CRUSHING

THE BROWNSVILLE TIMES: "Although we were unhappy with the overall results, we are optimistic about Marisa Leal taking her seat at the big table."

(EDITOR'S NOTE: It was no secret that The Brownsville Times was pushing the candidacies of Erasmo "El Queso" Castro and Carlos "El Cobarde" Elizondo for the BISD Board of Trustees. The blog's rhetoric sounded like it had been taped from Castro's Brownsville Talk podcast on which Elizondo appeared frequently, both echoing that everything was bad in the BISD. Wrote The Brownsville Times prior to the election: "I've seen blatant corruption, greed and threats. What kind of leader is BISD Superintendent Rene Gutierrez stating teachers are lazy and don't want to work? What kind of guy is he? This guy is a joke who is screwing us with his close to half-million-dollar salary annually. The board dared to continue letting Dr. Sylvia Atkinson take part in board meetings even after her arrest. Yet they colluded against Erasmo Castro. Why? Just because they didn’t like him? Because he went to check on the BISD staff personally? Because he’s a popular figure in the community? But yet they let Atkinson strut in the boardroom like she wasn’t facing jail time? Unfortunately, the current board has made a mockery for long enough." Apparently, The Brownsville Times' message that Castro and Elizondo were going to lead us to heaven fell on deaf ears. The voters saw the pathetic pair as incarnations of Satan and Lucifer who were going to lead the BISD straight to hell and, by more than 60% to 40% margins, gave the two the thumbs down. Did The Brownsville Times really think that these agents of chaos with no positive agenda were going to win when for starters Castro had to resign from the board for excessive drinking as well as less than professional behavior and Elizondo suffered the humiliation of being terminated as fire chief as well as facing one felony charge after another? This is Trump thinking that he can grab a teacher by the pussy at Hanna High School and shoot Mayor Trey Mendez on Elizabeth Street at high noon. This is the Fox News perspective that reality is an illusion and the ignorant masses can only be enlightened if they pledge their blind allegiance to a false prophet. Never has there been two worse candidates than Castro and Elizondo and the electorate rose to the occasion by delivering the duo a merciless ass-kicking. We do agree with The Brownsville Times that Minerva Peña deserved her ass-kicking as well and somebody should kick her in the balls so she never rises again from the dust of her defeat. Though we supported Joe Rodriguez in that contest, we wish Marisa Leal the best of luck and hope that she isn't her husband's puppet.)

WHY

 "Why?" you cry. "Why?"

You have slept with every guy

from el barrio to the country club,

from Brownsville to Matamoros,

from McAllen to  Reynosa,

from San Antonio to Monterrey,

from Denver to D.F.

and you ask why?

I don't kiss you.

I don't hug you.

I don't hold you.

I don't love you.

You soiled our felicity

with your promiscuity.

BLOGGERS BLOG

The local elections are over and we can only pray that Donald Trump's presidency will be over January 20, but nobody is putting anything past him. It may be time for Joe Biden to quit playing Mr. Nice Guy. We have not extirpated the cancer from the White House. Biden must remove the tumor from Washington D.C. and then he can go back to being Uncle Joe. 

Trump could give a damn about the number of deaths that will claim thousands of Americans over the next 70 days. This dictator with the black soul of an Adolf Hitler only cares about his own survival. We will have weeks to rant and rave about Trump sabotaging our democracy. There is a more pressing concern that presently preoccupies us:

What is the state of blogging in Brownsville?

Sadly, we are known as the Third World Capital of the United states, but, happily, we are also known as the Blogging Capital of the United States. How have we earned that reputation?

In the last election bloggers were responsible for many of the winners and losers at the BISD, TSC, Cameron County and the Port of Brownsville. While The Brownsville Herald reporters were eating spam on moldy white bread, the bloggers were jumping into the sty with the rest of the pigs because nothing compares to the hog heaven of being a muckraker in the middle of the mudslinging. The lazy Herald staffers will never know the taste of expensive ham.

Brownsville's impressive blog lineup begins with Juan Montoya's El Rrun Rrun. Nobody breaks more stories than Montoya. The entire Herald staff doesn't publish half the controversial stories that Montoya posts. And his anonymous commentary is nasty shit in which nobody is spared, not even Montoya himself. It is said that when he reads too may complimentary comments, he submits an anonymous opinion blasting the shit out of himself.

While he doesn't have Montoya's readership because he considers his blog little more than a passing amusement that he frequently abandons for destinations unknown, /DP-M, the publisher of The Brownsville Republic only recently renamed The Brownsville Flyer, covered the waterfront (He lives in McAllen, so he doesn't have to worry about getting wet!) as well as anyone with writing skills and reporting talents that he has honed during an impressive four-decades-long journalistic career.

Of course, every realm has to have a court jester and nobody fills that role more indecently than Booby Witless-Cervezas, the publisher of The Brownsville Voice. Physically and mentally ill, Witless-Cervezas attracts an audience who find his many maladies risible. He calls himself the unbought blogger, but he is more accurately the bully blogger who more often than not encounters the 98-pound-weakling kicking sand in his face.

Jim Barton, the publisher of The Brownsville Voice, has been opining about Brownsville for many years, but the death of one wife and the addition of a new wife has changed his priorities. He occasionally emerges from his bedroom a la John Lennon to inform the public that the Coronavirus hasn't claimed him, but he isn't nearly as arduous as he once was attending meetings and providing the public with provocative information. He recently asserted that he was back, but maybe he was intimating that he was on his back in his hammock with the love of his life in his arms. It's difficult to type if your hands are busy elsewhere.

Diego Garcia, the publisher of The Brownsville Beacon, resides in the penumbra. He occasionally entertains with long-winded but sincere and colorful renditions on a variety of subjects. He reminds us of our own Annie Gunn who once commented about one of her many romances, "I love him, but he doesn't fuck me enough!"

Then we have the mysterious Brownsville Times and the eponymous Juan Garcia, the latter who has turned his Facebook into a blog for all intents and purposes. The Times did a solid job covering the Sylvia Atkinson trial while the Juan Garcia page specializes in taking no prisoners. We wouldn't be surprised if the site recommended the death penalty for Atkinson. Both operate under anonymity, but both are sympathetic to Erasmo Castro causes. The two might package themselves as the Fox News of Brownsville. In their defense to protect their identities, we have asserted since the beginning of our journey on the internet that it isn't the messenger that is important but the message. 

And, of course, there is The McHale Report. As politicians like to state when they are seeking reelection, we, at The McHale Report, say, "Our record speaks for itself." We have covered the gamut in experiences and emotions and we're still in the middle of the fray although we are exploring other artistic avenues. Success or failure means nothing to us. It's the act that actuates the atman.

We support all the different voices. Each voice causes a public official to shudder or think twice before he steals anyway. With the Herald renouncing its responsibilities to keep the powerful accountable and transparent on behalf of the powerless, the bloggers at least give it that good ol' college try.   

LITTLE BITCH

 Howard Cosell, the greatest sports announcer and commentator of his time, was known best for "telling it like it is."

Let's tell it like it is. And how to you tell it like it is? Every sports aficionado ultimately substantiates his argument by looking at the numbers. Here are the numbers:

In 2016 Trump lost the popular vote by three million, yet won the electoral college, 306-232. 

"We had a massive landslide victory, as you know, in the Electoral College and I guess the final number if 306," said a triumphant Trump as he paraded through the streets of Washington D.C. as if he were Julius Caesar returning to Rome and in the wake of defeating the Gauls. 

"The Democrats have suffered one of the greatest defeats in the history of this country." 

Though it was neither a landslide nor one of the Democrats' greatest defeats, we forgive the instinctual liar for his hyperbole. Prevaricators are naturally prone to exaggerations. 

He failed to emphasize that he had lost the popular vote, 65 million to 62 million. If he had been running for president in Mexico, the victor based solely on the popular vote, he wouldn't have prevailed. 

Since we love bashing Mexico for its politics, we should never forget that our southern neighbors has a purer form of democracy than we do. 

This year Trump predicted a red wave and he was correct as he added more than eight million to his popular vote in comparison to his first campaign. 

However, Biden, surfing a blue tsunami, saw his totals crest at more than ten million new voters as he cruised to a 75 million to a 70 million popular vote difference. 

Georgia's Secretary of State, a Republican, has asserted that Biden's 11,000 lead will stand in a recount and the state's 16 electoral votes will go to the Democrats, thus giving Biden a 306 to 232 victory, a "landslide" win if we adhere to Trump's 2016 standards. 

In two presidential elections, in which he has come out on the short end twice in a one-person-one vote democracy, Trump has lost by more than eight million votes. Those are the numbers of a winner!!! 

When Hillary Clinton succumbed to reality in 2016, she took it like a man. 

Clinton, a spoiled, rotten brat who has become evil as he has aged, is acting like a little bitch who will go down in history as the worst president who ever defiled the White House. 

That is the proper fate of a loser.  

CAPTAIN LAW

I had just settled into my seat and was looking forward to my cup of coffee and a tortilla con carne guisada when the phone rang.

"Captain?"

"Yeah."

"This is Lieutenant Gonzalez."

"What's up, Lieutenant?"

"We have a body in a field next to the Military Highway a mile past Veterans High School."

"Give me the details."

"She must be in early twenties at most, Anglo, long blonde hair, a tattoo of a mermaid one one shoulder and a sun on the other shoulder with a ring through her belly button."

"Did you touch the body, Lieutenant?"

"Of course not, sir. She is nude and is lying on her back."

"Are there any marks of violence?"

"She has multiple stab wounds."

"How long do you estimate since she was murdered?"

"Three to six hours, sir. I would guess that she was stabbed elsewhere and her body dumped here."

"Very good, lieutenant. I'm sure you have sealed the area. Do you have back-up?"

"There are several officers here, sir."

