Attribution: U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (Department of Homeland Security), Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
Featuring the Fabulous Dadbots: Mark M., Dave S., Mark O., Dennis C., and Geoff Carter
Trump sign o’ the times.
Just got back from changing a flat tire on my daughter’s car. She was stranded on 24th and Pierce (across from Mitchell Park). It was raining, but I was glad to help. I mean, heck yeah, flat tire — that’s a problem I can actually solve for my kids!
And, bonus, perhaps it provides a timely dad-bot anecdote:
So, 24th and Pierce, a working-class, mostly Hispanic neighborhood, kinda rough, is where Hannah gets the flat. She limps her car to the side of the road in front of the house in the photo below and calls me. I get there, it’s raining of course, and I break out the spare tire and the chintzy little scissors jack that comes with her 2012 Nissan Versa. I’m attacking the lug nuts as I hear a guy shouting from the house with the Trump sign. Great.
I look up to see a chubby, Mexican-looking dude standing on the upstairs porch. “Hey man. Hey you with the fucked up tire,” he shouts. “Hey man, I got me a f-cking speed jack so ya ain’t gotta f-ck around with that f-cking little thing,” he shouts. His accent is classic Milwaukee south side with just a hint of a Jalisco twang.
(Interesting cultural side-note: Guys from Jalisco tend to color their Spanish speech with a truly incredible and expressive stream of “chinga, chingado, chingaron, changalito…” so maybe the guy is translating that heritage to English.)
I admit I am intrigued by this profane but helpful Mexican-American Trump supporter. “Yeah, thanks man, that’s awesome,” I shout. Hannah barely has time to give me some amused side-eye before the guy is at the car with one of those sweet, pro-auto mechanic jacks. He’s cool enough not to steal my thunder and stands back in the rain as I loosen the lug-nuts, jack-up the car, put the spare on, etc. We thank the guy, and he drops a few dozen more f-bombs as he and I engage in a bit of manly car talk. Mission accomplished, our Mexican-Samaritan takes his cool f-ckin car jack back to his f-ckin garage.
So, yeah, yeah, of course I’m bringing this back to the current discussion about general Liberal cluelessness of working-class issues. I’d never seen a “Trump=Safety/Kamala=Crime” poster like this guy’s before. But the guy was not the racist, paranoid, self-righteous jerkwad that I admit I often painted Trumpsters as. He went out of his way to be helpful and kind to a couple of strangers.
As I looked up and down the street I noticed a few more Trump=Safety signs dotting that neighborhood. Duh, I think, of course crime is a huge issue for people who live in neighborhoods where crime really affects their daily lives. That Trump will actually solve that problem is highly doubtful, but he sure did convince a lot of these folks that he was the solution. After his failure to deliver on this and his other blow-hard promises, will we see working class people actually turn against him and the Republicans? Will the Republican overreach that Mark mentions really throw them on the rocks in 2026?
–DC
Photo by Dennis C.
Also, re cars: A fellow volunteer co-worker, also volunteers at a local polling center. She came out Tuesday pm, voting done—raining then too…only to find her Subaru rear window smashed. Called the cops—first question, before they got there: Any bumper stickers? Answer: Zero. When they arrived they still looked for bumper stickers. Had another friend, who drives a “Subey” tell me…oh yeah…not only do I get stink eye, some will pass me, pull in front and hit the brakes. He also has zero leftist ‘flags’. I’m like huh? Is Subaru so universally left that bruhs attack it, well…universally?
–d
Ah. me bots, bear with me for one more anecdote about the flat tire on my daughter’s car that I, at least, find surprisingly relevant to the election of Donald Trump.
Okay, long story a bit less long. Hannah needs the car for work, and Tim Walz would agree in classic dad fashion that relying on that tiny spare as the drive wheel is just plain unsafe, dammit. But the original rim that carried the flat tire is now all bent to shit, and no parts stores carry a rim in stock for a 2012 Nissan Versa.
But, aha, I remember that there are a couple of boneyards and used parts stores in the hood where one might score a solid used rim. So I boldly venture forth.No luck at Pops and Sons. But they’re friendly guys and refer me to (L…) Parts. The (L…) Parts people are also very engaging and they are super helpful; they search for a likely rim and also find a tire to fit it–and they’ll even mount it on the car in their garage. All for 90 bucks. Score. But, noooo, then they say the rim doesn’t seem quite right. Damn.
