oh five, oh five, oh five.

oh five, oh five, oh five.

Today is Cinco de Mayo. Today, like on St. Patricks day, the American populus finds common ties -- usually in the form of plastic party accessories and restaurant specials -- with foreign pride in order to eat and drink in excess. In San Diego, I don't know if it's as drastic. Our daily local identity is interwoven with, beyond just cuisine and inebriation, that of Mexico. For some people, it's a novelty, but for many it is a given undercurrent to American life.

The only America I've ever lived in is San Diego. It took me a while before I realized that many of what I thought were American differences and idiosyncracies were actually unique to such a border town. I remember seeing signs of the road indicating pedestrian crossings. They'd have the little guy walking accross the street, and beneath that, the word "PED," and beneath that, the word "XING." Call me naive, but as a fresh-off-the-boat kid, I had always thought "XING" was the Spanish word for "pedestrian." I was so used to seeing Spanish translations beneath signs.

So, today, on this very special, not happening again until 3005, date of 05-05-05, let's all offer a Corona and a taco to any smiling xing crossing the street.