"Don't allow anyone near the body until I arrive. Let me enjoy sip of coffee and a bite of my tortilla and I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"Yes, sir."

I was starting a Monday with a murder. At least it was alliterative. I called Public Information and let Sergeant Garcia know the about the incident. I told him to keep the facts regarding the victim to a minimum, to emphasize we were in the middle of an ongoing investigation and we had no suspect. I repeated the line about anyone having any knowledge of the crime to contact the usual number. I concluded by adding that if the newspaper or the television stations called to direct them to the crime scene.

"What happened to your Cowboys last night, Captain?"

"They got the shit kicked out of them, but nearly as bad as this little girl. I hope she wasn't your daughter?"

"Sorry, Captain."

I communicated Detective Contreras to accompany me.

"What's up, Captain?"

"We have the murder of a young girl. I need your assistance."

Whenever there was a female victim, I called Contreras or one of her female underlings. Though it wasn't quite the same as a doctor examining a woman alone in hir office, I always kept my distance. I had a 14-year-old step-daughter and though we shared a healthy relationship, I never quit reminding her mother that her daughter was her business and I was strictly Mr. Nice Guy who existed on the periphery. If she had problems, it was her mother's responsibility to solve them and to never involve me. If she needed $10 to go to the movies, she could count on me, but if she was having a traumatic teenage moment, I was leaving to go play tennis.

Investigator Contreras was a looker. As a 25-year-old vet of the Brownsville Police Department, I had successfully kept my professional and personal lives separate, but she was capable of testing all my powers of temptation. While all women pine for a romance with a man in a uniform at least one, nobody did more to enhance her attire than Contreras.

"Did you cut your hair?" I asked.

"Do you like it?" 

"I like it shorter. And have you lost weight also?"

"Divorces are miracle workers."

"It is finalized?"

"Finally. How is it with you guys that the perfect man becomes the cruelest monster?"

"We're like Dracula or Werewolf. We're victims of the elements. There are chemical changes that take place when we least expect them and we don't recognize ourselves."

"I thought that only women with their periods and menopause became emotionally unhinged, but if there's a full moon I need to keep my distance from every male?"

"I've been divorced four times and if I marry again I expect that matrimony to end. Between boredom and putting up with their shit, women lose their allure and there's another one to take their place."

"Aren't you the macho?"

"Life's too short. There is nothing worse than coming home from a hard day at work only to encounter a one-time beauty who has metamorphose into a bitch. I may have loved them once, but God has given me the power to forget them from one moment to the next. Have you started dating yet?"

"There's a lawyer, and I won't mention his name because you're the biggest gossip in town, that I've had dinner with two or three times, but he's in the peacock stage showing all his feathers and I find all this pretending irksome. Getting to know someone is as burdensome as getting rid of someone."

We arrived at the scene. Law enforcement in all its glory had gathered out of curiosity. The Sheriff' Department, DPS, the Border Patrol and even two school district squad cars had stopped to observe the commotion.

I waved and muttered "hi" since I knew most of the gathering, but I didn't stop. I spotted Lieutenant Gonzalez. He was standing with the rigidity of a guard at the White House. He had been a Marine and he could probably remain at attention for 24/7. Nobody would ever pass him without him bringing them to the ground.

"Where's the body, Gonzalez?"

"Ten yards straight ahead, sir."

"Has forensics arrived, Gonzalez?"

"No, sir."

"Keep your position and don't allow anyone near the victim until forensics arrives."

"Yes, sir."

"Detective Contreras! Follow me."

We walked through the severed stalks of corn until we reached the body. I stared at her naked body with its many slits from knife thrusts. I couldn't help but notice that she had the most beautiful pair of tits and that she shaved her pussy. I was an old-school guy. I liked a hairy cunt. There was something about hitting that hairline when you seduce a woman that added to the excitement as your hand crept southward.

"Take a closer look, Detective, but don't touch anything. Remember we must leave our shoes with forensics because they might find evidence on our soles."

Contreras gingerly walked around the body. She leaned over the supine figure for extended moments and then would step lightly forward in a circular movement. It was going to be a typical humid day. Perspiration was collecting on my brow. I hated South Texas summer months. After sleeping in air-conditioning all night, the still, thick air was no way to greet the day. It was worse than hitting a wall. The temperature might rise throughout the day, but in the late afternoon the breezes would blow off the gulf and you could comfortably sit in the backyard and drink a beer. Nothing caught my eye except I could discern the direction the body had been dragged to its present location. I yelled to Gonzalez to make sure that nobody stepped on the improvised path. There were no discarded clothes anywhere. I waited for Contreras to finish her inspection.

"What did you find, Detective?"

"There are at least 30 stab wounds. I believed she was rape by the discharge I observed around her vagina. There was some blood around her fingernails, which leads me to deduce that there was a struggle. I didn't note any bruises and I have little doubt that she was dead when her murderer dumped her here."

"Very good, Detective. Write your report when we arrive at the office."

In the few minutes we had stood at the victim's side, all the experts had arrived. I gave them a general lay of the land and once again pointed out the path along which the victim had been dragged. They guaranteed me photos and reports by tomorrow at the latest and possibly by the end of the day. Everybody went methodically about their assignments. It wasn't a sloppy mess as when a body has been rotting in the sun for several days or there are three or four mangled bodies in a head-on collision.

"She was a beauty," said Contreras. "I'm surprised that nobody has filed a missing-persons report. She obviously wasn't a vagrant. Do you have any theories, Holmes?"

"Holmes wouldn't have been such a wooden figure if he had had you as his Dr. Watson, but on the surface I'm going to surmise that we will have it solved by the end of the day."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from The Legend."

"This is a crime of passion based on the stab wounds. The murderer was so overwrought that he couldn't stop stabbing her once he lost control of himself in a fit of jealous rage. The murderer is her boyfriend or her lover or whatever title you choose to designate the person with whom she was having an intimate relationship. She had either cheated on him or was going to leave him and he went berserk. He convinced her to meet him under any number of pretexts. Once he had her in the car, I don't doubt that he drove into the country, somewhere near this site I would gander, took her down a dirt road off the highway and ripped off her clothes, raped her, succumbed to a stabbing frenzy and then quickly rid himself of the body. He isn't a professional criminal, so our colleagues will find more than sufficient evidence to nail the subject. Once we locate her family, everything will fall into place."

"You are like a computer shooting out information, Captain. Don't you feel any emotion?"

"It is our job to solve the crime, not live the crime. We're like the pound. We collect the dead dog. We don't preoccupy ourselves imagining the car hitting the animal. It's our job to pick up the pieces. We can't lose sleep over the fact that we can't put the pieces back together again. But I must confess that I do have an empty feeling."

"That's gratifying to hear. At least there's some humanity left in you."

"You miss my point, Detective. When I received this call, I was going to eat my breakfast. I'm starving. Breakfast is on me."

"If all men are as cold as you, Captain, I'm doomed."

"After huevos rancheros, Detective, life won't seem so bleak. I have found that a woman with a full stomach is much more optimistic about her future."

BLOGGER CONTEMPLATES BELLY BUTTON

 "What does a blogger do when the political season is over?"

He decompresses.

"How do you plan to decompress?"

I'm going to exercise and play tennis more regularly for starters. Then there are the personal projects that I have had on hold while I've navigated the political season.

"I saw that you wrote that you were going to be less informative about Brownsville. Is that true? Is that possible?"

I'm spending less time blogging and more time pursuing other creative activities.

"Like what?"

I have a Russian size memoir that is going to require months of work. There are poems and short stories that occur to me. There will be no lack of writing.

"I suppose without politics, there isn't much to write about locally?"

The stories never cease. There are soap operas at the city, the county, the school district, the college, the port, GBIC, BCIC and PUB for starters. There are scores of personalities whom I can feature. There is the struggle to promote downtown and we still have Coronavirus killing us. Watching the Trump meltdown will be entertaining. There is never a dearth of material. The question we ask ourselves are they worth following? At The McHale Report we are featuring photos with satirical and cynical headlines that the insiders can appreciate as you have noticed recently. It is important to keep the blog and Facebook alive because we think of ourselves as an outlet if a person finds himself in distress but with no platform to tell his story.

"I am deducing that your blogging has become a habit that you can't easily abandon?"

There is truth to that conclusion, but I'm tired of the same bullshit. I won't ignore obvious wrongs in our community, but if I don't do a better job at exploring my literary side, I feel that I will be spinning my wheels and going nowhere fast.

"Is City Commissioner Ben Neece running for reelection?"

Stop it!!! I'm only interested in Biden solidifying his lead against Trump. As far as Brownsville is concerned, I don't want to entertain municipal questions until January. In case I don't see your ugly face in the near future, Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas.

WE CELEBRATE A SPECIAL MOMENT

 I have three sons. Each, of course, is special to me. Carlos, my eldest, epitomizes the faithful son and the vigilant big brother. He was born on a sunny November 5th in 1987. It was a momentous occasion for me. I had always been a good-time dude and now I had a child to raise.

Since my memory is fading, I can't recall him as an infant with the exception of a photo when he can't be more than one and we were at the beach. He is standing in his speedo with the same existentialist gaze he carries to this very day.

As a child, he loved to claw through the dirt in search of bugs and worms for hours. I taught him to play all the sports, but he was a self-absorbed child who never required anyone to entertain him. With his mother and soon-to-follow little brother, we spent many joyful evenings at Gio's. There was never a dearth of conversation and laughter. 

I can only remember spanking Carlos on one occasion. Joaquin, his brother, I had to whack on the ass a half-dozen times because he had this terrible habit of darting out of the car without looking and I had no other choice but to physically discipline him because he was risking his life and my sanity.

