Years ago I had a Guatemalan colleague who found the Frito Bandito — you know, the cartoon character who used to advertise Fritos corn chips in the bad old days, and who has long since been retired as offensive to Hispanics and banditti — hilarious. “Ay, ay, ay, ay,” he used to sing, and then — translating the name — “I am the Fried Robber!”
Ever wonder what happened to the old Fried Robber after he was hounded out of the banditry business by the National Mexican American Anti-Defamation Committee? Well, I’m happy to report that he has cleaned up his act, learned an honest trade, and set up shop in Taiwan, where he is now known as the . . .
4 comments:
This made me leff. Rilly, rilly hart.
When I lived in Japan, I was forever delighted by the oddball English phrases I would see on businesses and tshirts. At that time, it was very chic for young Japanese to use such slogans and logos. "Happy Good Cat Cafe" and things like that.
At the border of North Carolina and South Carolina, there's a big tourist trap called South of the Border. I won't even attempt to describe it beyond saying that it looks like the birthplace shrine of the Frito Bandito. Thirty or forty years ago, when you approached the NC/SC border in I-95, you would see big, garish billboards for this place every mile. They were a lot of fun to read, with their groan-inducing puns and bad jokes...almost all of them at the expense of Mexicans. The billboards featured a bandito-esque character (sans pistolos) who was usually taking a nap under his sombrero, and there were usually a couple of flies buzzing lazily about him. You can imagine the housecleaning that's been done on THAT little icon in recent years. Ah, but fond memories of those billboards linger in my mind. Interestingly, the last time I crossed the border at that spot, a Suzy Bogguss song called "Souveniers" was playing on my radio. To this day, when I hear that song, I think of that lazy Mexican at South of the Border.
I actually remember that place, S.K.! (My mother’s side of the family is from Carolina.) Has old Pedro gone legit, too, and joined the ranks of fried craftsmen?
Today I experienced one of those weird occasions when my students seem to subconsciously pick up on whatever improbable thing I’ve been thinking of. A girl who usually has excellent English made the very uncharacteristic error of writing “fried boy” for “boyfriend.”
"Fried boy." I like it.
Young man, what do you want to be when you grow up?
Well, sir, I think I'd like to be a fried boy. I hear there's money in it...
You're a man after my own heart, S.K.
Post a Comment