may

A spectacular run that included back-to-back World Series championships and delivered unforgettable memories ended with a whimper for the Los Angeles Dodgers on Thursday.

The Milwaukee Brewers, humiliated by the Dodgers last year in a four-game sweep, returned the favor at Chavez Ravine, defeating L.A., 6-4, in the National League Championship Series. The loss eliminated the Dodgers and ended their run at a vaunted three-peat, or three consecutive titles.

No North American sports franchise can claim such an accomplishment since the Shaq- and Kobe Bryant-led Lakers from 2000 to 2002.

How did a team of All-Stars fall short? Our sports team delivered tremendous coverage that answers that question and many more.

Columnist Bill Plaschke wrote how a team with seemingly every advantage fell short, beat writer Maddie Lee documented what led to the demise, while columnist Bill Shaikin provided updates to several questions on the team’s future. The devoted fans of the Boys in Blue have also had a chance to react.

Let’s sample some of their in-depth reporting.

Shohei Ohtani’s declining health was too much to overcome

Plaschke wrote that the single biggest reason the Dodgers didn’t three-peat centered on the health of designated hitter and pitcher Shohei Ohtani.

The owner of four MVP trophies, Ohtani began the season with a goal of also winning the Cy Young Award. So he focused on pitching, and he pitched well, going 8-2 with a 1.79 ERA in 14 starts.

Then he injured his knee, but he still pitched, long past when he should have been pitching, said Plaschke. He was finally pulled off the mound in early July, but by then he had also injured his elbow and his offense suffered because he was so worried about the pitching. It was at this point the Dodgers should have shut him down entirely, given him a month off to ensure he would be ready for October, according to Plaschke.

But no. Ohtani insisted he was fine even though his plummeting batting numbers said otherwise. When he was finally placed on the injured list in early September, Plaschke said it was too late, and he entered the playoffs as a shell of his former great self.

An autopsy reveals much

Lee agreed with third baseman Max Muncy when he said, “The train finally ran out of steam, I guess.”

A major aspect of the challenge of winning three straight is simply workload. The Dodgers not only have played more games than any other team the last two years, but their schedule has included grueling travel.

The Dodgers started both the 2024 and 2025 seasons early and overseas, playing in the Seoul Series and Tokyo Series in consecutive years. And both years ended with coast-to-coast travel for the World Series, as the Dodgers won titles over the New York Yankees and Toronto Blue Jays.

The team’s collective age — the oldest lineup in the majors this year, according to Baseball Reference, weighted by at-bats and games played — may not have helped.

Cap concerns

Shaikin wrote about a lockout expected this winter as Major League Baseball owners attempt to implement a salary cap, which limits the amount of money a team can spend on player salaries.

The owners initially proposed a salary cap of $245 million for next year. The Dodgers already have $347 million committed to 14 players next year, according to Cot’s Baseball Contracts.

Under a cap, the owners have promised a transition period to account for existing commitments, and an actual negotiated cap could be higher, said Shaikin.

Even if the players do not agree to a cap — and they insist they won’t — whatever economic system emerges from collective bargaining would likely make it painful for the Dodgers to spend so freely, according to Shaikin.

What some Dodgers fans are saying

Most baseball teams create a now well-anticipated “thank you fans” social media post after the conclusion of a season.

Passionate fans use the post as a sounding board for everything that ails them about their favorite teams. Just look at the “thank you fans” X posts from the New York Yankees and Philadelphia Phillies laced with profanities and vitriol fiercer than any East Coast nor’easter.

But on Friday, Dodgers fans were gracious and supportive on the fan appreciation post on X.

“Thank you for the great run over the last three years. Let’s come back stronger,” wrote one user.

“Thank you for the ride,” another tweet noted. “We’ll be back next year!”

The week’s biggest stories

A house burns off Calle Miramar in San Juan Capistrano during the Norte fire on Friday.

(Sandy Huffaker/For The Times)

Southern California wildfires

Olympics and sports news

Crime, courts and protests

More news

Editor’s pick

More picks

Things to do

(Ariana Drehsler / For The Times)

• 🎭The world premiere play “Bobby Robotowitz” brings AI questions into your living room — literally — with performances on the Eastside and Westside.
• 👀 The 10 biggest revelations of Nathan Fielder’s new Elizabeth Holmes documentary, ‘You Can See Everything.’
• 🍽️ For many, like the preservationists pushing to save Santa Monica’s Mel’s Drive-In, the mere thought of demolishing the iconic restaurant is offensive. Eating there was certainly on the bingo card for columnist LZ Granderson when he and his son first drove across the Southwest decades ago, and it continues to be a favorite breakfast spot of theirs.