The sole time I took Carlos out behind the woodshed as they say, Joaquin, to nobody's surprise, was partly responsible. They were more or less five and three and they entered a liquor store with me. I was paying at the counter when I heard bottles crashing to the floor. The two had been horsing around and knocked over a pyramid display of wine bottles. I tanned their little butts, not so much to discipline them as demonstrate to the clerk that I was stern father with the hope that he wouldn't charge me for the damage. He didn't.

It goes without saying that no relation is perfect and we faced personal and emotional challenges, but ultimately a good father and a good son find their way back to each other. There are few occasions that compare to spending time with him.

Friday night we went to La Pampa which has replaced Gio's. The latter evokes a time that fills us with a painful nostalgia. We both share a weakness for sentimentality. There were the two of us, Claudia, Val, Carlos' girlfriend, and Michael, my youngest son. We ate and drank well. And there was no lack of conversation and laughter.

Nothing brings parents peace like their children's happiness. Carlos is in a good place right now. At 33 years of age--the same age Christ was crucified I reminded him--he has his college education, has taught among a variety of other occupations, is living out the blue-collar blues as a Culligan Man and is pursuing his Master's in a computer specialty.

Handsome and intelligent, two qualities he inherited from his mother, he will always be my oldest son. I give thanks daily that the fates were kind when they bestowed me with such a loving and kind person. William Carlos McHale, half Mexican-American and half Anglo-American, embraces his roots. On his birthday, I embrace him.

Un abrazo, mi hijo!    

Palm Lounge

I met City Commissioner Ben Neece for lunch at The Palm Lounge. The Judge and I have shared plenty of legal and personal adventures together. We don't see each much these days with Coronavirus hanging over the community. I don't get around much anymore as the song goes and I seldom visit downtown these days with the pandemic.

"I see you closed The McHale Report office. I thought we could depend on your commitment to downtown until infinity," began Ben in his usual accusatory manner.

We're breaking up the operations. The staff has departed. I'm going to maintain it from home, but I'm not going to write about Brownsville politics as I once did. I'm tired of the bullshit.

"What did you think about the elections?"

I'm glad Garza and Aldrete won at the college. We knew that Lopez would win at the Port, but I was surprised that Reed eked out a win over Graña, but in the end the gringo worked and Graña chose to take a siesta throughout the campaign.

"What about the school board elections?"

I'm happy Daniella and Eddie beat the shit out of Erasmo and Carlos. Castro and Elizondo have big mouths but small balls. They want power and exploit the voters' dissatisfaction to build support, but we saw that their lack of integrity has left them with no credibility. Jessica Gonzalez crushing Phil Cowen was the biggest shocker of the night. If Marisa Leal holds on to her ten-vote lead in the recount, the board will be better for Minerva Peña's departure. She has more than worn out her welcome. I felt sorry for 'Big' Joe, but at 84 he didn't have his mojo anymore. All the pundits predicted Denise Garza would win. I find it sad, thought, that in Jessica, Marisa and Denise we have three very uneducated persons overseeing educators, but such is the beauty of democracy.

"Did you think that the sheriff's race would be closer?"

You hear enough rumors and you believe there is truth to them, but in the end it will be a cold day in hell before a Republican good ol' boy named Chambers from Harlingen will defeat a Democratic Mexicano named Garza from Brownsville. Plus, the pinche Republican was unfit for the job. They didn't call him the Lawless Lawman for nothing. He had a more extensive record than the majority of the inmates he was going to oversee had he prevailed.

"Is Biden going to eke it out?"

I sure hope so. He is at the threshold at 253 to 232 with 270 the goal, but Trump has runners on base in the bottom of the ninth and with a home run he executes yet another come-from-behind miracle.

"When will we know the final result?"

When they stop counting?

"When will that be? It's been two days. Tomorrow? This weekend?"

They are going through the ballots in Pennsylvania, Georgia, Nevada and Arizona. Trump is leading in the first two, but votes are trending toward Biden and he could win both. In the other two, Biden is leading, but votes are trending toward Trump and he could win both. And when the counting ends, the litigations begins, particularly if Trump falls short of the magic number.

"Anything else, bro?" 

Not much, 'mano. Still looking for salvation, but we're never going to achieve that transcendent state if we're afraid to take the first step.

"Another beer?"

Sounds good.

WELCOME

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, damas y caballeros, to the Presidential Bowl. We have a beautiful day as the sun is shining from coast to coast and from border to border as defending champion President Donald Trump and his Republican Elephants take the field as underdogs against Joe Biden and the Democratic Donkeys. It's not often that you see the defending champion in the role of an underdog, Moore?

You've got that right, Les, but we remember four years ago when Hillary Clinton led her heavily favored Democrats against the upstart and Trump pulled off the upset of the century. Will lightening strike twice? 

That's the reason they play the game, Moore. How did both sides reach the finals?

Trump had virtually no competition, Les, and won without breaking a sweat in the primaries. Biden huffed and puffed out of the starting gate but after a crucial early-stage victory in South Carolina, he quickly gathered steam and cruised to today's showdown.

Why are the oddsmakers putting their money on Biden, Moore?

There are a number of factors, Les. Trump is no longer an unknown. He has a four-year record which includes the COVID pandemic, the economic downturn and civil unrest. These misfortunes are happening under his watch; he can't blame these setbacks on his opponent. As vice-president under Barack Obama, Biden and the Democrats enjoyed a prosperous and peaceful eight years. With Coronavirus responsible for 230,000 deaths, nine million diagnosed cases and millions of Americans without employment, Trump enters this fray on the defense with Biden attacking him at every turn. The president, on the other hand, hasn't effectively countered Biden in their mano-a-mano clashes. Las Vegas is also looking at the numbers and they calculate that Biden holds a significant advantage in the electoral college.

I'm sure most of our listeners are aware of the objective, but in case they aren't, if either Biden or Trump attains 270 electoral votes, he is the president for the next four years. What are projections on which the bookies are basing their bets, Moore?

Trump beat Clinton, 306 to 232, last time. The pundits are betting the house that Biden will easily win 217 of those votes while Trump, who incredibly flipped several traditional Democratic states, can bank on only 162 votes at this juncture, Les.

Does that total include Texas, Moore?

Yes, it does, Les.

But the talking heads have been calling it a tossup state, Moore.

I'm going to give it to you straight, good buddy. If Texas goes Democratic, Biden will lead his Democrats to an outcome of historic proportions. There is no Trump without Texas. Though demographics are changing and Texas is 50% minority, I don't believe we have reached the tipping point. Beto O'Rourke sent a message when he lost only 52% to 48% to Senator Ted Cruz two years ago, but I don't think that message will arrive this cycle. Trump losing Texas, Les, and the Republicans will find themselves in a civil war that will inevitably lead to much blood-letting among their ranks.

With Biden ostensibly holding a 217 to 162 lead before the two take the field, where should the fans look to perceive the deciding factors, Moore?

There are eleven states that total 157 votes as well as Maine's second district and Nebraska's second district that have one electoral vote each. To win if the early predictions prove true, Biden needs 53 of the 159 and Trump needs 108 of the 159. The math vividly confirms Trump as a significant underdog, Les.

Besides the districts in Maine and Nebraska, what are the competitive states and their electoral votes, Moore.

This is the list, partner. Arizona has 11, Michigan, 16, Minnesota, 10, Ohio, 18, Pennsylvania, 20, Florida, 29, Georgia, 16, Nevada, 6, Iowa, 6, North Carolina, 15, and Wisconsin, 10.

And how are the candidates doing in each of these states, Moore?

If you want to believe the polls, Les, Biden has the upper hand, but after the Democratic fiasco in 2016, nobody is discounting another Trump feat of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. Since the Democrats live in such paranoia of reliving another nightmare, they don't dare entertain the possibility, but there are a few insiders who contend that Trump's self-destructive tendencies could doom him to a landslide loss.

I've never known you to retreat from a prediction, Moore. Your wife and children's lives are on the line, but their futures aren't based solely on prognosticating the the victor. You must also be within ten electoral votes on the final figure.

You are a son-of-a-bitch, Les. I'm sorry, folks. I forgot we were on air, but you've heard Trump use the expression on countless occasions at his rallies. Biden wins Arizona with its 11, Michigan with its 16, Minnesota with its 10, Pennsylvania with its 20, Nevada with its 6, Wisconsin with its 10 and the Nebraska second district with its one. Let me add these numbers. In my heart of hearts I really believe that Biden is going to win bigger because Trump is so hated, but I'm going to stick with my brain. With these electoral votes, Biden prevails, 281 to 257.

You heard it here first, folks. My longtime broadcasting pal Moore says that Joe Biden will be the next president of our nation. If he's wrong on either prediction, I'm sure there are scores of militia groups who would be more than happy to slaughter his entire family. And that includes a pair of the cutest Chihuahuas you will ever see. So sit back and enjoy the action, gang. We're expecting a classic.

THE MCHALE REPORT CLOSES

 I walked into The McHale Report offices on Washington St. in historic downtown. Managing Editor, Scott Steinbeck, was holding down the fort as usual. He pulled out his bottle of whiskey from his bottom drawer. He poured two glasses as I took a seat across from him.

"Did you get my resignation letter?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"I hope you're not going to try and convince me to stay. I'm moving permanently to Cuba. I have friends in the government and I won't have any problems accessing my money. I'll never write like Hemingway, but that doesn't mean I can't live like Hemingway."

"On the contrary," I replied. "I'm here to congratulate you on your decision. I'm jealous. But jealousy isn't a bad thing, particularly when it results in positive change."

"I don't follow you."

"I'm shutting down The McHale Report as we know it. I'm closing the office. I will be 70 at the end of December and it's time to move in a new direction while I can still move. I need to be as light as possible. I am writing the ultimate Brownsville story in my memoir The Coronavirus Chronicles and I have neither the time nor the desire to record the daily Brownsville soap opera into the future. It's a bottomless pit."

"There will be no McHale Report?"

