Steve Crosno Blog

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Things were kind of slow in the city back in the early 90s to the point that crime was down to zero. Since the El Paso Police department had so much extra time on their hands they did this music video.

El Paso Times is reporting http://elpasotimes.typepad.com/mediabuzz/

Steve Crosno Middle School?

A movement is currently afoot to convince El Paso Independent School trustees to name Cordova Middle Crosno after Steve Crosno. The school’s namesake, former high school coach Carlos Cordova, asked the school board two weeks ago to remove his name from the school following his indictment on public corruption charges. Crosno, the legendary El Paso radio personality who kept three generations of El Pasoans entertained with his unique brand of humor and musical tastes, died in August, 2006. “Maybe this is the best way to pay homage to Crosno,” said KTEP-FM Operations Manager Dennis Woo. Woo is part of a group of radio professionals in El Paso who have launched an effort to have the school named after Crosno. In a column I wrote in the El Paso Times shortly after Crosno’s death, I pointed out that most people - including Crosno himself - never fully grasped the larger signficance of his on-air presence. Long before marketing experts recognized the importance of the Hispanic market, Crosno was already catering his radio programs to the rapidly-growing Mexican-American audience. His “Crosno Hop” TV dance program was a huge hit in El Paso and Las Cruces in the 1960’s and 1970s. Beyond that, he very directly influenced a crop of young and Crosno4webaspiring Hispanic media professionals who had never before seen nor heard someone on the radio or TV speak their language. On October 27, Crosno was inducted into the Texas Radio Hall of Fame. But is it likely that EPISD trustees will even remotely consider the notion of a Steve Crosno Middle School? “Several organizations are already expressing interest in having the school named for someone,” said EPISD spokesman Louie Villalobos. Among the names being heard are El Paso Astronaut Danny Olivas and famed Bowie High School Coach Nemo Herrera. Villalobos said the school board will begin the process of changing the school’s name during their December 12th meeting.

Chicken fat and booze. That was my favorite line when Steve Crosno was a powerhouse on El Paso radio, and he used it often in his efforts to make us laugh. For example, someone would ask: “What’s for lunch at El Paso Tech?” The response was Crosno’s clip: “Chicken Fat and Booze.” And, boy, I cracked up.

He would get into arguments with children, who would often come out on top by putting Crosno down. For example, a little girl’s voice would say: “Steve Crosno is so dumb.” Another voice would chime in: “How dumb is he?” The response would be something like: “Well, he thinks that a Quarterback is a refund.” Or words to that effect. You know, the jokes were corny, but the way Steve said them, they became hilarious.

Steve Crosno was my favorite D.J. He had to be. There was nobody else. Not even Chicano DJs – of which there weren’t that many in 1950s-1960s El Paso — brought tunes to our hearts that impacted on us as Chicanos. Nobody else loved and cared for music produced by Chicanos more than Crosno. And he wasn’t afraid to play the music which was frowned upon by Anglo elders, and, yes, some Chicano elders as well.

Crosno helped Little Joe Hernandez, he helped Sunny Ozuna, and he helped many local Chicano musicians who were just then getting into American rock and roll. He played the tunes for us, but he wanted to make sure that everyone knew that Chicanos were talented too. Even though not too many people believed that our style of music was valid, Crosno did.

He loved Mexican music, and he loved Chicano music – in fact, Crosno loved all types of music and that was readily apparent because he had an eclectic sense of rhythm and appreciation. He loved all types of music, but he really made us Chicanos feel special about the music we liked and danced to. Whether we were in the cafeteria eating lunch and listening to Crosno on KELP-Radio, or whether we were at one of our Fox Hops, if Crosno was the DJ, he made us dance. We just couldn’t help ourselves. He lightened and enlightened our lives.

The fact that he also made fun of himself further endeared him to us Chicanos and Chicanas because he wasn’t making fun of us he was making fun of himself and we related to that. Anglos, for the most part, took themselves too seriously. But, not Crosno. He knew what he was doing. He was welcoming us into the general circle of humanity. He knew that some people didn’t like Mexicans, he knew that there was racism against us, so he defused that. He was silly, irreverent, hilarious, and accepting.

He accepted us, he accepted our music. That ridiculous wig he wore to hide his own baldness became his trademark, and I never saw him without it. Even the wig was funny, with the pompadour and the five-inch sideburns. Nobody wore hair like that in those days, but Crosno did. In fact, it would have been impossible for anyone to have hair like that, but Crosno did. So, we laughed the harder.

His television show, “Crosno’s Hop” became the place to see and be seen, as every Chicano who could boogie and mambo his way through life showed up bringing his favorite girl. I remember once, asking beautiful Judy to go to the dance with me. When she said yes, I was flabbergasted. I never expected Judy to say yes to homely little me, so when she did I was shocked. Because I didn’t have a car, there was no way I could take her, so I had to talk my way out of it. Fortunately, Judy understood, but she did make me promise to dance with her at the next Fox Hop. Me? With Judy, my dream girl?

Yes, and Crosno made it possible. Even if I never took Judy to the Crosno Hop, she had said yes and that was enough for me. Her “yes” gave me more confidence at 16 than I would’ve had any other way. Crosno loved Chicanos in El Paso so much that not even a big money job in San Diego could keep him away. So, he stayed and we loved him for it. He never left for bigger markets, although he could have. He was one of us, he was an honorary Chicano, and he made us feel loved and wanted.

He made us Chicanos feel like we were part of the general wheel of humanity. He seemed to understand what we were going through, but he never preached, never raised the race issue. He didn’t have to. Just his acceptance of our music and of our way of life was enough to keep us going. He never berated Chicanos, he never berated Anglos, he never berated anybody. He just played music – he played Chicano Soul Music, and we loved him for it.

Steve, thank you for everything that you did for us Chicanos, we’ll never forget you. You brought us laughter, you brought us respect and understanding. You knew who we were and what we were about. You never made fun of us, never ridiculed our existence. On the contrary, you made fun of yourself. You made us laugh when times were tough for us, and you made us sensitive to our own power, our own humanity.

You know, Steve, when you were asked why you had stayed in radio for such a long time, you responded: “What drives me to keep going is the people and making them laugh – in a way I guess I’m looking for love and acceptance.” I’ve got news for you, vato. You’ve always had love and acceptance, especially from us Chicanos. Que en paz descanses, hermano. We miss you already.

Sin Fin

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Joe Olvera is a freelance writer who lives in beautiful El Paso. He can be reached at jolvera@aliviane.org.

I’m sad tonight to learn of the passing of Steve Crosno. He was
someone who gave me a start in the media as a mentor and as a friend.

MY MEMORIES OF MY FRIEND STEVE CROSNO:

I remember the exact night I met Steve Crosno for the first time. It
was in 1975 when my father Jim Myers was a guest on the teleprompter
cable TV Show POTTER IN THE PM from 7 to 10 p.m. Dad was an artist
and his paintings were featured on that show. The old Teleprompter
Cable studios were off Cotton south of I-10 and Cable Channel 3 was the
local originating channel for mostly live studio television. I
remember the place was run by one overworked middle aged man who ran
two cameras, lighting, sound, the techincal directing (switching) and
what limited graphics were available. Watching him run around the
studio like a madman I suggested helping him run the cameras and he
replied, “kid, if you want you can run the who damn place.” He said
the right thing to the right kid. Read more