Today’s recipe

(Stephanie Breijo / Los Angeles Times)

Many meatballs are made with a panade, often a mixture of white bread soaked in milk, which lends moisture to the final meatballs. For these lamb meatballs, cooking editor Cody Reiss decided to make his panade out of ingredients that felt more in-line with the mutabbal he was serving them with. He ended up using a mixture of leftover pita bread and labneh (drained yogurt). The resulting meatballs were moist, herby, spiced, seasoned, spicy and just a joy to eat.

Photo of the day

Volunteers led by guerrilla activist Jonathan Hale paint over the faded crosswalks of an intersection near USC on Sept. 19.

(Etienne Laurent/For the Times)

Games

Here’s today’s mini crossword, plus our other free, daily crossword puzzle, sudoku, word search and jigsaw games.

Have a great day, from the Essential California team

Jack Dolan, investigative reporter
Hugo Martín, assistant editor, Fast Break desk
Kevinisha Walker, multiplatform editor
Andrew J. Campa, weekend writer
Karim Doumar, head of newsletters

How can we make this newsletter more useful? Send comments to essentialcalifornia@latimes.com. Check our top stories, topics and the latest articles on latimes.com.

It is unclear when Billy Joel will perform again.

The 77-year-old singer has to take “a series of tests” before being able to tour again, he told the Hollywood Reporter in a health update following his 2025 brain disorder diagnosis.

“I’m not allowed to drive,” Joel said in the interview published Thursday. “And I can’t do performances because what the neurologist told me, every time you do a show, it’s like you’re getting a concussion.”

Joel canceled concerts in May 2025 after revealing two months before that he had a brain disorder known as normal pressure hydrocephalus, or NPH, which causes physical and mental issues.

“This condition has been exacerbated by recent concert performances, leading to problems with hearing, vision and balance,” Joel said in a statement on his Instagram in May 2025. “Under his doctor’s instructions, Billy is undergoing specific physical therapy and has been advised to refrain from performing during this recovery period.”

NPH is a brain disorder in which excess cerebrospinal fluid accumulates in the brain’s ventricles, according to the Alzheimer’s Assn. It can cause cognitive issues, difficulty walking and the loss of bladder control. Those suffering with NPH often walk with a wide stance and their bodies bent forward as if they were trying to maintain balance on a boat — a feeling that Joel described while on Bill Maher’s podcast “Club Random” on July 21, 2025.

Other symptoms include mild dementia that involves short-term memory loss, a lack of interest in daily activities and difficulty completing routine tasks.

NPH is one of the few causes of dementia that can be controlled or reversed with surgical treatment, usually involving the placement of a shunt.

It is unclear whether Joel underwent the procedure, although the “Uptown Girl” singer initially postponed his concerts in March 2025 after undergoing unspecified surgery and physical therapy.

The surgery took place just weeks after the crooner lost his balance on Feb. 22, 2025, while performing “It’s Still Rock and Roll to Me” at the Mohegan Sun Arena in Uncasville, Conn.; however, it is unclear if the tumble and subsequent surgery were at all related to the NPH diagnosis he revealed to the public that May.

For now, Joel reports that he is “OK” and the diagnosis is “not that serious,” per his THR interview. Neurologists have warned the singer, however, about the risks involved in performing, including that the lighting and sound can cause stress in the body.

“And [neurologists] said, ‘Well, you really shouldn’t be doing that right now.’ So they have to test me further to see if I can go back and do performing again, which I would like to be able to do,” he said.

Times staff writer Alexandra Del Rosario and former assistant editor Christie D’Zurilla contributed to this report.

As the nation hurtles toward a pivotal and divisive midterm election, it’s fair to wonder if people on opposite sides of the political spectrum will ever be able to again live peacefully as neighbors, to talk, and especially listen, to each other.

