Pedro’s Mexican Connection

Big news on the Miracle Front. Supervisor Pete Schabarum went to sleep one night as a combative, bad-natured gringo and awoke the next morning as Pedro Schabarez, a smiling, easygoing, Born-Again Mexican.

Not since Bernadette saw a vision in the grotto has such a wondrous thing occurred.

Many weren’t aware of the miracle and Pedro didn’t say a lot about it. But when it was revealed that his colleagues were considering a redistricting plan that would place him in a predominantly Latino district, El Jefe, as he is now known, made his stunning announcement.

Don’t sneer. There’s historical precedent.

On June 26, 1963, John Kennedy stood near the Berlin Wall and said, “As a free man, I take pride in the words, Ich bin ein Berliner!” The West Germans roared.

On Dec. 5, 1989, Pete Schabarum stood near a taco stand in East L.A. and said, “As a desperate man, I take advantage of the words, Yo soy Latino!” The East Los Angelenos blinked.

It was as the redistricting plan was being discussed that Schabarum, a conservative ex-jock, was asked if being dumped, I mean placed, in a Latino district would jeopardize his political future.

Pedro replied, with hardly a trace of an accent, “Not if you do your job . . . being a Hispanic such as I am anyway.”

And once more God heaped the plates full of dumb politician at the table where columnists dine.

Schabarum is probably telling the truth. I say probably only because, unlike Alex Haley, I do not have 12 years to trace anyone’s genealogy.

Pete’s paternal grandmother was the former Rosalia Lopez, Pete’s father was born in Mexico and Pedro himself is therefore one-quarter Mexican. That makes him a kind of German mestizo, I guess.

Also in the man’s defense, he has revealed this in the past. “It’s old news,” said Judy Hammond, Schabarum’s embattled but eternally good-humored press representative.

“He has said the same thing before many times. It was only new to the reporter who wrote about it.”

At any rate, Hammond says, El Supervisor dismisses it all as a ridiculous non-issue. “He even joked later at a meeting of the Monrovia Kiwanis Club that he should probably start his speech by saying, ‘Buenos dias. ‘ “

Oh, that Pete.

So OK, it’s true and it’s not new. But the timing of the Miracle on Temple Street has left many in the Latino community believing that Schabarum is an insensitive opportunist who would declare himself a Choctaw medicine man if it got him the Indian vote.

They say he isn’t a Mexican in spirit, and humming “La Bamba” in Monrovia isn’t going to convince anyone he is.

I have a plan, however, to Seek Truth Out.

You might recall that a year ago, the L.A. Police Department was taken to task for a recruiting test that contained questions intended to weed out those of homosexual persuasion, to put it in the strained patois of a policeman.

The questions, meant for males, asked if the applicant were interested in men or ever entertained notions of becoming a florist. Not the most subtle of efforts, but we’re dealing with cops here, not playwrights.

The idea was, no real man would care about guys and certainly would never have wanted to be a florist, a hair stylist, a male model or any specialist in a field known to be favored by men who are, you know, light on their feet.

Because Pete Schabarum is the kind of guy who wouldn’t see anything wrong with questions like that, similar principles ought to be applied in a kind of litmus test for Latinos.

Pete, I mean Pedro, therefore should answer these questions as truthfully as possible:

1. Are you inexorably drawn to the faint aroma of chili?

2. If you had a sister, would you kill to protect her virginity?

3. Do you have an unexplainable tendency to run at the sight of an immigration officer?

4. Do you insist on refried beans served with your foie de veau when you dine at Chasen’s?

5. Do you shout Ole! at movies that depict Texans being wiped out at the Alamo?

6. Was your wedding car decorated with cotton balls and flowers made of Kleenex?

7. Is the Virgin of Guadalupe tattooed on your chest?

8. Do you hang around corners on weekends hoping for garden work?

9. Do you prefer eating chicken that has been killed in a cock fight?

10. Finally, do you believe Fernando Valenzuela’s picture, rather than Abe Lincoln’s, ought to be on a $5 bill?

If Our Pedro can answer affirmatively to at least half of those questions, I say break out the tequila and welcome to la raza.

Maybe we’ll even smash a pinata or two.