"I am keeping the name on the blog and I'm posting on Facebook, but as I mentioned in an earlier column, I'm more intrigued by the literary rather than the newsworthy. On the blog I'm going to published more photos that I will retrieve from the blog's archives and Facebook. In the past I have had as many hits when I had run photos as when I've posted several stories. I can choose ten or fifteen photos, write cutlines in the form of headlines and I'm done in 30 minutes. Many of the photos will have edgy headlines, so I won't risk them on Facebook. Let me give you an example that I could place on both. I find a photo of Erasmo Castro and write: STIJA POLL: HUMAN--18%!!! BEAST--82%!!! I could pen an infinite number of these that would amuse my public. They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I'll add six or seven more in the headline."

"That's it?"

"No. I'll publish most my literary pieces: poems, anecdotes, short stories and maybe create several more fictional genres. But I have had it with the daily grind. I have had it with the latest controversies at the city, the county, the school district, the college, the port and on and on. It's all white noise. It's all endless chattering. I'm bored. I don't want to waste any more time on these subjects. My photos will fill the void. I'm done maintaining a blog. I'm launching myself off a cliff in a swan dive and plunging into the bracing waters. I need to clear my head and Brownsville is a constant and annoying buzz in my brain. I desire a peaceful mind and these tempests in teapots turn my head into a boiling cauldron. I don't need it anymore. No más!"

Scott nodded his head. He took a sip of whiskey and savored it.

"Besides my far-fetched inspiration, what forced you to bring the moment to its crisis?"

"For starters, turning 70 is turning my head. I don't have time for any bullshit and this Brownsville blog has become bullshit. It has become meaningless to me. We both agree that Rush Limbaugh, though we may disagree with his conservative politics, is a voice that reaches millions. He is the master of the moment. I could make a small argument that on occasions I have been the master of the moment locally. But Rush is dying. When he passes, his voice will be a fading echo until it disappears into silence. There is a cheap thrill participating in the next showdown against the hated opposition, but when the dust settles, you can't help but recognize that you will soon be turning to dust and all you've been doing is chasing your tail telling tall tales that has had the benefit of producing your best prose, but you recognize that your writing is an empty exercise in erudite entertainment."

"If your futile endeavor produces phrases like erudite entertainment, it hasn't all been in vain."

"The story of Beowulf is about a man who believes that eternity rested in the following generations remembering his great deeds. There was no thought of an afterlife. I am not going to embarrass myself and declaim that I am capable of great deeds, but I will never achieve anything remarkable if I continue on my present path. I am proud of my Brownsville résumé as an educator, a coach and a writer among other accomplishments over the last 45 years on the border, but I need a peaceful state in order to explore creatively via the written word. Feeding the blog every day is worse than Sisyphus' punishment. I see myself in an old Westerns where a workman is constantly shoveling coal into the train's engine to keep it rolling down the tracks. I can't do it anymore."

"Have you informed the staff?"

"Some of them have informed me unofficially. Estanislao has been talking about living in Mexico City and now that he has found his D.F. darling, he will be departing soon. Jack wants to rent an apartment in downtown Seattle. He says the rain inspires him. Max is retiring to the Hill County. Marshall says his biggest mistake was stopping in Brownsville on his return from Mexico when his original destination was Miami. He shares my sentiments. It's now or never. Mort has decided that he will never discover his roots if he doesn't put down roots in Israel and Annie, as adventurous as ever, is heading to Paris.

"Heading to Paris? Isn't she afraid of COVID?"

"For a gal who takes pride in bragging that she has fucked approximately 100 guys without protection because a cat cumming in her cunt is her ultimate pleasure, COVID is hardly a threat to her intrepid nature."

"And the rest of the gang?"

"They have their lives here. Dr. Pangloss can't find enough hours caring for his patients and working shifts in the emergency room. Father Jesus has his flock in Cameron Park. The Baker Boys investigate for every major lawyer and Maclovio would be lost if he wasn't playing his role in the Brownsville drama. We're fortunate that we can all part with our health and an abiding respect for each other. We have fought the good fight, bro, and we haven't brought shame to ourselves."

"When are we riding off into the sunset?"

"We'll finish the elections and call it a wrap."

We had emptied the bottle, but sometimes men feel the need to get good and drunk. It's spiritual. Closure whets one's craving for an altered perspective. They walked down the street to The Library and ordered doubles. They wouldn't be behind the wheel tonight.

"urselves be lost if he wasn't 

THE AGONY OF DEFEAT

 With the exception of Biden possibly losing to Trump on Tuesday, I thought I had gotten over losing. I haven't. And maybe that's good. Last night I experienced a moment of normalcy during these times of COVID under those Friday night lights in Texas. The Veterans Memorial Chargers and Michael were opening conference place against the Porter Cowboys, one of several cross-town rivals in Brownsville, at the city's coliseum, Sams Stadium. My son Carlos and his girlfriend accompanied Claudia and me.

It was a defensive battle with Porter maintaining field position, but the Cowboys could only mount a field goal despite their dominance. Then halfway through the second quarter, the Veterans quarterback rolled left and launched a bomb that Michael snared streaking along the sidelines. He shook off the corner and went 80 yards for a touchdown. It was, believe it or not, one of the most thrilling moments of my life.

Both teams struggled in the second half, but with one minute left in the game, the Cowboys were on the Chargers' 22-yard-line facing fourth and ten after the middle-linebacker dropped an interception right in his hands. The Chargers blitzed and the Cowboy QB launched a desperation pass down the middle of the field. The receiver had it knocked away, but the defender was flagged for pass interference. Two plays later Porter scored to take a 10-7 leave.

Veterans, with 50 seconds remaining in the game, returned the kickoff to the 40 and with 15 seconds had the ball on their foes' 40. The coaches slotted Michael on the right side. He thinks of himself as a playmaker and his coaches appreciate his skills. They called his number. He ran a post, but it wasn't an aggressive pattern. The safety shadowed him from behind and blocked Michael from reaching the slightly overthrown ball. There was contact as the defender held his position, but it wasn't sufficient for a pass interference call. One more unsuccessful heave and the game came to an end.

Goddammit, we should have eked out a victory I lamented as I pounded my fist into the other palm of the other hand. I doubled-up on the Xanax, but I couldn't sleep. Michael is only a sophomore and it's a laudable achievement that he is playing a major role on the team, but in the most crucial situation he didn't meet the challenge.

"When the coaches designed a play especially for you, you have to get open by hook or by crook," I told him. "They were counting on you to rise to the occasion and you didn't. We may think of football as a game, but it isn't. It's black-and-white. It's all about winning and holding your helmets high in the air or slinking off the field as losers. You say your ankle was hurting from an earlier tackle. That is not an excuse. Everybody plays hurt.

"When you ran your post, you should have made a subtle feint to the outside and the cut back in order to established inside position so you could have given the quarterback an angle, but since you didn't, once he threw the ball, you allowed the defender to slow you down rather than you running over him to snare the ball."

"But I was running the pattern they called."

"You're aren't a robot on the field. You're most important responsibility is shaking the defender. Within your general instructions, you can ab-lib, you can improvise, but you have to get your butt open. The coaches put their hopes and confidence in you and you failed them. I wouldn't be reprimanding you if I thought you had given 110% percent, but you didn't. Your effort was half-assed because you weren't focused and obviously it didn't dawn on you the importance of this play."

It's like a newly found erection. The emotion still runs through my veins. After coaching varsity soccer for a decade, I moved to another school and coached both freshmen and junior varsity teams. The school went to the state finals three times, and won one, during my tenure as an able assistant. I had one excellent team after another and my knowledge of the game grew exponentially. In terms of my players, come hell or high water, I was going to put the best eleven on the field with five or six competent replacements. If it were a league game, I wanted to win. If it were a non-conference fray, I experimented, winning or losing meaningless because only a conference record counted in order to capture the league cup since there is no state playoffs for the underclassmen.

Keeping the best athletes on the field was not an easy proposition since Texas has the no pass/no play rule. An individual can have nineties in every class, but a 69 in one class and he is ineligible. I was constantly lobbying the teachers and I was generally successful, but this art of persuasion cost me more than a few six packs of beer and girl scout cookies. But it was constant and the pressure from pressuring the teachers took its toll on me because in the majority of cases the players wouldn't even meet the minimum requirements of submitting a notebook. I would lose a whole weekend of relaxation preoccupying myself about whether or not the teacher was going to change the grade on Monday.

"Soccer is supposed to be your god," I would snap at them after practice. "This is supposed to be the great passion in your lives. This is supposed to be the reason you breathe, yet you can't do your part in the classroom to keep eligible. Do you think I enjoy begging teachers for grades because you are too lazy to meet your responsibilities? But do you know the reason I do it? I want to win more than you guys want to win. You bow at the altar of soccer; I don't pray to that idol, but I have pride. There is going to come a day when I say enough of this shit."

The day eventually came.

The grades were released. My leading scorer had failed his geometry class. We were vying for the district championship the following week against the team with whom we were tied for first. I went to his teacher with my usual plea. I couldn't believe my ears when she told me, "Buy me a $50 Red Lobster gift certificate and I'll change his grade."

What a fucking bitch I thought, but she successfully extorted her $50. Her karma was a worse bitch, however, because she was undoubtedly a person of bad intentions. Shortly thereafter, her mother died of cancer, her father died of cirrhosis of the liver and her husband was arrested on sexual molestation charges. I didn't shed a tear. I could only hope for her sake that the shrimp had been good.

Game day arrived and the players slowly filed into the locker room. I kept tabs because there were stragglers who didn't arrive until the last minute. I would call their homes to make sure that they were on their way. I kept waiting for my leading scorer. I asked the players about him. They didn't know anything. I called his house. Nobody answered. I continued looking around me as we warmed up 15 minutes prior to the opening whistle. He never showed. I shook my head in disgust and frustration. This is it I told myself and at the end of the season--we did tie for the district championship--I submitted my resignation.