So I head back to their little mechanic garage to check it out. There’s a kid, maybe 19-years-old, messing with an air compressor by Hannah’s car. He recoils when he sees me, jumps back, eyes wide, horrified, like he’s seen a ghost. WTF?
An older mechanic over by the put-the-tire-on-the-rim machine chuckles and quietly tells him. “No te preocupes chico, no es la migre, es solo el abuelo buscando piernas bonitas para la abuela.” I know Geoff can readily translate this, but I was so amazed that I actually understood the words and the context I forgot to be offended. What he said was. “Don’t worry kid, it’s not immigration, it’s only grandpa looking for pretty legs for grandma,” The second part with the legs sounds sort of freaky, but it’s basically a funny Latino way of saying, “It’s only an old-timer looking for new tires for that old car.” Hmmm. Yeah. Most amusing. And the kid still seems nervous.
It dawns on me then that this kid, and many others who are working in places like this, are now probably scared shitless by Trump’s loudmouth promise to deport millions on “Day One”. For all this poor kid knows, Day One started the day Trump was elected. As I watch the kid badly pretending to be all casual as he slowly tries to slink away, I realize, damn, I’m wearing a black baseball hat, sunglasses, and a black jacket. Jeez, all I need is “ICE” or “immigration” printed in big white letters on the back of the jacket to complete the look. As an old white guy with short gray hair, I probably resemble a skinnier version of Trump’s new border czar, Thomas Homan.
I wonder what’ll happen under the new regime to places like L. Auto Parts and Pops and Sons and a bunch of other shops scattered around that neighborhood. These places don’t go out of their way to mention it, but they are Black-owned businesses. Heck, L. Auto Parts is owned by a Black woman. Not that this sanctifies them, but, c’mon, they are in there busting their asses, repurposing stuff that might otherwise go to landfills, treating their customers really well, doing a good thing for their community, and I’d just really hate to see them messed with.
Anyway, thanks to a flat tire, I had me quite the hometown cultural experience the past couple of days. Got a firsthand glimpse of the flip sides of Hispanic reactions to Trump; seeing some who backed him in the hope he’ll bring more safety and stability to their communities, and witnessing others now living in constant, palpable fear of being persecuted, jailed, or worse for coming to the US.
DC
Awesome II! But you left us hanging on the rim no fit question. Beat to fit?
(I sent the deportation info piece prior to reading this. Not a coincidence…Jungian collective consciousness. “Day One” is top of mind.)
-d.
Thanks for noticing that, Dave. I guess I skipped over the riveting rim fit conclusion in the interests of brevity and hammering home a point about deportation fears. And speaking of hammering, yeah, you–ahem–nailed it.
The older guy in the garage hammered on that bent-up rim for like a good half hour with a bfh until the rim was perfectly round again. No charge for that either. I think he was trying to atone for the grandfather/grandmother remark because, after he said it, I pointed to myself and to the old Versa in joking disbelief asking “Abuelo? Abuela?” He seemed pretty embarrassed that I had understood his joking and, meh, maybe slightly unflattering comments.
I thought for a moment maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, because, by speaking a little Spanish, I embarrassed the guy, and, even worse, seemed to have made the kid in the shop even more nervous–probably reinforcing in his mind the notion that I was some sort of border agent. Sigh. But, dang, that rim sure looks good now and the tire is still holding air. My thanks.
Dave, how did you guess the beat-to–fit solution? I hadn’t even realized that was a possibility.
DC
Good deportation primer, (5 min), on NPR this am. What might happen, what are the levers, (1798 Sedition Act to activate the military—not likely, but…) They make the point a couple times about red vs blue state cooperation—a friend was applauding Illinois governor J.B. Pritzker taking an aggressive, pro-active—“protect my people” anti-deportation stance a few days ago. Sticky wickets ahead. One passive aggressive thought—not that I would ever entertain it, way too august for that 😉—is sudden enforcement in Iowa of meat and chicken processing plants where so much depends upon “illegals”. Some have been here 15-20 years…integral part of the communities beyond just the plants, (school teachers, firefighters…), and so ae hard to track down. Same in California and other fertile valley/breadbasket states. Will never happen—would throw a portion of the economy into a disarray—but it would be nice to see a White House reporter make the press secretary squirm, having to explain the selective enforcement. Wait…forgot…my bad…that won’t be an issue, those members of the press fomenting unrest will be immediately ushered out of the room by the proud boys/oath keepers who will get the white house security contract. I envision handsome armbands…berets.
