Over the Borderline

Empty Bases Gone is the crack of the bat The roar of the crowd The rounding of third Collisions at home The pause of the ump The dust in the air A fastball in the back Pine tar Stolen signs Pick-off plays Oh, how we long for… The good old days Gone is everything: From missed tags to rosin bags From outfield speed To sunflower seeds Everything from ticket fees To the suicide squeeze From screaming comebackers To ball flight trackers Missing is the bunt single Dropped in the perfect place The creaky-kneed catcher Taking one off the face Pitchers with blisters Home run hitters And 23 hoppers That find their way through An infield that shifted Or that little blooper Perfectly lifted Absent is the groundcrew Always raking, spraying And cleaning up chew Absent are the workers And all the fans that we knew Lemonade like Gramma made Hot dog man in mid-bark Cotton candy and churros Everything h...

Remembering Joseph Hill on his birthday today - January 22, 2019 - by posting this eulogy I wrote over 12 years ago after learning of his passing.  Joseph Hill & Culture As we ponder the great loss of Joseph Hill we reflect on his many works. Going back to the foundation of reggae music, Joseph brought forward a sound vibe that still echoes in my brain. As a top-notch vocalist, song writer, and human I'll never forget Josephs influence on me as a reggae listening youth. "Psalm of Bob Marley" brought a tear to my eye, now we need a "Psalm of Joseph Hill." With his straight forward lyrical statements he left no doubt about his meaning, now we need more straight shooters like him. His admonitions in "Youth Man Move" moved you to dance, moved you to take control of your destiny. In "Work On Natty" he stresses the importance of hard work, of being diligent in the face of poverty. I ask Joseph "Tell Me Where You Get It?" Now I ask...

Muralism: Portraits of Phoenix Work by Angel Diaz -- 1st Street south of Jackson -- Phoenix, Az Murals are more than an art form, they are part of the lifeblood and fabric of the communities in which they are painted. Whether their locale is a barrio or a newly gentrified neighborhood, murals paint a picture of struggle, culture, history, politics, and activism. They are an outlet for the oppressed, a conduit that connects people from various walks of life, they are a link between the past and present, they are at once a symbol of protest and a beacon of hope for what a unified community could look like. Murals in Mexico predate the arrival of the Spanish conquistadors in the early 16 th century. Much like paintings on cave walls, murals were a communication tool for the illiterate masses. They depicted images of the gods, warriors, animals, changes in seasons, life and death. One of the immediate difficulties the Spanish faced upon their landing in Mexico was the lan...

I created this salsa in honor of the NCAA Final Four basketball tournament here in Phoenix....for those who like it hot! It has four roasted peppers: red bell, Anaheim, jalapeno, and serrano (5 if you include toasted chiltepin). Final Four Pepper Salsa 6 roasted jalapenos 6 roasted serranos 3 roasted Anaheim peppers 1 roasted red bell pepper 5 roasted tomatoes 1 ½ tsp toasted chiltepin 3 cloves roasted garlic ½ tsp cumin 2 ½ tsp salt ¼ c roasted red pepper juice 2 tblsp  apple cider vingar 2 tsp oregano Put all the above in a blender jar and blend or pulse to desired thickness, thin with more vinegar if needed. Enjoy! Jesse A. Phoenix, Arizona 4/1/2017

Rafael and Castro Were born on the same day On the beautiful isle of Cuba Just several miles away Both born in the countryside The exact time isn't clear Both full of Cuban pride... 1926 was the year Rafael was born dark Of the Afro-Cuban race Castro had light skin... And a smooth Spanish face Rafael Canivaro used to play drums He hung out in bars Drove American cars...and Chomped on cigars with his barrio chums They spoke of politics And the working mans pain Laughed at the USA's dirty tricks And played futbol in the rain That was before Castro Antes de la revolucion When Cuba was free Though life wasn't perfect Prosperity was on the rise And a certain lady... Had that look in her eyes He now lives north of Havana In a west coast Florida town While its not his little isle There are Cubans all around And they sit on a bench Under a Banyan tree Consumed by a game of chess Dreaming of 1943... At the age of 20...he was rolling ciga...