I have nothing but fond memories of those kids and days, but my enthusiasm has diminished dramatically. I watch games when I'm at a bar and I check out ESPN on the internet to stay abreast of the latest news and results in order to retain my manhood when discussing sports with other fellows, but I don't lose sleep over the teams that once held the key to my happiness. I can't help but chuckle as I observe myself 24 hours later still pissed over last night's outcome and Michael's failure to transcend the moment. But it's a good rush to feel passion.

But if Joe Biden drops the clinching touchdown in the end zone, I will quickly forget Michael's missed opportunity and move on to his next game. Moving on to the next four years with Trump calling the signals will rate the worst setback of my life. I will spend many sleepless nights that no amount of Xanax will assure me a temporary respite from Trump's blindsides. 

CHAMBERS BITES THE DUST

 BOOBY WITLESS-CERVEZAS: "Court of Criminal Appeals has denied John Chambers' final appeal. Chambers' uphill just got harder in part due to ineffective assistance of counsel. Any Republican running in Cameron County better have a good case and money to beat a Democrat. Nonetheless, it will be like pushing a boulder up a hill for a Republican to win, especially in a county I suspect is very anti-Trump, and rightfully so."

(EDITOR'S NOTE: After 14 felony convictions, 14 misdemeanors, fired as a policemen from one city and asked to stepped down from another according to an Indian Lake city official and accused of stalking women, one a 16-year-old teenager, there comes a time when a sheriff candidate might find himself on the other side of the bars. John Chambers, the Republican candidate for Cameron County Sheriff, lost his final appeal on the 14 misdemeanors and faces sentencing two days after the November 3 election. Witless-Cervezas, who leaves everyone else out to dry, has brought the controversial Chambers inside his humble abode from the rain. His motivations, a Democrat in the past who despises all Republicans, have defied logical explanations except Chambers has been spending hundreds of thousands of dollars on his campaign and there is a suggestion that Witless-Cervezas may have profited from Chambers' generosity. Witless-Cervezas has always advertised himself as Brownsville's unbought blogger, but even nuns eventually lose their virginity. Does Chambers have a chance in hell against Democratic nominee Eric Garza with the election three days away? His critics argue that Chambers didn't have a chance in hell three months ago. A gleeful Garza offered this response when informed about Chambers' losing clash with karma: "Today, justice has finally been served! John Chambers final appeal has been denied. His 14 charges, Tampering with Governmental Records, are punishable by up to a $4,000 fine and/or up to 1 year in jail. His sentencing is set for November 5, 2020. Cameron County deserves a sheriff that will not be on probation or worse, in jail, during his term. I continue to humbly ask for your vote. With your help we can achieve the change we need and the protection we deserve." This is a contest that is going in polar opposite directions. With all the Democratic numbers and machinery behind Garza and a circulating rumor that not even Donald Trump will be endorsing Chambers, the pundits are advising: Bet the house on Garza, particularly when the redneck Republican may be headed to the Big House.

AN ENDING INSPIRES A BEGINNING...

When will this war be over? the people lament in frustration. In my readings of the Civil War and WWI this was a constant cry from both sides. The death and destruction was non-ending and for many there was no hope that the end was in sight.

With the total officially eclipsing 230,000 deaths and more than nine million reported cases, and thousands of more deaths and millions of more cases predicted, when will this war end is a hollow cry. There is no light at the end of the tunnel as daily cases reach all-time highs, an anticipated 100,000 a day a dire reality in the near future. And we're only talking about the United States.

When Abraham Lincoln was president during the Civil War, he was pulling out his hair because he couldn't find a competent general to lead the Union troops. He relieved almost a half dozen generals of their duties before he settled on Ulysses Grant. "He's a drunk!" complained his advisors. "Then send a bottle of his favorite whiskey to all my other generals because that son-of-a-bitch fights," answered Lincoln who was a literary giant.

(For the record, those weren't Lincolns exact words, but they are similar. Perhaps I'll google the precise quotation, but as someone who mixes fact with fiction without a second thought, accuracy oftentimes isn't important to me.) 

We are at war and all our lives are at stake. We keep asking, "Where is the general who is going to lead us to victory? Where is the general who is going to vanquish this lethal and merciless foe?" It certainly isn't Trump. He talks the talk that is a bold-faced lie. Rather than walking the walk, he runs in the opposite direction. If he had been president instead of Lincoln, we in Texas would be living in the Confederate States of America.

As much as our fellow citizens are yearning for an end to the bloodshed, we writers, journalists, bloggers or sold-out hacks--our critics can label us with any description that pleases them--can't wait for November 3rd. Though there may be unresolved national and state results, the local elections come to an emphatic stop. The winners and losers will be nursing hangovers November 4th in celebration or lamentation, but it will be over.

I'm tired. For someone who is bored easily, this election coverage epitomizes a draining monotony, but I made commitments and I'm keeping my word until the polls permanently close. I've been running a marathon. With the finish line in sight, why wouldn't I culminate my efforts with a final sprint! And everything I write is subject matter for my inevitable masterpiece, The Coronavirus Chronicles. You can't have a mesmerizing masterpiece if you don't have an ending that is nothing less than memorable.

But my weariness owes its genesis to a number of other factors. These elections are the straw that broke the camel's back. I have all the articles I need to make my final statement about Brownsville. After 43 years of continual coverage of my adopted hometown, there will be nothing more I will have to say when I finish The Coronavirus Chronicles. It is time to hand the baton to others who will easily fill the void I leave. I feel that in the wake of chasing my tail for so many decades, I want to pursue an apparition into the darkening horizon.

I turned 20, then 30, then 40, then 50 and then 60 without experiencing any trauma, but there is an uneasiness invading my mental state about turning 70. I am no longer young. In Spanish parlance, I am officially a "ruco" and there's little I can do to alter that reality although a change in my lifestyle, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, might fool blind women into thinking that I'm "only" 65, maybe 60 although whenever I climb a bus, drivers never question if I'm a senior citizen when I pay half fare.

I am not going to surrender in meeting my responsibilities as a Brownsville citizen as long as I reside here and I will post on my blog and Facebook (more literary, less news worthy), but I'm retreating from engaging in battle after battle. There comes a point when you have to retire gracefully from the stage and pursue your own individual and unique visions. I may metamorphose into a modern Don Quijote dueling windmills. I will be content to sit on the patio and write about the mocking birds hopping from limb to limb before launching themselves into a kamikaze dive and attacking my dogs slinking around the backyard in dazed circles.

During the last half year, I have averaged eight hours diurnally pontificating about the elections from the presidency to the BISD school board. It has been a worthy endeavor because the objective of realizing The Coronavirus Chronicles is worth the commitment, but I'm exhausted physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I relish the bullshit, but it's time to flush the toilet.

November 4th will require another eight-hour day explaining the results, but the next day everything changes. I will bid adieu to the past and embrace the present and future. I will not abandon my writing. Au contraire, I intend to write more copiously. Editing The Coronavirus Chronicles will be a monumental task but an invigorating one. It will also require additional stories to fill in the gaps to better set the stage in the memoir. I will infinitely amuse myself piecing together this tome picking and choosing from the more than 700 pieces I will have penned as I complete my final product.

But there is a part of my life that requires unapologetic selfishness. As I have uttered many times, if I am happy, then those who rotate around me will feel the warmth of my sun. There are the basics: I've been hitting the weights regularly, but I need more cardio. I need to lose 25 pounds and put reduce my beer belly as well as lower my blood pressure and cholesterol numbers. 

There is my present COPD challenge. I am in the hands of a specialist. I am using a pair of inhalers as part of a two-prong strategy as well as ingesting an antibiotic to cure infections in my lungs. I have taken an addition blood test as well as further X-rays. I meet with the physician on election Tuesday. I'm hoping for multiple glad tidings: I'm on the road to a manageable recovery and Biden has triumphed. If I fail on both fronts, I will have to deal with the cards that I have been dealt. It's an inevitable consequence of life.

Besides the health concerns that resolved contribute to physical, mental, emotional and spiritual tranquility, I have to dedicate myself with greater enthusiasm to playing the guitar, improving my tennis game, mastering as much as possible Portuguese and French with a dash of Italian and Latin for ostentation without abandoning my Spanish readings, and more walking with an occasional quarter mile trot as an interval.

I have my family responsibilities, which bring me joy, but I have to delve into the mystery and mystique that is me and put all these insights and inspirations to paper. Or on the screen. I utilize both. The scary prospect about 70 is that in a decade I will be 80. Eighty is the end of all pretensions about who you are and what you soon will be. 

The elections will be over in four days. At their conclusion, I embark on a new beginning. In the meantime, I remain at ringside recording the final rounds as the showdowns turn into brawls. 

BIDEN

 As a former coach and a sports fanatic since the earliest of my memories, it has always been about the numbers: What inning? How much time? What was the final score?

Presently, I'm not following sports numbers except when it comes to my son Michael and his varsity football games at Veterans Memorial. Who won? comes first and what were his stats? comes second.

But that doesn't mean I'm suffering because I no longer have numbers in my life. Actually, the complete opposite is true: I'm sweating the numbers.

There are five days until the election. We Democrats need 270 electoral votes. We would like to get 350 because anything close Trump will contest and he has a 6-3 advantage in the Supreme Court.

The nine judges made George W. Bush president over Al Gore on a 5-4 vote. And who says that every vote doesn't count!

From Coronavirus there are approximately 230,000 deaths and nine million confirmed cases in the nation. Numbers are infinite and I could go on and on, especially if I delved into the Brownsville and Cameron County elections, but regardless of all results, there is only one result: Biden vs. Trump

All my candidates could win locally, but if Biden loses, I've lost. I could lose all the races locally, but if Biden wins, I've won.

Ni mas! Ni menos!