The interview was with an immigration bi-partisan group rep…something Seely ?— thought he was great and bi-partisan.
That Sedition Act brought to mind the 1940s Japanese internment camps of CA…where they just had a reunion baseball game, btw.
DS
Blowhard pols like Trump are fond of spewing all manner of stupid bluster on the campaign trail, like: deporting all illegals on Day 1, sending the military into Mexico after crime leaders, tariffs of 50% on imports.The economic fallout of these “promises” are so obviously catastrophic, I can’t imagine any will come to pass. When they don’t eventuate, Republicans will find some scapegoat for their blockage, maybe Marxist infiltrators of the Deep State. Then they’ll run on the same bullshit in the next election cycle,
Recently read a story in a Minnesota newspaper about Worthington, MN. The small southern MN city went from 95% white/Scandinavian to 80% immigrant/POC in the past 40 years (in terms of school registration). All because of its economic base being in meatpacking. No sane person with options would want to work those jobs. Anyway, big social changes ensued. The article suggested that while there is still segregation by ethnic and religious groups, the community is at least resigned to tolerating each other. I think those language and cultural barriers take a generation to break down. The biggest concern the remaining white population (and law enforcement) has about the immigrant population is traffic safety. Turns out no matter how or when you arrive in Smalltown USA, you gotta drive to survive. New arrivals don’t understand the MN driving rules and standards and aren’t volunteering themselves to the authorities to rectify that situation. Until now (hopefully). Super-Dad Tim Walz and his allies just passed a law permitting ALL residents, regardless of documentation status, to obtain official drivers licenses. Of course the GOP politicians howled about the coddling of immigrants, but it’s a basic public safety issue.
Mea culpa, I have often muttered (not always under my breath) about “damn immigrant drivers”, when a hijab wearing woman cuts me off in her 2001 Dodge minivan. Sorry.
MarkO
Regarding mass deportation. MarkO said it succinctly: The economic fallout of these “promises” <including mass deportation> are so obviously catastrophic, I can’t imagine any will come to pass.
Allow me to blather on this topic without substantively improving on MarkO’s statement.
On May 7 of this year, a damaging hailstorm hit southern Milwaukee County. At the time (mid afternoon), I was at Aldi with wife, daughter, and her two toddlers. We went to check out and Holy Shit was it dark out there. An absolutely torrential downpour gave way to large hailstones (I’d estimate them at about 2/3 the size of a golf ball).
Our street was, I think, the epicenter of the damage, though there was clearly damage within a mile in all directions. Every house on our block has gotten a new roof, and most homes have resided (despite, in most cases, only partial coverage from the insurance companies). Two of our vehicles were damaged to the tune of $25,000 between them.
The economic response to the storm was pretty dramatic. The neighborhood was flooded with contractors looking to sign up homeowners. These roofing & siding companies were often referred to pejoratively as “storm chasers” but what are they supposed to do? You go where the business is. There was also a lot of propaganda being bandied about how nobody should go with an “Illinois” company, but who the hell cares? They accept green money in Illinois, too.
Getting to the point finally. The two crews that worked on our home (separate roofing & siding) were comprised of Mexican workers exclusively. The contractors, of course, are all white men. But the crews are Mexican. Of all the crews I saw (and I’m talking dozens), only two roofing crews were non-Mexicans. They were, instead, older white guys, guys who appear to be just about aged out of the roofing game. That is some backbreaking work.
I’ve got to imagine that a significant proportion of the crews were undocumented. They didn’t speak English, anyhow.
What would happen if Trump’s Gestapo managed to deport all of these workers without papers? Or, more likely, what if a significant bunch of them self-deport? This would very quickly cripple the roofing contractors. They would need to consolidate crews, and would be able to take on far fewer jobs. Fewer jobs–whether repairs or new construction–means fewer shingles and bundles of siding being ordered. There would be slowdowns at the suppliers and at the manufacturers as well. Slowing of new construction would mean slowing of all the economic activity associated with new homes–carpets, furniture, cabinets, paint, windows and window treatments, flooring, plumbing, appliances, etc. Consider also that many of the interior construction crews are Mexican as well.
