Hot tamales and the boy in green
By Ted Holteen

A few years back, American beer companies faced a quandary: How to fill the binge-drinking void between St. Patrick's Day and Memorial Day? The folks at Hallmark had long ago foiled their plans for co-option, using blue laws to shield their new holiday from the unwashed masses who didn't buy cards and probably didn't have mothers anyway. And so our heroes were forced to look elsewhere. Canada? It's been a long time since anyone up there needed a new excuse to drink beer. Holocaust Remembrance Day? Move on. What about South of the Border? Now they were onto something. Here's how it probably went at Pete Coors' house:

PETE: What's this cinco-dee-may-oh thing I keep seeing commercials for?

LACKEY 1: As I hear it, it's when the Mexicans defeated the French at The Battle of Puebla in 1862, but no one noticed because we were fighting the Civil War and had already beaten the Mexicans in a war a decade earlier. Why?

PETE: How can we cash in on it? They were talking about having a party with beer and Mexican food and everything, but they weren't drinking my beer. And what the hell is Corona anyway?

LACKEY 2: It's beer made in Mexico. Listen, if you're really worried about losing out on that crowd, we could just buy the company

Pete should have listened to Lackey #2, but such is the wisdom of Pete Coors. If so, Coors would now own all of the beer in North America, rather than just his own and Molson, which has lost a lot of luster in the absence of a hockey season. Instead, Anheuser-Busch stepped in and left Pete holding his tamale along with the fastest sinking stock this side of Nutrasystem. (A-B also owns St. Pauli Girl, which is why you may have noticed that Oktoberfest also has approached holiday status in recent years.) And so we celebrate an obscure battle with little historical significance outside of Puebla, Mexico. Hell, it's not even celebrated in every state in Mexico. By the way, Cinco de Mayo is NOT Mexican Independence Day - that's on Sept. 16, when Mexico actually became independent from Spain in 1821. The May 5 French invasion was really no more than a mob hit, as Mexico was heavily indebted to several countries after losing wars for the previous 50-odd years. Makes for good reading, but we should probably have left the holiday to the good people of Puebla.

Regular readers of this column have surely gotten the idea that I'm not a fan of holidays, regardless of their origin. The same mentality that leads seventh-generation Denverites to wear shamrocks in March fosters an acceptance for Irish kids in Boston or frat boys in Havasu to drink like it was their own money they had stiffed the French for. Nevertheless, my position dictates my presence at Carvers Cinco de Mayo celebration. That's happening today, May 5 (duh), and the "No outside food or drink" policy present at most restaurants that strive to stay in business will be temporarily suspended to allow for patrons to sample delicious tamales from Cocina Linda. To be accurate, some will sample, others will gorge. While you're there, ask Linda how to pronounce "tamale(s)." For their part, Carver's will brew up something called Cerveza Real, which I'm guessing will be a more authentic Mexican brew than the Bud in a clear bottle that most gringos will be swilling. And if you just can't resist, go ahead and ruin your perfectly good beer by throwing a lime in it. The Carvers Fiesta is a KSUT fund-raiser, with the great Kenny B of Global Groove fame spinning the hits of the season - yes, he's got Menudo and Gerardo. Me? I'll be the Swede in the sombrero cranking J-Lo on my Ipod. It starts right around siesta time (I think), which for my purposes is 3:30 in the afternoon.

Transition now from drunken revelry to a theater filled with children. Got it? I've lauded the merits of the Durango High School Theater department several times in the past, a feat made more challenging when one considers that I've never set foot in the place. Single adult males plus unsupervised children is an equation I never intend to solve and it's probably for the best that I avoid such situations altogether. But trust me when I say, go and enjoy the DHS production of Peter Pan this and next weekend. More than 80 students, mostly underclassmen, have put a lot of time and energy into the production, and a few friendly faces go a long way for young thespians otherwise terrified out of their skins. I've been told these things sell out almost instantly, but there is a waiting list, and if you dawdle it'll be over quicker than a wink of Sandy Duncan's glass eye. I've been told that there won't be any flight, like some productions, but you can still expect higher quality than you may be used to from a student production. After all, this is Durango, not Greenbow, Alabama. The PTA's got Dreamworks-like money for these things. Show times are 7 p.m. on Friday and Saturday, and again next Friday through Sunday, the 12th through the 14th.

Normally I would've used more than a few words this week to give you my cynical theories on the evils of Mother's Day and how it gestates feelings of guilt and inferiority in children who come up short in comparison to overcompensating parental sycophants. But having lost my mom in the last year, I've also lost most of that cynicism. Just tell Mom you love her, and if you're lucky enough to do so, give her a big hug, too. I would still refrain from inane gifts and cards - my mom got by without them for 37 years, and believe it or not she still loved me right up to the end. Amazing.

Is this town as dead as it seems or are you just ignoring me? ted@ksut.org . I wonder if Mexico ever paid the French back?