ELIZONDO DISGRACED THE UNIFORM

Maclovio O'Malley and Estanislao Contreras sat on the latter's back porch. They each kept a separate pipe as they stuffed the bowls with hydro from Austin. Estanislao had opened a bottle of wine and it was breathing.

Maclovio: Do you  think Carlos Elizondo or Eddie Garcia will win the BISD trustee seat?

Estanislao: It's real simple, bro. Pinche Carlos brought nothing but shame to the uniform while Eddie served the BPD for 32 years with distinction. Carlos is a classic loser.

Maclovio: What do you mean, 'mano?

Estanislao: Losers attract losers and in the end they pull down each other. Carlos has joined the Los Buitres slate headed by Erasmo Castro. Both were losers as board members, but losers have the strange complex that they aren't losers and the next time will be different."

Maclovio: And you don't think next Tuesday could be different?

Estanislao: Anything is possible, bro. That's the reason you put the teams on the field. You can never predict the outcome with certainty, but I believe that Carlos and Erasmo, as well as that cagapalo Virus, are going to get their asses kicked.

Maclovio: So you're putting your money on Eddie and Daniella?

Estanislao: They are another class of people. They won't embarrass our community and they will honestly serve. Los Buitres. like the vultures they are, just want to pick our bones. They are like Trump in that everything is negative. One of their favorite expressions to feed red meat to their few but rabid followers is that the superintendent is stupid. It's a description right out of Trump's playbook. The real stupid ones are the ignoramuses who haven't studied Carlos' ignominious record. They should go through Juan Montoya's archives on El Rrun Rrun and they would learn that Carlos is a cynical bastard who, again like Trump, only thinks of himself.

Maclovio: On what evidence are you basing your conclusion?

Estanislao: He tells the teachers he is going to help them. Bullshit. He didn't do anything during his three years on the board except take care of his wife and daughters' interest. He was a fireman who backstabbed his fellow firemen in order to become chief. He is facing felony charges at this very moment for stealing from the firemen. 

Maclovio: I heard he threatened your boss, Dr. G.F. McHale-Scully, for publishing critical articles about him in The McHale Report. Is that true?

Estanislao: I recall one incident when he started jawing with Doc in a Denney's parking lot. Doc stood there with his fists clinched waiting for Carlos to make the first move, but Carlos is the classic bully who when the shit his the fan is a coward. We all thought we were going to hear about the resurrection of Kid Lonas as Doc was called during his pugilistic career, but Carlos retreated to his corner and BISD Trustee Phil Cowen, who was standing between the two, awarded Doc a TKO victory.

Maclovio: And are you going to tell me that Doc pummeled Carlos the next day on the blog?

Estanislao: You know Doc's operating methods. For every one punch you throw, he is going to counter with five. 

Maclovio: I don't give a shit about Carlos, but I feel sorry for his family. His ambition only contribution to their humiliation.

Estanislao: Why should you give a shit? He doesn't give a shit about his family or he wouldn't thrust his ugly mug into our faces begging for power because he can't accept he is a nobody. But Brownsville is the Third World Capital of the United States and the cucarachas thrive, so a stink bug like Carlos will never admit that he is anything more than a gadfly whom no one takes seriously.

Maclovio: This is good shit, 'mano. How about being a gentleman and pouring me a glass of red?

Estanislao: You got it, bro.

BOOBY GOES BONKERS

 BOOBY WITLESS-CERVEZAS: "KRGV's lawyer is shutting down John Chambers' ad. The filth which is our courts and legal system never ceases to amaze me. When the facts came out, Chambers was stalking no one. He was doing surveillance on a minor arrested three times on drugs charges. Judge Janet Leal might want to look to Elia Cornejo-Lopez to see her future. She will not be tolerated. The hearing on the temporary injunction is at 3 p.m. If Chamber's lawyer fails to remove the case to federal court, then it is fair to say he has no idea what he is doing. Leal has no respect for the law or the First Amendment. The law is clear and she threw it to the wind. If Chambers' lawyer removes the case to federal court, the TRO will be voided and the bond paid over to Chambers. The truth about KRGV will come out. It is not a news station. It relies on the corruption of our courts to get what it wants." 

(EDITOR'S NOTE: Booby Witless-Cervezas, the publisher of The Brownsville Voice, doesn't make any sense even when we do our best at The McHale Reporter to edit his incoherent outbursts. For whatever reason, and it may be financial, Witless-Cervezas insists that Republican candidate "Chubby" John Chambers is the victim of a widespread conspiracy. Will Witless-Cervezas soon be arguing that Donald Trump is the victim of a China/Democratic conspiracy? In his ridiculous attempt to defend Chambers who may soon be doing time himself for multiple charges, Witless-Cervezas takes his usual shotgun approach and blasts KRGV, the justice system, State District Court Judge Janet Leal and even Chambers' own attorney without landing even a pellet. As we said: We don't understand this disbarred lawyer's motivation for insisting that Chambers is the victim other than Chambers is depositing a substantial amount of cash in this poor man's pockets. Witless-Cervezas can argue until he is blue, or in his case green, in the face. John Chambers, a Republican redneck who pays homage to Trump, wants to be sheriff of Cameron County. He was once convicted for 14 felonies. He is facing sentencing for 14 misdemeanors. According to extensive documentation and excellent reporting by /DP-M, the publisher of The Brownsville Republican, various women, including a 16-year-old girl, accused Chambers of stalking them. He was ultimately terminated by the Early Police Department in the wake of these complaints among a myriad of other grievances. Trouble and controversy have followed him wherever he has gone. Even The Brownsville Herald has taken him to the cleaners for his comportment. Besides Booby being looney, the verdict is incontrovertible: John Chambers is unfit to be sheriff of Cameron County.)

CHARLIE

 I'm still waiting for The Brownsville Times, that has been fair and balanced so far, to question Erasmo Castro on his sister's words that he was arrested in Mexico for fondling a young boy. She also claims he did it in the U.S., but the charges were dropped because his family intimidated the poor single mother who didn't have money to sue his fat ass. 

Erasmo Castro is an uneducated fool who dropped out of high school and left for Mexico. He fled because he also had been arrested three times in the late eighties and and early nineties, one being a felony for forgery and writing hot checks. He had six more arrests for embezzling and theft of monies. 

This guy can't help himself. He doesn't even have a GED. He claims that he went to Austin College and got a degree in religious studies while he lived in Austin, Texas, but the pendejo doesn't know that Austin College is in Sherman, Texas. 

It's lie after lie after lie. He took a page out of Trump's playbook and attacks others and discredits them to avoid his own indiscretions. Come on, Erasmo! Unblock me so we can have it out. You can lie and lie when I bring up all these things. Your audience is complicit because they won't even ask you about your sister Melissa and why she hates you. 

Everyone knows I don't do drugs, but you feel if you lie about that then people will believe you. I don't know Daniela Lopez-Valdez, but once I heard she was running against you, I quickly jumped on board. She has integrity. She isn't a liar. 

You make your followers believe you went to the FBI, but you are a fat liar. They won't even call you to testify because you don't know anything. You think you are important, but you are not. I believe every civilized voter will support Daniela because they know you are scum and can't be trusted around kids. 

You did tell your followers you took a picture of a young male and put hearts and likes, but you failed to tell them that this kid is a 15-year-old and was in a small towel exposing everything but his genitals. Come on, Erasmo! Tell the whole truth. That's why your colleagues on the BISD Board of Trustees voted unanimously to sanction you and block you from going to any BISD schools.

LAW DELIVERS GOODS

 Marshall Law, The McHale Report's expert on all police matters, ordered a bowl of pozole at Bertha's Cafe. He was dipping his spoon into the broth when he was interrupted by an attractive woman in her mid-thirties. He smiled.

"You don't me, but I know who you are," she said as an introduction. "I prefer our situation remain that way, but I have several questions that I know that you will answer honestly. Are you comfortable with that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is it true that sheriff candidate John Chambers was convicted for 14 felonies."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is it true that he is awaiting sentencing for 14 misdemeanors?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Is it true that women have accused him of stalking them?"

"Yes, ma'am.'

"Is it true that the mother of a 16-year-old teenager accused him of stalking her daughter?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is it true that he was fired subsequently from that police department?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"He is a Republican and a Trump supporter, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Does he believe he can grab women like Trump?"

"The evidence indicates that might be a possibility."

"Is he a redneck?"

"If he isn't, he could appear in a movie in the role of one?"

"Do you believe the FBI is investigating him for a $225,000 credit card payment for his campaign."

"I have no information regarding that matter, but the FBI does have an informant regarding Chambers should the agency decide to pursue the matter."

"Why would anyone vote for him?"

"Why would anyone vote for Donald Trump?"

"True. Thank-you for your time, Mr. Law, and excuse me for interrupting you, but I have had it with crooks who are disguising themselves as politicians. Prevecho."

"Thank-you, ma'am."  

MINERVA & DENISE

 EL RRUN RRUN: "It seems that Minerva Peña is attempting to conceal the sources of her campaign contributions. Peña received $250 from Thelma Banduch and $250 from Hiram Gutierrez. These two are attorneys in the Edinburg office of Purdue, Brandon, Fielder, Collins and Mott, a property tax collection law firm. Peña also reports a $1000 contribution from a Brandon, the same name as one of the partners in the tax collection firm. None of these people lives in Brownsville, but Peña indicates they do. Garza's campaign report shows a $1000 contribution from the same tax collection firm. Seems odd that a law firm would give such a large contribution to a school clerk. It seems that Peña and Garza are working together with Sylvia Atkinson to get donations from firms wanting to do business with BISD. Neither Peña nor Garza can do this without Atkinson's help. All this seems very shady. Voting for Peña and Garza is like voting to continue with the corruption and fraud the way Atkinson likes it. Think about this: Is this what we want for BISD and our children?"