So yeah, clearly, mass deportation means major disruption in the construction industry.And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Trump has shown the ability to grasp major economic concepts. There’s just no way he’s going to let the economy tank, especially when (as he fully knows) it’s beginning to hit on all cylinders (Thanks Joe & Fed for the soft landing). The only question is, what kind of performative deportation program are we going to get?
Note that nobody on the Republican side has said a word about making E-Verify mandatory. The program’s in place and it works–98% accurate. It’s free of charge to businesses. So why hasn’t the business community demanded mandatory enforcement? That’s easy. Cuz they need the workers. It’s all a sham.
MM
Re my clairvoyance: Well sonny, this here abuelo has been around the block a time or two. But actually it was a guess. It is also a joke in spec writing for construction, which covers products, materials, workmanship, etc… “Caulk to fill, beat to fit, paint to match” is a common shortcut for a lot of words that essentially say just that.
….miss those days of junkyard sourcing. My ’73 AMC Hornet Sportabout, bought in ’79 for $1200, 18,000 miles—driven by a little old lady, Ina, secretary of my mom’s bowling league, and partner on her team. She won the car in our St. Mary’s church raffle. How’s that for a big fat slice of American Pie.
Tucson Mark would appreciate the max setting on the AC: desert only it forewarned and rightly so. With even the slightest amount of humidity, moisture would condense on the coil—like they all do—but then freeze—which none do (anymore). The block of ice would grow and eventually stop all air flow… until one eased back the setting. It would then melt/evaporate the ice block spewing a cold fog into the cabin. GM 232 straight six. I climbed around junkyards for: radio knob, carburetor (after trying to rebuild mine, I had so many parts left over….was in that dark state of doubt….bailed and got a new-used one), exhaust manifold—mine cracked, that was easy…so was the new blue drivers door (green car)—existing hinges were rusted bad, listing. Pretty sure, Kenosha AMC invented the mini-wagon.
–ds
Hmm. Back to cars. Love the Hornet Sportabout ramble. The origins of the car are especially interesting to me because my father won a St. Mary’s raffle car, a 1971 pastel blue Ford Maverick. This godsend came from the Menomonee Falls Catholic St. Mary’s, perhaps the Hornet came from another sainted community raffle. Anyways, nobody in 1971 wanted a pastel blue car, if they ever did. It was also a three-on-the-tree manual transmission, which nobody wanted. And it was a Ford Maverick, a model that had no reason to exist. Nevertheless, it was a free new vehicle, after ponying up the taxes. It didn’t last long before my brother mercifully totalled it on a rural WI highway.
AC? Well, weren’t you the fancy one! In my day, air conditioning was something only rumored about. You wanted to stay cool on a hot summer drive, you shove a bag of melting ice cubes down your crotch, that’s what you do!
MarkO
Hence the term 4-60 air conditioning. Open all 4 windows, go 60 mph.
<groan>
MM
Wha…. ? The AMC Green Hornet? The powder-blue Maverick? Catholic Church raffles where your parents/relatives scored these most undesirable of ’70’s American cars? Whoa. This should be a whole ‘nother way cool thread in and of itself. I say let’s break these threads down based on theme, post them, do some other requisite social media, then chip in for a sweet ’73 Hornet that we all ride in from town to town on our dadbot speaking tour.
DC
…and both St. Mary’s churches! Two different cities.
3 on the tree Ford Maverick—people’s car: Dennis and I had a roommate in college. Recently re-connected, parents were both ISU (Cyclones) profs. Water/ecosystems grad student (Remote Sensing was his major if memory serves), big beard, probably hit the weed harder than the rest of us, which is saying something. Had that wild look in his eye to match his name. But a kind, mellow guy, if that makes any sense (didn’t want to paint the wrong picture). Probably did a lot of good for the world as a prof out west—Oregon State?, now married and retired on Kauai, (the garden island—a perfect fit for his persona). He needed a ride to some weeklong field trip departure point—Bascom Hall, so he drove and told me I’d be fine with the tree driving back. He of course had a bowl going to get ready for his bus ride, which we of course shared. Tree shifting was totally foreign…I barely knew how to drive standards. You can imagine the solo ride home for me…only 2 miles but I definitely ground a pound or two. The medicine helped me remain calm, not freak out…if that makes any sense.