It’s a question co-directors Robert May and Barry Levinson and producer Jason Sosnoff set out to answer in the aftermath of the insurrection at the Capitol on Jan. 6, 2021. It led to their five-part docuseries, “Bucks County, USA,” now on streaming on PBS.org and the PBS app, that unfolds across four years in a suburban Pennsylvania county being ripped apart by vicious school board battles poisoned by partisan personal conflicts. (The finale streams Sunday, and the full docuseries will air Oct. 29 on SoCal PBS.)

“We don’t pay enough attention to one another,” Levinson says. “We just say, ‘I’ve formed my position and I’m locked into it’ and we don’t share enough interaction where we can discuss things. Democracy requires interactions, and if we cannot find a way to find common ground, that’s my big worry.”

The series shows how Paul Martino spent a fortune supporting Republican candidates who supported reopening schools quickly after the height of the pandemic but then, more contentiously, turned their attention to the culture wars. They focused on what was being taught in the classrooms and stocked on the shelves in the school libraries, leaving teachers feeling attacked and Black families and LGBTQ+ students alienated and ostracized.

“It’s unexpected how something like that can accelerate into such a contentious situation,” Levinson says, “where well-educated people in a wonderful community can’t figure things out.”

May says national polarization is poisoning the atmosphere locally. “It became a life-or-death battle in the name of their kids, but they both felt their children would be mercilessly mistreated if they didn’t do something to save them from the other side.”

An aerial view of Bucks County, Pa., the community at the center of Robert May and Barry Levinson’s docuseries.

(SenArt Films & Baltimore Pictures)

The filmmakers followed the heated battles as people in the divided community resorted to screaming and name-calling. It frequently plays like a fun house nightmare version of “Our Town.” That’s true even of their version of the play’s Stage Manager. Two teenagers, Evi Casey and Vanessa Martino, Paul’s daughter, guide us through each episode. While the girls are best friends, Evi’s liberal mother and Vanessa’s conservative father view each other as hostile opposition.

“I think the series does a good job of showing the political division and how it affects the kids,” says Casey.

The series opens with a school choir singing “What a Wonderful World” underneath a collection of residents telling us how they’ve been berated: “I’ve been called a pedophile.” “I’ve been called a Nazi.” “I’ve been called anti-American.” “I’ve been called a dyke and a groomer.”

But the series then gets to know people in depth, allowing for far more nuance than the contentious school board meetings.

“My hope was that people can take the time to at least have a deeper conversation with somebody who they think is doing harm to their community and try and understand it better, “ Sosnoff adds. “It starts with microchanges where somebody reconsiders the way they might harm somebody else.”

Katherine “Kitty” Good Semisch, a retired Bucks County teacher and a key figure in the documentary, says the series is perfectly timed for the midterms because of its efforts to humanize everyone. “Dehumanization and demonization lead to the worst outcomes, and this kicks out from under anybody the lazy position that the people on the other side aren’t human,” she says. “Everyone is just trying to find something that works for their community.”

Sosnoff originally approached Levinson with the idea of a project that would humanize both sides, but his original idea was to bring people together at a summer camp with a facilitator so they could get to know each other better. “Barry wisely said, ‘That’s more of a sociological experiment where you’re playing God,’” Sosnoff recalls. “He said, ‘Let’s focus on a seemingly idyllic small town, like in “Our Town,” and examine what happened and why.’”

They chose Bucks County, a purple county in a purple state. “It’s not a place of extremists but people were really inflamed,” Sosnoff says, noting that some people were reluctant to speak on camera. “The climate of fear was very much alive. It was a community in trauma.”

There are brawls over policy that lead to lawsuits, but the main drama is the 2023 school board election, where the Democrats hoped to reverse the Republicans’ 6-3 majority.

While May says he is offended by “people that don’t care about other people or their right to exist,” especially when it comes to LGBTQ+ rights, he emphasized that he resisted taking sides in the documentary. “When we don’t see people as human, that’s when you lose a society.”

Indeed, Sosnoff says that while it’s bad when people are marginalized and victimized by discrimination from those in power, they’d still edit episodes to keep everything balanced, occasionally saying, “We need to give conservative characters more screen time and understand their positions.” (He also says they grew to like everyone involved.)

At the center of the drama depicted in “Bucks County, USA” is a school board election and a community grappling with political division.