(EDITOR'S NOTE: BISD Board of Trustees President Minerva Peña won't reveal her weight and school district candidate Denise Garza won't disclose her age. They can't be trusted. After 12 years, Peña, besides being an embarrassment at every meaning, needs to go. Her comadre system puts her scalawags ahead of the students. Garza brings nothing to the table except a licked plate and a empty glass. While Peña was apparently clipping Dr. Sylvia Atkinson for a $2000 donation in exchange for the Christian's vote, Garza can't wait as an uneducated clerk yearning for the good life for the vendors to place a juicy steak on her plate and filled her glass with the finest wine. Two negatives don't make a positive. Peña and Garza are two steps back. At The McHale Report we are endorsing "Coach" Joe Rodriguez against the daffy Peña for his experience and Frankie Olivo against the dullard Garza for his education. They are at a minimum one step forward.) 

THE WHOLE

 I am finishing the first draft of The Coronavirus Chronicles. It has all the makings of a Tolstoy tome with a Faulkner flair. In order to edit this slam-dump masterpiece, I need to escape Brownsville for a foreign country and rent an apartment in a colonial setting with a balcony and a view of the narrow streets. With COVID limiting my options, I originally planned to go to Coimbra, Portugal, but Western Europe won't allow Americans in their countries.

COVID is also surging throughout Latin America, but the numbers are low in Uruguay. With legalized marijuana and tranquility a characteristic of its people, I'm considering moving to Montevideo the first of the year. Though I have my retirement and my savings, I need contributions to my cause. Then I read about the financing of Pink Ape's Rodrigo Moreno's film The Whole. Noted El Rrun Rrun Publisher Juan Montoya about the undertaking: 

"The sale and distribution of the film to Netflix would bring a hefty return ($750,000) to be shared by five investors. Moreno said that the investors were Brownsville Mayor Trey Mendez, $20,000, former Cameron County Judge and Texas Secretary of State Carlos Cascos, $15,000, BISD Trustee Dr. Sylvia Atkinson $30,000, Andy Vera, $5,000, and Moreno, $50,000."

I need $100,000. The Coronavirus Chronicles will easily gross $5 million. Those who lend money to complete this project, I will double their investments. Since Dr. Sylvia Atkinson has serious legal problems and Rodrigo Moreno is trying to make ends meet as he endeavors to finish his movie, I know I can't count on those two, but Mendez, Cascos and Vera have deep pockets and there is nothing like betting the house on a sure thing. 

I will be communicating with them shortly. I'm excited.

BOOBY EJACULATES

 BOOBY WITLESS-CERVEZAS: "No journalist in his right mind would post the name of a minor in a police report. (EDITOR'S NOTE: This is a blatant falsehood, but Booby has never allowed the truth to distract him when he has that sexual urge to go ballistic and ejaculate nonsense.) But that is exactly what Duardo, the publisher of The Brownsville Republic, did. It violates every known rule of journalistic ethics. He took Eric Garza's opposition research on John Chambers and just published it as truth as if allegations are ever proof of anything. Chambers is very accessible. Garza is not. Duardo pushes this false narrative of stalking. Duardo makes real journalist report claims without verification and giving the accused a voice. Duardo not knowing shit about journalism or the law sends me a demand letter I think was related to Chambers concerning confusion over an arrest warrant.  Unfortunately, until they get you to the station, some people are arrested on mistaken identity. There is no case. There is no violation of the law. I would imagine the man's attorney charged him a couple of thousand for a letter he knew would go nowhere.  But Duardo wants me to push Garza's opposition research on the Brownsville Voice. This is the real story: Garza accused Chambers of stalking a three-time arrested minor on drug charges. It is call surveillance, Duardo, and it is done every day. It should shock no one Garza is running cover for someone who was arrested three times on drug charges and calls surveillance on her stalking. Duardo is a failed journalist for a reason. So now Duardo is having one of his childish fits because Chambers will not talk to him. Chambers has seen his hack work and does not work with hacks. Man up, Duardo and admit you messed by not contacting Chambers before you went with the story. No real journalist accepts opposition research. But Duardo was never a real journalist; hence, he accepted the opposition research and never bothered to speak with Chambers before going with it. Now he cries like a baby because Chambers does not trust him."

(EDITOR'S NOTE: And we thought Donald Trump was desperate! John Chambers is Donald Trump's evil face in Cameron County. Running for Cameron County Sheriff as a Republican and facing a tough challenge in Democrat Eric Garza, the redneck is turning to Booby Witless-Cervezas, the publisher of El Brownsville Void, to counter the negative press arising from his gross lack of professionalism during his law enforcement career. Is this Chambers' demand for a return on an investment? How did Booby pay for his recent trip to San Diego, Califas when he is incessantly lamenting about his financial woes? At The McHale Report we won't begin with the blogger's diatribe. We will begin with Chambers since he is the candidate and Witless-Cervezas is his cheerleader. Chambers has a record that is worse than the criminals he will supervise if he triumphs. For starters, he looks cute in pink, a color his detractors suggest he will be donning once again in the near future. He has been convicted of 14 felonies in the past. He is presently awaiting sentencing on 14 misdemeanors. He was terminated in Early, Texas as a police officer based on multiple accusations, which included the stalking of women in general and the stalking of a 16-year-old girl in particular. /DP-M, the publisher of The Brownsville Republic, has based Chambers penchant for passionate but unwanted overtures toward females on documents from the Early Police Department that we possesses at The McHale Report. Witless-Cervezas claims that /DP-M is not a real journalist. This is just one of many lies that the bullying blogger is fostering in the above commentary. /DP-M had a distinguished 30-year career in journalism and wrote for some of the most illustrious newspapers in the nation. When he presents the facts about Chambers' alleged lack of professionalism, he is basing his facts on Early Police Department reports. "The reason why more and more of the major networks are hiring lawyers as journalist is because we understand evidence," bellows beer-bellied Booby with the body of a bowling ball and the head of a cue ball. We???!!! You were a lawyer, Booby, but the State of Texas disbarred your sorry ass because you brayed like a donkey in the courts. And you have never been a journalist--paper routes don't count--because you can't write. Why are you prostrating yourself at the feet of Chambers whom /DP-M asserts--based on the overwhelming evidence--is unfit for sheriff, an opinion which we at The McHale Report share with our longtime ally and friend? Why are you insinuating that Juan Montoya--the award-winning publisher of El Rrun Rrun--is on Chambers' payroll? Montoya is a Chicano in the spirit of Cesar Chavez and Juan Cortina and he would never sully his liberal reputation associating himself with a Republican renegade? There are scores of other questions we could pose, but we've wasted our time on Witless-Cervezas too many times in the past (Everybody knows he's a nut!) and we are pressed for time scrutinizing the documents regarding Chambers' checkered background. And we will be printing the relevant material so our readers can make an informed decision when voting. On a side note, Witless-Cervezas, hoping to shift the focus the attention on the sinless Garza and away from the sinner Chambers, is pushing this ludicrous narrative that Garza is protecting one of Chambers' victims the bloviating blogger asseverates is a drug dealer. As a judge might ask: "Where is the evidence, Mr. Disbarred Lawyer?"

TRUMP? NO!

I went for lunch after the noon crowd had split. I joined "Delta" Dave Handelman. We ordered a pound of fajitas. The meal came with chips, frijoles a la charra and tortillas. Dave ordered a Tecate, but it was too early in the day for me to drink. I wanted to hit the weights in the afternoon and play tennis with Estanislao in the evening. The first significant norther--temperatures predicted to drop 20 degrees and linger for several days--was blowing into Brownsville and it was gathering steam. A cold front gathering steam? I thought to myself. A better metaphor might inspire me later. Perfection is a difficult goal to achieve.

"One week from today and we'll know," said Dave. "How does it look to you?"

"After Clinton's defeat, it's a cliffhanger. And if we suffer another defeat, it will be a heartbreaker. You and I agree that we know nothing, but we may be outnumbered by the ignoramuses who believe they know something."

"But the numbers are trending in our favor and Biden owns a huge lead in the electoral college. There are at least a dozen states up for grabs and Biden is leading in everyone except for a couple and in those he is only trailing by a few points. I calculate that if he wins four of these twelve, he is the next president."

"I don't disagree with your numbers and I am cautiously optimistic, but there is so much at stake that you can't help but be paranoid. The consequences of a loss will plunge this country into chaos with the pandemic gaining strength as it sweeps the country once again. Trump is holding these outrageous rallies in which wearing masks and maintaining social distancing is considered an insult by the president. Trump has committed his strategy to Darwin's survival of the fittest that in his scientific mind will evolve into a herd immunity. If a million people have to die, Trump is willing to pay that price with our lives. We can't fully enjoy this meal because COVID could ambush us anywhere and at anytime. He has a rich man's mentality. I wouldn't be surprised if he could trace his heritage back to Maria Antoinette. He wouldn't think twice about snarling as we struggled for our health and with employment disappearing, 'Let them eat cake!'"

"Do you believe that if Trump loses that he will resort to the courts to reverse the result?"

"He will do anything to retain power. As a person, a politician and a plutocrat, he has no moral compass. He must triumph at all costs. He was raised a pampered child and the Republicans have pampered him as president. I usually say if you win by one point or 50 points it doesn't make a difference, but I'm praying for a significant victory in the electoral college that even the most reactionary Republicans won't dare defend if he resorts to extreme tactics to retain power."

"Why are people so stupid when it comes to national politics?"