The Sportabout tour is pure genius. Suggest we extend it to Kauai “just show up” at Randy’s, w/ external frame camping backpacks…a few days of facial hair. Hang out, hike, sort issues of the day, play sheeps.
-ds
I remember him, nice guy.
The AMCs and the Maverick, Vega, and Pinto were the clumsy attempts by US automakers to deliver something other than land yachts. Remember the Chevette? Detroit sure had its lunch money taken by Honda and Toyota! The first wave of globalization.
Bots, these reminisces here are great. Can we plan to take this thing live at some point, rather than virtual? I guess it would depend on MarkO being in the Midwest. Not sure when that happens.
Hey, I’m retired, free, a man of my own destiny, as long as it’s ok with my wife. I could even roadtrip to Minnesota. If provided with the proper retro vehicle.
MM
Don’t forget the Pacer. Garth’s sweet ride.
G
Baker City, Oregon, last August.
What a sleek machine!
Photo by MarkM
-MM
What the f? Why were you holding back this mint condition gem? It came with an 8 and standard trannie. Poppin’ that clutch was a rubber burning site to behold.
Note the up to no good Gremlin on the gas tank, MS plates and those futuristic door handles. Attached is back of a tee shirt I happened upon in Mayfair mall a good 30 years ago—one of those “in the aisle” stands selling soon to be landfill items…front had an AMX, captioned AMC’s Boss New Car for ‘68. Had to contain my glee when making the purchase, lest they raised the price. Price was no object. Yes, I still have it.
The 2nd attachment didn’t make the tee, so adding it. We owned that exact color…’cept we had a landau roof—nothing but the best. My dad was a 3rd shift welder at AMC btw. The seats reclined–handy for my high-school sweetheart and I while discovering birds, bees.
The car: Matador.
The killer joke: Q: Did you hear about AMC’s next version? The Matababy? Response: No, Whatsamataby? A: Nothing honey. pa doom, pa doom
-.
Photo by Dave S.
-ds
Ah, you bots make me nostalgic for my beautiful cars of yore. My 1962 Pink Cadillac (bought from a Sopranos lookalike for $250), my 1964 VW Microdot Bus stick shift (which in a pinch could be shifted with a broken clutch—you just had to listen for the right rev), and—the coup de grace—my babyshit brown 1971 Hornet wagon. I remember once coming back from Madison, I heard a monster clunk from underneath. It kept running, so I took it home. When I looked underneath, I saw the starter had fallen off—luckily it caught in the undercarriage, and I was able to reattach it using the two wheels on the curb jack.
AMC cars were the epitome of the seventies—an underabundance of style.
G
An overabundance of style and total absence of aesthetic? When I see the rear end of a Matador, all I can think is “that is one bootylicious ride.”
The first car I can say I owned was a ’71 pumpkin paint Pontiac Lemans. Could burn rubber pretty well but was basically unsafe at any speed. Execute a turn on slick pavement? Fugitaboutit!
MarkO
Funny you should say that about the Matador, Mark. My first impression of the Matador is that it has a big ass.
The coolest car I drove as a younger person was my parents’ orange Duster. Very sporty. Black vinyl interior. (Remember vinyl? In winter it was like sitting on ice.). The Duster was in the straight sixDodge/Plymouth family.
Unfortunately, my vision blocked by a giant snow bank in the median, I turned left in front of oncoming traffic and totaled it in 1979. My parents took the news pretty well. And for once, I was stone cold sober behind the wheel. My dad was laid up after heart surgery, so my mom bought a used car from a work friend—another Plymouth, this one a Satellite. Totally unmaneuverable in the type of winter we used to have. You want to talk about a big ass end on a car. You could fit a grand piano in the trunk. (With the sandbags and the case of Heet, of course. )
MM
My first wife came with a dowry consisting mainly of an old Plymouth Ruster. The Duster ran on four of the six cylinders, which was a good thing because the brakes didn’t work. It was my commuter car for a time. After I rolled into the back of a school bus one morning after a quarter mile of furious brake pumping, I decided that was enough. More grist for the scrapyard compressor.
MarkO