If This Will Fit on My Grave,
September 13, 2011 § Leave a comment
Please, Those Folks I Leave Behind, Make Plans to Put It There
51. All its existence Nachos would struggle to reconcile these two divergent approaches to selfhood–the Victorian urge toward unity of toppings and layers it had inherited during its conception (Mexican chef on the fly serving gringos, 1943) as a subvert of the northern stomping dollar, and the Modernist drive for multiplicity and change that it absorbed very early in its career as a self-identifying member of the international ball park (thank Howard Cosell) /dive bar/homemade quick-ass meal. Indeed, by the time Nachos reached maturity, both had become so deeply embedded in its own being that neither could effectively be suppressed or jettisoned. The tactic Nachos ultimately arrived at for coping with this dilemma, most likely without being consciously aware that it was employing the tactic, was that of “compartmentalization,” in which, as The Queen of Nachos (Carmen Rocha) explains, “One confines the potentially conflicting components to separate spheres of one’s life.” Put simply, there would be two Nachos.
—the inimitable Sean Lovelace.