LL
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- Joined
- Dec 29, 2007
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...when the Universe aligns just right. 
This evening I was out doing my usual walking mileage in & around Bowman, and kept hearing snatches of button accordion and singing on the wind. As in mexicana tradicional y música de baile. I first thought it was a radio, and when I realized it was live, that maybe one of Bowman's bars had hired a band. Not so. It was much better than that.
The wind is a tricky thing when it comes to sound, so I had to zig and zag a bit, but finally found the source. Several families of laborers were partying in an alley behind a tiny motel. While some cooked, others lounged, and several were playing accordion, guitar, and a bajo sexto, while singing complex harmonies.
It was much too cold for such a thing (by my lazy white guy standards, anyway), and spitting a fine drizzle, so what struck me most was their obliviousness to the conditions. A gravel alley driveway, a dumpster not far away, some abandoned junk scattered around, and the funky weather... yet everyone was smiling hugely and having a great time. "It is a fine day to be alive!" was clearly the shared sentiment, and they were making the most of it.
I was instantly waved in to join them when I stopped to listen. I watched several songs, accepted a beer, and marveled at the magic for maybe twenty minutes, when serendipity struck.
Back in my audio production days I carried a roadcase of CDs to play during a band's breaks, and had virtually every kind obtainable, from Dixieland Jazz to Arab dance music. Since most of my shows were in the Southwest, a good percentage of the discs were Latin music. Norteño, Tejano, Banda, Ranchera, Salsa, Cumbia, and so forth. Since I didn't know Latin music well enough to buy it a la carte, I subscribed to a DJ service for broad spectrum updates, and several "Nu Latin Trax" CDs showed up in my mailbox every month for years. Each contained all the popular styles (with an emphasis on the Mexican ones), and were intended for use by true party pro DJs and radio stations. Only the best material, and 25-30 tracks on each one.
Well, I'd accumulated about 150 of the Latin Trax discs and hadn't played 'em in years, so excused myself promising to return soon, and did with a carton packed with musica. All 150 of them. For a moment they thought I was selling something, but I'd looked up and memorized the phrase "Que son un regalo" before leaving my house in case that happened. Repeating it while handing everyone in sight a thick stack of CDs quickly corrected any misunderstanding. :lol:
The atmosphere was an odd mix of purest Little Kid on Christmas Morning Joy---the look on their faces was priceless as they started reading off the tunes and artists to each other and pointing excitedly---and disbelief/restraint. The world just didn't work this way. Especially their world.
I didn't want to put them through that awkward "So what do we say or do now?" thing, so just left with a wave and smile after the CDs were passed out.
I looked back when I was about a half block away, and saw what looked like every last one of them, kids included, standing at the mouth of the alley watching me go. I think they had been waving the entire time.
This evening I was out doing my usual walking mileage in & around Bowman, and kept hearing snatches of button accordion and singing on the wind. As in mexicana tradicional y música de baile. I first thought it was a radio, and when I realized it was live, that maybe one of Bowman's bars had hired a band. Not so. It was much better than that.
The wind is a tricky thing when it comes to sound, so I had to zig and zag a bit, but finally found the source. Several families of laborers were partying in an alley behind a tiny motel. While some cooked, others lounged, and several were playing accordion, guitar, and a bajo sexto, while singing complex harmonies.
It was much too cold for such a thing (by my lazy white guy standards, anyway), and spitting a fine drizzle, so what struck me most was their obliviousness to the conditions. A gravel alley driveway, a dumpster not far away, some abandoned junk scattered around, and the funky weather... yet everyone was smiling hugely and having a great time. "It is a fine day to be alive!" was clearly the shared sentiment, and they were making the most of it.
I was instantly waved in to join them when I stopped to listen. I watched several songs, accepted a beer, and marveled at the magic for maybe twenty minutes, when serendipity struck.
Back in my audio production days I carried a roadcase of CDs to play during a band's breaks, and had virtually every kind obtainable, from Dixieland Jazz to Arab dance music. Since most of my shows were in the Southwest, a good percentage of the discs were Latin music. Norteño, Tejano, Banda, Ranchera, Salsa, Cumbia, and so forth. Since I didn't know Latin music well enough to buy it a la carte, I subscribed to a DJ service for broad spectrum updates, and several "Nu Latin Trax" CDs showed up in my mailbox every month for years. Each contained all the popular styles (with an emphasis on the Mexican ones), and were intended for use by true party pro DJs and radio stations. Only the best material, and 25-30 tracks on each one.
Well, I'd accumulated about 150 of the Latin Trax discs and hadn't played 'em in years, so excused myself promising to return soon, and did with a carton packed with musica. All 150 of them. For a moment they thought I was selling something, but I'd looked up and memorized the phrase "Que son un regalo" before leaving my house in case that happened. Repeating it while handing everyone in sight a thick stack of CDs quickly corrected any misunderstanding. :lol:
The atmosphere was an odd mix of purest Little Kid on Christmas Morning Joy---the look on their faces was priceless as they started reading off the tunes and artists to each other and pointing excitedly---and disbelief/restraint. The world just didn't work this way. Especially their world.
I didn't want to put them through that awkward "So what do we say or do now?" thing, so just left with a wave and smile after the CDs were passed out.
I looked back when I was about a half block away, and saw what looked like every last one of them, kids included, standing at the mouth of the alley watching me go. I think they had been waving the entire time.
