight, with all the expectations that come with it.  Because I'm also a writer and an artist, I have disappointed my siblings, and my father thinks I'm very successful -- he has to think that, I"m the oldest.  My father was a demanding man, a World War II veteran, and a man who dreams of working on his tractor again. He doesn't remember the whippings he gave me, and I barely remember it myself.  This year, he's been named the Valentine's Day King at the nursing home where he lives here in San Antonio.  I cut his hair last night and gave him a manicure -- "you better make me look good, mija."  He's excited, and so am I.  He says I'm gonna live to be 100, and that he's gonna leave me his Social Security check.  I don't want the first, and I can't get the second.  Here we are on his birthday last month.  It was his second pinata, ever, and he made a speech thanking all the residents for coming to his party. 

Last Friday, my girlfriend Luti Gude treated me to dinner and we talked about politics, cats, and always, her children. Luti Vela Gude comes from a prominent, progressive, South Texas family, puros Tejanos (and don't forget it!) with ties all the way to the (current) White House. Even in that family known for their enlightened views and activism, Luti shines because she ran in the Boston Marathon in her forties. She's currently a graduate student at UTSA in Counseling, and from all accounts, teaching them more about the community than the faculty can ever teach her. Luti was also determined to raise her children to care about the world -- and it's working. Her oldest son, David, a spectacular student, attended Brackenridge High School and other public schools in the inner city, becoming a humanitarian, dedicated to giving something back to the world as a physician and researcher. David's life has not been without suffering, believe me. But last year he got married...