Sonoran Barbacoa Sizzling peppers send smoke signals Carne asada sears over mesquite A hungry traveler lurks in the brush And dreams of something to eat On the road so long Himself grilled by the sun Nearly out of water And not out to harm anyone As a tendril of smoke fills his nose And a bastard buzzard circles overhead Smells from his youth tickle his soul And coax him back from the dead From menudo to adobo With rice and beans Con mas frutas y dulces He smells it all… it seems He thinks about Durango And cool mountain air And fresh roasted corn At the village town square He wishes he was there Or just up the arroyo Where blazing ranchero music Mixes with the smoke of grilled pollo And so off he goes With his hat in his hand Where he’ll join with those gringos… For his first meal in this land By: Jesse Alberson Tucson, Az

Shadow Rock United Church of Christ - Phoenix, Az       I recently visited a local Phoenix church as part of a fieldwork exercise for my Anthropology class in which we were tasked with observing church rituals, practices, and symbols. I chose a church nearby and found it more interesting than I bargained for. This particular church, Shadow Rock United Church of Christ, is a sanctuary for undocumented immigrants, providing a safe harbor for those in need. With lots of talk by Donald Trump about building a wall along the southern border, a major piece of his presidential bid, its worth noting the dilemma many undocumented immigrants face after being released from ICE custody. Occasionally they're cleared of any wrong doing and need a place to go, lest they be left to wander the streets. Some undocumented immigrants, many I imagine, are being accused of crimes they didn't commit and face extradition before their cases can be heard in a court of law. These immigrants ar...

Muhammad Ali once said “It isn’t the mountain ahead to climb that wears you out. Its the pebble in your shoe.” We are all inherently strong enough to overcome our obstacles, its the smallest thing that’ll stop you short of reaching your goals. After losing my mother to Alzheimer's disease and suffering a heart attack to begin 2016 it felt like I had more than a pebble in my shoe; there was a pebble, a thorn and a couple razor blades as well, and that mountain was more like staring up at a sheer cliff. There wasn’t much I could do but immediately set a goal (after never having been very goal oriented), and that goal was simply to never have another heart attack. The first step was dietary; I cut out dairy, alcohol, starchy foods, fat, anything that wasn’t whole grain, and lots of other things. Fruits and vegetables by the truck load have become my staple, along with brown rice and many varieties of beans. Eventually I was able to begin cardiac rehab, a closely monitored exe...

Hector lost his head Somewhere along the way  Lucinda stared in awe She didn't know what to say  El gallo del cielo Cradled in his arm A gift for her family  He never lost his charm Jesse A 7/5/16

Chile rellenos are one of the more underrated, underappreciated Mexican dishes around. Long a staple of Mexican cuisine, the rellenos found in most average Mexican restaurants range from bland to gooey, with mushy breading on the outside, hastily thrown together because they aren't ordered often. This is no indictment on deep fried, cheese filled rellenos, which will always have a place in my heart, literally. Rather, this is about discovering the traditional relleno -- a dish straight from the Mexican garden -- in all its healthy glory. Think of nopales (cactus paddles), chiles of all sorts, volcanic soil, burning mesquite wood, fresh tomatoes and cilantro, lime wedges, and a simple pot of beans, all in a shady garden setting with the sounds of Mexico (children playing, traffic and chatter, guitars and drums) as the background soundtrack. While all this doesn't capture the simple relleno it does embody the memories I have of special places I've been in Mexico . ...

