Last Friday night, I found myself in Rosarito. Since I’m past the age of getting treated to a spring break every year, I totally forgot that end of March/beginning of April is vacation time. I was shocked to see the poor place — which, 90 percent of the year, is a quiet Mexican beach town — turned into a gigantic drunk tank.
Poor Rosarito was freakin’ nuts. It’s sad and embarrassing for me to see the hoards of American kids treating Rosarito like an amusement park where anything goes. They piss on the streets, puke indoors, try to have sex with anything that moves and walk around with open bottles of alcohol because they think they can just pass a cop a $20 and get away with it. Truth is, most of the time they can just pass a $20 and get away with it. Un ciclo viscoso, no?
Anyway, I wasn’t there to listen to Snoop Dog at deafening levels and get tequila poured down my throat. I was there for an art show by my friend Memho Sepulveda and something called Noche Bohemia, an event held the last Friday of every month in front of CEMAC.
As if the ignorance of spring break wasn’t enough to make me feel old, the crowd of painstakingly hip young kids gathered at CEMAC made me feel ancient. Kids in Mexico these days are ridiculously hip and, if you ask the older Mexicans, hilariously emo. They wear skinny jeans, hide their faces behind their hair, worship Morrissey, skateboard if they can and aren’t afraid to wear huge sunglasses at night.
Some of the kids, though, are actually genuinely cool. Just look at those DJs above. What are they, 10 or 11? The music they were playing wasn’t bad at all, and look at how cute they are. Those three boys are headed toward a lifetime of coolness. If only the drunk American kiddos could stop drinking long enough to find a cool hobby.