(SenArt Films & Baltimore Pictures)

May says he knows some viewers will be furious with this approach, but he hopes that if they watch all five episodes, they’ll get a full picture. “You can’t just see parts of it. You need to see in order,” May says. “People reveal who they are over the five episodes. There’s an extraordinary amount of nuance, but if somebody’s saying something stupid, we have that too.”

(And don’t mistake May’s efforts at evenhandedness for a lack of passion — the day after a 30-minute joint interview with Levinson, he called me back and talked, largely uninterrupted, mostly about bias and perceptions.)

Amazingly, most people interviewed from both sides in the community support the final version.

At the center of the action are Vanessa’s mother, Aarati Martino, who ran for school board as a Republican, and Paul, who poured hundreds of thousands of dollars into school board elections.

“Overall, I am pleased,” Paul Martino says now. “There’s some things I think don’t portray the facts exactly quite right, but they recorded 500 hours and you’re not going to love everything that’s on the screen. Everybody is represented in this film.”

Martino, who never really owns the impact of him using his fortune to try to elect cultural conservatives, says he’s been “unfairly attacked” and has become “a convenient boogeyman in some of the scenes. But I’m actually not even upset about that piece of the puzzle.” (What he feels is lacking is that in 2021 he says 30% of the 300 candidates he funded around the state were Democrats.)

And Donte King, whose family endures racism both subtle and blatant, praises the filmmakers’ attempts to humanize people with contrasting viewpoints, saying he was pleased with getting to tell his story. “It allows people to connect with you,” he says. “We might have different ideologies, but we’re more alike than we are unalike, so maybe somebody who votes blue will identify with someone who votes red and vice versa.”

The closest thing to a hero in the series may be Semisch, a liberal, who shows civic courage in her efforts to build bridges, meeting one-on-one with Vonna DeArmond, a conservative elementary school teacher, and organizing events like an ice cream social and a candle-making evening. (Martino also posted an online peace offering, saying he’d buy anyone from the other side drinks; Semisch was the only one to take him up on it, but several people interviewed, including May, say Martino’s unbending personality may explain the lack of response.)

Semisch wishes that May had fact-checked some of the misleading claims by the right, but she praises the series’ subtlety. “I understand people’s frustration, but they’re leaving it to the audience to sort out who’s making sense,” she says. “My side was advocating for more books in the library and for better training for teachers to navigate difficult topics. As you watch, it seems to me that the people on the other side aren’t making as much sense.”

Near the end of the series, there’s one sweet moment of coming together between Evi’s and Vanessa’s mothers and another moment of seemingly genuine outreach by one of the town’s conservatives to King. But there’s also plenty of acrimony and recrimination in the aftermath of the school board election and one final confrontation between King and Paul Martino at a roundtable that leaves little doubt that tensions are still simmering.

Still, May says, “I remain hopeful and optimistic because I’ve seen the humanity in all of them. I think things are better there now than when we started.”

Semisch, with DeArmond, will lead discussions about the series in Bucks County and May hopes others will follow suit around the country. He and Levinson hope that by strengthening local communities, it can eventually lead to stronger national bonds. “Maybe people can learn from them. Maybe this series is literally the beginning of a change.”

Sosnoff is a bit more measured in his final assessment, quoting a participant as saying, “We haven’t buried the hatchet yet, but it’s been put away in the closet,” he says. “I’ll take that as progress.”

Do you remember what you were doing when the infamous L.A. City Hall racist audio leak scandal broke four years ago?

I always will: I was naked.

Sunday morning, Oct. 9, 2022, around 8 a.m., I was about to take a shower when I decided to check my cellphone one more time. Thank God I did: If I hadn’t, I would’ve been half an hour late on assisting in one of the most explosive stories ever to hit L.A. politics.

Via Slack, Times assistant managing editor Steve Clow asked if I could serve as a second set of ears on audio that my colleagues had unearthed involving four of the most powerful L.A. políticos at the time: City Council President Nury Martinez, Councilmembers Gil Cedillo and Kevin de León, and L.A. County Federation of Labor President Ron Herrera. I was still in my birthday suit (sorry for the visual, gentle readers, but I’m sworn to report the facts on this job) when I played the snippet Clow shared: Martinez describing the Black son of then-Councilmember Mike Bonin as “su negrito” — his darky.

I put on my shorts and told my wife I wouldn’t be helping at her restaurant that day.