Former U of A Wildcat Sean Rooks died of a heart attack , as have several former NBA big men over the last couple years. There's growing interest as to why former NBA players are suffering cardiac events, but I see it as an issue with many layers. Former Oakland Athletic Tony Phillips died suddenly of a heart attack a few months ago. The drummer from Megadeath recently died of a heart attack while performing. My opinion is that the American diet, reckless use of drugs and alcohol, stress, and heredity, among other things, are to blame. Although, in the case of 7-foot men running like gazelles in the open court game after game, one has to wonder if the human body of that size just isn't cut out for that much stress. Makes me reminisce about all the basketball my friends and I used to play, pounding our knees, feet and ankles, and probably our hearts as well. Inevitably, seeing these supreme athletes die, people who had the best medical care in the world available to them, re...

It's true, I'm a bean-aholic! I'll admit it, and I'll never enter a 12 step program to cure myself. I love all kinds of beans; pinto beans, black beans, navy bean, any and all heirloom beans. Lately, I've been making black beans in the crockpot more often, so simple and the results are perfect every time. Not only are they cheap and healthy - full of amino acids, fiber, and protein - but so versatile as well. I like them served with chopped onions, a squeeze of lime, a little pinch of oregano, a stack of corn tortillas, maybe some cotija cheese...it's a meal unto itself. I also like to throw them in pico de gallo, salads, and mixed in with brown rice. If you're adventurous (I am), you can put them in a blender and make an incredible dish called enfrijolades, for which there are many great vegan or vegetarian recipes available on that thing called the "internets." So, instead of opening up a can, fire up the crockpot...the aroma in your ...

The other day I found an old T-shirt in the bottom of a box in the closet,  a 3XL anti-British Petroleum shirt that fits like a tent now (6 years and 80lbs ago).  It brought back a lot of memories of living in the Florida Panhandle during the tragic oil spill of 2010. Six years have passed since the Deepwater Horizon oil spill that dumped 210 million gallons of crude into the Gulf of Mexico. So much has changed since then. I was living in Panama City, Fl at the time of the spill, it was my first summer there as a resident. While we all had fears of our beautiful beaches being inundated with oil, we all saw and felt the economic downturn that occurred even without oil on the beaches.  The T-shirt I'm wearing in this picture was purchased to benefit coastal communities and raise awareness for the BP oil spill of 2010.  It was a summer of discontent. Millions of gallons of oil lurked offshore, somewhere off in the distance, prone to the Gulfstream and th...

Intermountain High In a Hemingwayesque trope I write of the Intermountain West From the basin and range To the Trans Mexican Volcanic belt Of the Great Basin And the Colorado Plateau The Continental Divide Or Sonoran desert snow Intermontane sky islands bereft Of city dwelling criminals and theft Upper range thrust In geologic striations I trust From the steppes to the Shrub land biome Seeking open range And a place to call home Subduction zones and shifting plates Life along the Ring of Fire Pacific Ocean burning Pushing Andes higher Coast of Chile churning Massive land forms I desire Escarpments come to mind Although Death Valley is fine Slot canyons beckon We are so small in their presence And that's the thing, I reckon I feel shallow between every fault Feel uplifted by every rift The Grand Staircase to the Painted Desert From Volcan del Fuego to the mighty Sierra  Pico de Orizabe to my own backyard Lo...

Christmas Across the Border A Christmas trip to Arizona Laughing and joking our way Across the desert on a bus A happy and joyous affair Would soon turn into a nightmare Tucson lights at night Sinaloa so long ago It seems... But only the day before Our broken navidad dreams A lone toddler’s shoe Sits on the roadside A single sad sole That tells the tale Of a hurried escape Just ahead of the law With sirens screaming And searchlight beams That blind and shatter Our holiday dreams Broken down bus Southbound lanes La migra licking their chops The officer frowns The cruiser slows down And quickly comes to a stop Checking our papers He lets out a sigh His face is blurred Through my only good eye A scar runs down my cheek From hairline to chin The officer thinks I'm a freak I can tell from his ugly grin My wife carries our son Almost the age of three Born with only one arm A...