If you were a young Mexican Catholic boy growing up in 1980s Southern California, your family taught you at least three gestures based on the Holy Cross. Each part of this trinity was as intricate and important and integral to our identity as the others in our young minds, repeated again and again until the rituals became as natural as breathing.
One was obviously the sign of the cross, introduced by our mothers and aunts whenever we needed to connect with God and refined at la doctrina (catechism class). Another came from our richer cousins: the Konami Code, a secret joystick cipher that unlocked all sorts of advantages in the Nintendo games we played at their homes.