Clow sent me more clips over the next hour, each crasser than the other — I remember gasping audibly at the part when the four were laughing as Martinez referred to Oaxacans as “ugly.” That morning, my colleagues Benjamin Oreskes, Dakota Smith, Julia Wick and David Zahniser published their first story on the fiasco, which turned out to be a secretly recorded conversation from a year earlier that someone had posted on Reddit just the day before.

The scandal quickly became a national sensation, with even then-President Joe Biden weighing in. L.A. wretched in collective disgust and demanded action, which definitely came: Martinez and Herrera quickly resigned, while Cedillo — who had already lost his reelection bid — would stay on until his bitter end, and De León wouldn’t leave until challenger Ysabel Jurado destroyed him in his 2024 reelection bid. The electoral repercussions of the audio leak can still be felt four years later in this election, as Nithya Raman stages a strong challenge against incumbent Karen Bass — a sentence no one would’ve believed in the fall of 2022, when Bass was on the cusp of winning her first term, and Raman was the lone democratic socialist on the council.

I would’ve figured the anniversary of something as titanic as all of the above would’ve sparked more commemorations than just my columna this week. Nope! L.A. has moved on to the point that Cedillo wasn’t booted from a group photo that included current District 9 council candidate Jose Ugarte, former Assemblymember Wendy Carrillo, former Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa and current Assemblymember Mark Gonzalez — because even Chicanosauruses can survive a political asteroid, I guess?

Having political leaders spew racist, homophobic nonsense now seems like the good ol’ days in an era where infernos destroy or stink up swaths of L.A., immigration agents terrorize immigrants from Westwood to the Eastside, and a spokesperson for a sitting American president denies that the commander in chief suggested Iran bomb the City of Angels, even though he said it during a campaign rally.

I shouldn’t really be surprised, I guess: L.A. infamously loves to forget its own history. But I would urge all you readers to read the great, Pulitzer Prize-winning coverage my colleagues did in the aftermath of the audio leak scandal, because it captured the city at its worst — but also its finest as residents fought back and demanded politicians do better.

Four years later, we can only hope this upcoming election shows more of the same.

The week’s biggest stories

Domenic Hix looks back as a large wave crashes on the shoreline in Laguna Beach on Friday.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Tropical Storm Rachel in SoCal

California real estate

California crime

In memoriam

More news

Editor’s pick

More picks

Things to do

(Illustrations by Lindsey Made This; photograph by Charles Phoenix)

Today’s recipe

(Rebecca Peloquin / For The Times)

This recipe makes apple butter that is less sweet than most; use more sugar if you like, but don’t use less or there won’t be enough to properly preserve the pureed apples.

Photo of the day

(Stephanie Breijo / Los Angeles Times)

Games

Here’s today’s mini crossword, plus our other free, daily crossword puzzle, sudoku, word search and jigsaw games.

Have a great day, from the Essential California team

Jack Dolan, investigative reporter
Hugo Martín, assistant editor, fast break desk
Kevinisha Walker, multiplatform editor
Andrew Campa, weekend writer
Karim Doumar, head of newsletters

How can we make this newsletter more useful? Send comments to essentialcalifornia@latimes.com. Check our top stories, topics and the latest articles on latimes.com.

Céline Dion will go on — even after taking a little tumble onstage.

The 58-year-old singer slipped in front of a live audience while performing “Dans un Autre monde” during her Paris residency on Oct. 7. But the French Canadian singer quickly got back up and signaled to fans that she was A-OK by flashing a thumbs-up, in footage obtained by People.

Despite the slight stumble, it has been a triumphant comeback to the live stage after a six-year hiatus for the “All By Myself” singer, who has shows scheduled for this fall and next spring at the Paris Plenitude Arena (formerly Paris La Défense Arena).

In 2022, Dion was diagnosed with stiff-person syndrome (SPS), an autoimmune neurological disorder that affects about one in a million people and has no cure. The illness is characterized by muscle rigidity in the torso, arms and legs. Sensitivity to noise, touch and emotional distress can set off muscle spasms, according to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke.

Following the diagnosis, Dion canceled her North American Courage World Tour in May 2023 (which originally began in 2019 but was interrupted by COVID-19 pandemic) as she continued to deal with severe muscle spasms and was having difficulty controlling her voice.

