opinion

Growing up, my sisters and I called our grandfather Guelo and he referred to us as his little cabronas. It always made me smile. Though we were very close, when he died two years ago, I had to content myself with attending his wake in Detroit. Only a handful of relatives made the journey for his funeral and burial in Cerralvo, a small municipality...

Even though the 2012 Republican presidential nominee has not be chosen, Washington, D.C., where I’ve lived for more than five years, is buzzing with this year’s “Veepstakes” parlor game. This is where “insiders,” political big wigs and regular friends make predictions in political columns, out at dinner, or on Facebook about who will be named frontrunner...