"Because they are as stupid when it comes to local politics. Can you imagine Erasmo Castro and Carlos Elizondo on the school board? Can you imagine John Chambers as sheriff? When the authorities arrested them for their various felonies and misdemeanors, they should have thrown away the keys once these three were in their cells. They, like Trump, are nothing but agents of chaos. Their idea of making things better is by making things worse. In Brownsville we are known as the Third World Capital of the United States. Leadership isn't following misguided madmen off cliffs. Leadership isn't refusing to take responsibility for 225,000 deaths with thousands more to follow as the cases surpass all-time highs. We've had an easy life, partner. We let all the poor whites, blacks and browns fight and die for us in Vietnam while we pursued literature degrees and drank, smoked and fucked to our heart's content. We've been cruising our entire lives. We know history. Life isn't supposed to be easy. And now we know. Will we ever know normal again when by merely leaving our homes we are risking our lives?"

"Take it a step further. Whenever our wives and children return home from an errand or an outing, we are at the mercy of dwindling odds. And god have mercy on our souls if we dare allow someone other than a family member into our houses. But we haven't surrendered completely, have we? Texas football still reigns, doesn't it? How did Michael do in his last game?"

"They won, 14-13, and Michael was the leading receiver. He played well. I feel so sorry for our youth. They deserve normal lives, but I'm sure Jewish mothers and fathers felt the same way as their families were uprooted and condemned to death in concentration camps. Everything is relative. I don't want Michael deprived of his football season, but then I think about all the families who have been deprived of 225,000 loved ones and I have to reprimand myself for my selfishness. We have survived the plague unscathed thus far although if I had to bet, I would wager that Biden has more of a chance of winning than us escaping COVID. Trump owes us a pound of flesh and we must collect all 250 pounds from that fat pig. Karma is a bitch and Trump is a bastard. I wish I were St. Peter when that motherfucker came knocking. He would receive an immediate one-way ticket to hell. Since I'm not manning the pearly gates, I can only hope that we can give this piece of shit a one-way ticket out of Washington D.C."

"Do you think the Dodgers will clinch the World Series tonight?" asked Dave.

"I could care less, compadre. There is only one game in town and that's the presidential showdown next Tuesday. We have to win. Defeat is a death sentence."

ERASMO INSULTS DANIELLA

 Erasmo Castro, a man who could be confused with a mongrel, has no qualms about insulting Cameron County Commissioner Joey Lopez's daughter, Daniella Lopez-Valdez. He thinks his affronts directed toward the successful businesswoman will inspire his ignorant followers to come to the polls in record numbers, thus paving the way to a victory against Lopez-Valdez and a seat on the Brownsville Independent School District Board of Trustees.

This self-proclaimed Christian preacher with the mark of Cain calls her a "dog" and accuses her of being a puppet of the special interests. Like Donald Trump, he specializes in gutter politics. He has taken to the internet to berate her dignity at every turn. The county commissioner has wisely advised his daughter that they are not going to wallow in the mire with Castro.

And they haven't. While Castro calls the superintendent stupid and the trustees corrupt, Lopez-Valdez has run a positive campaign in which she lauds the district's successes and recognizes its challenges. Articulate and educated, the beauty has comported herself honorably while the beast can't control his wild rantings and ravings.

But to call this lady a "dog" and believe there will be no repercussions for his vitriol is indicative of an individual who realizes that he is losing the election and, as a result, he is losing his mind. 

But there is only so much a father can take, particularly when his wife and his three daughters epitomize everything a man would desire in a family. As a veteran politician, however, he keeps his cool and tells his daughter that they aren't going to exploit their adversary's despicable performance as a BISD trustee. Of course, they wouldn't be telling anyone in Brownsville anything they didn't already know about this puerile pigmy who isn't quite the big man he thinks he is. The truth? He is a pathetic bully.

Joey hugs his daughter and comforts her with these words, "There's only one more week, honey. We are respected in the community and we're not going to do anything that would tarnish our family's reputation. We are not going to demean ourselves by engaging in the same behavior."

Lopez High School is named after a family matriarch. Daniella is the next generation embracing the opportunity to serve her community. She has all the qualities to represent the BISD well, but when you deal with a mean-spirited individual like Castro, you have to know before hand that he wouldn't think twice about condemning God to hell if he felt it was in his best interests.

"El Queso" had his chance and blew it. His outrageous comportment forced the board to prohibit him from stepping on any of the district's campuses and he finally had to resign after the police jailed him for being publicly intoxicated.

And he has the audacity to cast the first stone when he lives in a house of glass. We would call him a dog, but we don't want to defame man's best friend. Instead, we will just call him an ass. Has there ever been a Brownsville politician so crass?

BOOBY DEFENDS CHAMBERS

 "Juan!" shrieked Booby Witless-Cervezas, the publisher of El Brownsville Void. "I verified John Chambers side of 2002 story. He arrested the girl three times on drug charges. She was being monitored to make sure she was not distributing in the school or to other teenagers. The document thump posted is questionable. It was prepared by a cousin who was an officer. Juan, we both know no police department would release the name of a minor. So basically Eric is defending a female minor arrested three times on drug charges."

Witless-Cervezas has never defended anyone in his life. He has earned his reputation as a rabid, crazed mongrel that never ceases attacking. But he has suddenly changed. He no longer calls himself the unbought blogger. 

In his last campaign report Republican candidate John Chambers reported that he had paid Rodrigo Moreno, the owner of Pink Ape, $225,000. Did Moreno funnel some of that money to Witless-Cervezas because presently he is only writing positively about the good ol' boy Chambers while he rips the Democratic nominee Eric Garza? 

Nobody has exposed Chambers' dastardly past more thoroughly than /DP-M, the publisher of The Brownsville Republic. Based on documents that we also have at The McHale Report, /DP-M posted that Chambers had been accused of stalking women in general and a 16-year-old girl in particular. 

Giving /DP-M the peculiar name of "thump" after the monikers with which he had previously baptized him hadn't stuck, Witless-Cervevas countered, "The document thump posed is questionable." There is nothing questionable about the documents. 

In fact, there is nothing questionable about the approximate 20 documents that detail Chambers' sordid character. His unprofessional actions led to his termination at the Early Police Department. Demonstrating that he has sold his soul to this Republican redneck, Witless-Cervezas scribbles incoherently, "Eric is defending a female minor arrested three times on drug charges." 

And we thought only Trump made up facts. No publication has ever mentioned Garza's name in connection with Chambers' grotesque behavior. And why is he pleading with Juan whom he has always called a drunk among score of other epithets? Are he and Montoya in cahoots? Is Brownsville's most influential blogger also accepting money from the Chambers' camp? 

/DP-M, in his usual fashion, was quick to retort. This is his response to Witless-Cervezas about the veracity of his reporting regarding Chambers and his crass comportment as a law officer: 

The documentation of numerous on-the-job missteps is official, the documents we offered are real, and then there was this: When we reached him for comment, Cameron County Sheriff’s candidate John Chambers hung up the phone on us (see our previous stories).

In itself, his hesitancy was not a Big Deal.

We at The Republic had decided not to endorse his candidacy (nor that of his opponent Eric Garza) because we felt a looksee at his background was enough to see him as unqualified to lead such a large department.

Chambers does have law enforcement experience, but all of it is in small town settings. He has NOT WORKED for sophisticated police departments in San Antonio, Austin or Dallas. It’s been little Early, Texas (near Brownwood) and little Gruver, way up in the Texas Panhandle near the Oklahoma border. Closer to home, he was police chief of tiny Indian Lake, until he wasn’t. A good account at that episode can be found on Juan Montoya’s blog. Problems and trouble chased him nearly everywhere he went. Chambers did not want to discuss any of it, telling us tersely us to go vote for the other guy if that’s who we wanted.

A few of those problems made it into stories we have already published.

There is much more, but we hesitated in blowing them up into a full-fledged series for two reasons: The incidents chronicled in the material we received from a source who would not tell us who she represented were from the years 2002 and 2003. That, to us, seemed too-long ago. Perhaps more important for county voters to review would have been more recent episodes of bad law enforcement on his part. The second reason was that we felt our early writings about Chambers and his campaign had already defined him as a bad choice for sheriff.

Subsequent to all of this, we E-mailed the entire trove of material to Brownsville bloggers Juan Montoya (an educated Journalist) and Robert Wightman-Cervantes, the latter acknowledging receipt of the material today, after we noticed he had commented on Montoya’s blog questioning the newsworthiness of the documents.

They are newsworthy. There is no question here about that. Political candidates are open books, from birth to Election Day and, for some, beyond that.

Montoya did not reply; Wightman wrote back saying, “No journalist would find this (material) newsworthy.” That’s his opinion and who are we to quarrel with his idea of anything being newsworthy. We could, but we sorta know him by now. Wightman is not a Journalist, by training or by desire. His bent is to argue, to judge, to quickly convict, perhaps because of his legal background.

Chambers knows what sort of troubles he had earlier in his career. He even went on record with some obscure news outlets that he welcomed all inquiries from the press. He hung up the phone on us, after we asked him directly about the incident involving a 16-year-old girl in Early that his own police department logged as a “stalking” case, this, to be fair, after her mother alleged that’s what Chambers was doing.

The material we sent over to Bloggers Montoya and Wightman was not for discussion on our part. We’d made our decision to write-off Chambers with enough stories to offer the info to county voters, who ultimately will be the ones to decide whether he is worthy or not.

We simply thought that other eyes on the material might yield other reporting angles, or perhaps even an unfolding of every incident contained in the material. We were not looking for blogger support or for a definition of whether the material is newsworthy or not.

It most definitely is…if only because every page of documents goes to his police work, his behavior while employed by the department and on the job – something voters might wish to use when deciding which way to go on candidates.

There is a document or two in which Chambers says he is being ostracized by other officers, his colleagues, and he does blame some of the accusations on those fellow officers. But there is so much more, like his then-wife being accused of having multiple affairs with inmates at an incarceration unit where she worked.

That is neither here nor there as it relates to his candidacy.

But it is where he comes from, his law enforcement past, in other words, as he now wishes to lead a sheriff’s office 100-times the size of any other department he has been ever elected or hired to lead.

We say that is something to consider…