“I’m so sorry to disappoint all of you once again. I’m working really hard to build back my strength, but touring can be very difficult even when you’re 100%,” she said in a public statement on her website in May 2023. “It’s not fair to you to keep postponing the shows, and even though it breaks my heart, it’s best that we cancel everything now until I’m really ready to be back on stage again.”

Her early symptoms began in 2008 during her Taking Chances World Tour, when she experienced difficulty controlling her voice despite doctors saying her vocal cords appeared normal, she shared with Vogue in 2024.

Additional details about her struggles with SPS came to light in a 2024 Prime Video documentary titled “I Am: Celine Dion,” directed by Academy Award nominee Irene Taylor, which follows the singer as she navigates the drastic changes to her health.

The “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” singer has experienced broken ribs because of the spasms, she told Hoda Kotb on “Today” in 2024 while promoting the documentary. Her journey back to the spotlight has entailed intense physical therapy, vocal rehabilitation and medication, she said.

“I’m going to go back onstage, even if I have to crawl, even if I have to talk with my hands, I will,” Dion shared. “Not just because I have to, or because I need to, but because I want to. And I miss it.”

Netflix plans a substantial round of layoffs as the streaming giant faces rising competition and pressure to retain its subscribers, according to people familiar with the job cuts.

The cuts are expected to affect 5% of the company‘s workforce, which could be 800 employees, according to one of the sources who was not authorized to comment. The job losses will affect the creative team including those working on features, the source said.

Netflix declined to comment. The planned cuts are believed to be the biggest at the Los Gatos company since 2022. The news was first reported by news outlet Puck.

Netflix has been under scrutiny from investors over how much time its subscribers spend on the streaming service. View hours rose only about 2% in the first half of 2026 compared with a year earlier, even as content spending climbed.

“Overall we’re not growing as fast as I want us to, and we’re working on making that move faster,” said Netflix co-Chief Executive Ted Sarandos at the Bloomberg Screentime event last week.

Netflix has noted how engagement can be measured in different ways. For example, its investment in live programming helps spur significant subscription sign-ups, even though it represents a small percentage of watch time on the streaming service, the company has said.

But some investors remain skeptical about the company’s future growth. Rival YouTube remains the leader in streaming viewing hours in the U.S. on TVs, representing 14.2% versus Netflix’s 7.8% in July, according to Nielsen. Netflix stock has also declined 43% compared to a year ago. On Friday, the stock closed at $70.30, down about 2%.

Netflix last conducted major layoffs in 2022 after the streamer reported subscriber losses for the first time in more than a decade. In May that year, the company laid off 150 workers and dozens of contractors and part-time workers in areas including its social media teams. The following month, it laid off 300 people or roughly 3% of its staff.

Recently, Netflix made changes to its games division. In August, the company closed its Hollywood-based gaming studio Night School and said it was in the process of closing its Helsinki-based gaming studio Moonloot.

Kacey Musgraves is taking another trip to “Uncertain, TX” — this time with a little bit of Tejano flair courtesy of a legendary South Texas band.

On Tuesday, Musgraves released a Spanish version of her critically acclaimed track featuring Tejano group Intocable — a song she originally recorded with country star Willie Nelson, which debuted at No. 50 on Billboard’s Hot Country Songs after the May 1 release of her seventh studio album, “Middle of Nowhere.”

“Having a song with the legends of Intocable is such a thrill for me,” said Musgraves in a press release on Tuesday. “As a Texan, I am proud of the cultural melting pot that makes our state so great and this collaboration is such a fun example of that.”

According to Intocable lead singer and accordionist Ricardo “Ricky” Muñoz, who spoke with The Times via Zoom, Musgraves had first thought of including the great conjunto accordionist Flaco Jiménez, who passed away in August 2025, to join in on the original track with Nelson, a fact that the country gal herself confirmed on the Zane Lowe interview series on Apple Music in May.

“Flaco Jiménez’s son told me that Kacey wanted to do an all-Texas thing where Willie Nelson was in the song and Kacey also invited Flaco to play accordion,” said Muñoz, who heard the original demo. “I believe at the time, Flaco was not good, health-wise, so he wasn’t able to do it.”

Muñoz, who has always been a fan of the “Rainbow” singer, said the song was “orbiting” around him. Three weeks ago, he received a call from Musgraves’ team to help with the Spanish version.

“I was very conservative on the accordion part. I just played little parts here and there,” said Muñoz. “Then they call me back and they go like, ‘No, give me some more of that.’”

This isn’t Musgraves’ first collaboration with a música mexicana artist. In August 2025, the 38-year-old singer-songwriter joined forces with Carin León for the cross-cultural ballad “Lost in Translation.”

Muñoz considered the collaboration a “perfect fit.”

“We’re representing the Tejano community,  and I’m proud of that,” said Muñoz, who comes from a long line of Texas-born Mexicans. “ Once we meet in person and we get to play together, it’s even gonna be a better connection to the song.”

On Thursday, the two acts will perform together for the first time for Musgraves’ Middle of Nowhere tour at the Moody Center in Austin, Texas.

The iconic Tejano band formed in the border town of Zapata, Texas, in 1993, and rose to fame thanks to Tejano pop hits like “Fuerte No Soy,” “Soñador Eterno” and “Estás Que Te Pelas.”

In July, the “¿Y Todo Para Qué?” group received its own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. At the ceremony, hitmaker and songwriter Edgar Barrera, who grew up in the same borderland area, said that Intocable “showed the world what música mexicana could be.”

But the Grammy-winning band isn’t resting on its laurels. Of the Walk of Fame star, Muñoz said, “that’s just part of the journey. It’s awesome, but I haven’t really paid any more thought than the day I was there.”

Instead, the “Enséñame A Olvidarte” act is looking ahead. The group is preparing for the release of its 16th studio album next year, “Nostalgia Radical,” a project inspired by Muñoz’s mental health journey , which he said has allowed him to show up as his most authentic self.

“I was exploring myself, being vulnerable and asking questions,” said Muñoz. “ To me, going to therapy every Tuesday is like taking out the trash.”

This November, the band — which is currently zigzagging between Mexico and the U.S. for its Cultura Tour — is also up for a Latin Grammy for regional song for their country-fused pro-immigrant anthem “Estamos Todos.”

“We’re all asking all these questions, and we’re not getting the right answers or any answers. We’re just being danced around with the answers,” said Muñoz. “But in the meantime, we’re all together in this.”

The band’s pro-immigrant stance is another thing it has in common with Musgraves, who in May invited invited three teen mariachi brothers previously detained by ICE to open for her sold-out, three-night residency at Gruene Hall in New Braunfels, Texas, the oldest dance hall in the state..

The country singer also asked fans to donate to the Young Center for Immigrant Rights, which helps children whose parents have faced deportations, during the opening night of her tour in Chicago back in August.

“We need more people to talk about this and not stay quiet. Kacey is coming from another community and stepping up, I mean, that’s big, man. That’s huge.  I commend her for that,” said Muñoz.

Every fall, I teach a Latino History of Orange County course at Chapman University — from the Portola expedition all the way to Huntington Beach’s MAGA Latina councilmember, Gracey Van Der Mark. The lecture last week focused on how anti-Mexican politics have always worked in Orange County and usually go on to be copied nationwide.

I usually, sadly, have to update this lecture every year because the lowlights just keep coming. That’s why this time around, one of my PowerPoint slides ended with “2026: Anaheim?”.

Haven’t you heard? A lawsuit accuses Anaheim mayor Ashleigh Aitken of calling her chief of staff a “dirty Mexican.”

Stay classy, O.C.!

TimesOC writer (and my fellow Anaheimer) Gabriel San Román first reported on the allegation last month. He revealed that a lawyer for Aitken’s chief of staff Berenice Ballinas was seeking mediation from the city after his client suffered a “sustained pattern of harassment, discriminatory treatment and, most recently, retaliation” while doing her job. A legal claim filed soon after offered pages of alleged incidents detailing what Ballinas claimed she had to deal with when her boss supposedly had too much to drink while on city business.

It’s an ugly read, with incidents at Disneyland’s Club 33, Angel Stadium and other Anaheim landmarks. Yet no passage is more damning — yet more Orange County — than when Ballinas claimed Aitken once called her a “dirty Mexican” in front of then-city attorney Jim Vanderpool and said another time that the mayor didn’t want “a Mexican” like Ballinas to drive her car while Aitken was supposedly what the British satirical magazine Private Eye would call “tired and emotional.”

The mayor, a Democrat who’s running for reelection, has denied the explosive charge in an official statement and during a recent council meeting. And yet the allegation against her now enters Orange County’s long, sad spectrum of anti-Mexican political history.

Just part of the list: Proposition 187. Poll guards. Trying to give local police immigration-enforcement powers. When then-Orange County supervisor Ronald Caspers called a group of Mexican American county employees who demanded promotions “bandidos” during a 1972 supervisors meeting, then suggested the supes move the county seat away from Santa Ana because the city “does not have a normal ethnic balance” — in other words, it was too Mexican.

Or how about when a Newport Beach council member, Dick Nichols, opined during a 2003 council meeting that he opposed expanding the grassy areas of Corona del Mar State Beach because Mexicans “claim it as theirs, and it becomes their personal, private ground all day”? (Asked to apologize, Nichols doubled down by saying, “Where the hell am I in any way discriminating or being a bigot by making a statement that is blatantly true?”)

My hometown is not exempt from this sad parade. Anaheim’s schools, parks and swimming pool were segregated until the 1950s. In 1999, the Anaheim Union High School District board of trustees voted to sue Mexico for $50 million for educating the children of undocumented immigrants (The Times’ write-up was the first time I appeared in the paper, although the writer misspelled my last name).

Why all the O.C. anti-Mexican hate? You’ll have to enroll in my Chapman class for the full explanation. But the main reason is that Mexicans have long functioned as O.C.’s demonized minority. When millions of O.C. residents have grown up believing the powers that be that all Mexicans do is work low-paying jobs and underachieve in life, no wonder politicians bash them again and again — and no wonder many Anaheim residents aren’t giving Aitken the benefit of the doubt.

On Friday, the Anaheim City Council announced after a closed session that it would launch an independent investigation into Ballinas’ allegations. Aitken had an eventful Friday of her own. She admitted on Instagram that she has an “unhealthy relationship” with alcohol and sighed to CBS Los Angeles that Ballinas was “somebody who I thought was my right-hand person.” And while local activists have demanded she resign, O.C.’s ascending liberal machine isn’t asking for her head the way they would’ve if it were a Republican official: Mayor Anaheim gave the opening remarks at the Orange County Labor Federation’s annual Solidarity Awards gala on Friday night to cheers.

Stay classy, O.C.!

The week’s biggest stories

Republican gubernatorial candidate Steve Hilton visits patrons at Victorio’s Ristorante in North Hollywood, where a watch party was held for the CNN governor’s race debate Wednesday night.

(Jason Armond / Los Angeles Times)

California politics

• A sexually suggestive ad from Republican gubernatorial candidate Steve Hilton has drawn millions of views — and condemnation from allies on the right and Democrats.
• Latino voters have shifted away from Karen Bass in the L.A. mayor’s race, according to a new poll.
• The poll’s findings contrast the results of the June 2 primary, in which Bass carried 35 Latino-majority neighborhoods compared with Raman’s seven.

Helicopter tragedy

Paramount-Warner Bros. merger

• David Ellison said the merged Paramount and Warner Bros. Discovery will be called Skydance — the moniker he picked nearly two decades ago when he began building his Hollywood empire.
• Although the name of the corporate parent will change, the two historic studios will continue to operate under their names.
• As Ellison names his new empire, the message is clear: He owns Hollywood, writes news and culture critic Mary McNamara.

More news

Editor’s pick

More picks

Things to do

Retro candies, zombie-themed chips, ghost-branded coffee and large-scale movie characters can all be found at the Horror Boodega snack shop in Burbank.

(Stephanie Breijo / Los Angeles Times)

Today’s recipe

(Genaro Molina/Los Angeles Times)

For culinary content producer Owen Han, his nonna’s recipe for meatballs is as classic as they come. She does not brown the meatballs but instead poaches them in the copious tomato sauce (she called it salsa di pomodoro, or sugo, but you might know it as marinara) so they are extra tender.

Photo of the day

(Nava Rawls / Los Angeles Times)

Games

Here’s today’s mini crossword, plus our other free, daily crossword puzzle, sudoku, word search and jigsaw games.

Have a great day, from the Essential California team

Jack Dolan, investigative reporter
Hugo Martín, assistant editor, fast break desk
Kevinisha Walker, multiplatform editor
Andrew Campa, weekend writer
Karim Doumar, head of newsletters

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