"I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well." And with that declaration from the "Economy" section of Walden, Henry David Thoreau answered some of his critics 150 years ago.
Of Joe Morgan, the Big Red Machine spark plug of the mid-70s, it was said that he could answer a simple question with a five-minute lecture, and that it still made perfect sense to the listener.
So, no, Antony Santos was not just great. But/and it is my story.
I also know that compelling an audience is risky business. "You don't tell me what to read."
As luck (ha ha!) would have it, The Kid's on-call the weekend starting on Friday the 13th, and El Mayimbe is in town. Finally. But the promoters should've said early Saturday morning, for it was 1:00 AM when he finally came out to face the jam-packed place. Such is the life of famous Dominican performers - (desde que se inventaron las escusas...) they can show up any ol' time they want.
On-call. Left hand inside pocket to feel the vibrations - clubs are too loud for ringers. Left-hand drinker; Heineken and Heineken Light at the insistence of a dear friend whom The Kid hasn't seen in at least eight years, but he truly loves the dude, well, everyone does. So, he convinces The Kid on the Light choice. No chance in switching phone to right-hand pocket, which is only used for single car key. By the way, light beer is like decaffeinated coffee: What's the point?
"Did it go off and didn't feel it while I was drinking?" The Kid checks it periodically.
And his watch. Co?o, pero a que hora e' que ese diablo va sal??
Anticipation, anticipation
Is making me late
Is keeping me waiting
Oh, how The Kid loves that '70s chick (and Chiri, too)! But are these the good old days? What if the call comes in as The Mayimbe is about to start?
Just three weeks ago, The Kid was in the company of another dear friend and he totally forgot the one performance he had longed for all his boring adult life.
Yes, he knew the man and the voice that gave us "Canadian Railroad Trilogy" and "Carefree Highway" was to perform that night in Houston, and he had planned to go. But The Kid forgot. The Kid from Higuey had envisioned singing along to all the tunes and impress the gringo audience, but... Sorry, Gordon.
The Mariposa Festival had him on schedule, but maybe a future Massey Hall appearance in shad's home turf would bring The Kid up for the first-ever semi-reunion of the great minds of DR1 (the past separate meetings with Chiri and Indie do not count - they were outmatched).
But there was no way The Kid was going to miss Antony Santos. Not now. Not ever. "Me muero por ti" was all The Kid wanted to hear. Well, not all, but considering that he knows every inflection of El Mayimbe's voice, every hiccup, and every shout-out all? en Providencia, there was no chance The Kid would miss the performance. On-call. No calls. Yet.
People-watching is a favorite pastime, and with a young Dominican crowd, the night would not disappoint. The happy people of the DR. The natural arrogance in display was counter-balanced by The Kid's Alexey Karamazovesque humility. Unless El Mayimbe sings my song.
The concert came and went, and no calls, y no me muero ni por ti ni por nadie. The Kid was not disappointed, but he surely wanted to hear that tune, a tune he can do better than Santos himself. Nino, The Kid's good friend from Monte Cristi, and a friend of a friend of a Santos bandmate, made it all worthwhile. We met THE MAN as he was departing, sexy ladies by his side. The not-so-photogenic Kid refused group pictures with the man and Nino and his beautiful wife. But a good time was had by all.
3:20 AM. The old and trusted, beaten-up Honda starts with no problems.
3:21 AM. "This is Jose, may I help you?"
"Jose, are you the on-call person for the Houston area? If so, we need you to go..."
Of Joe Morgan, the Big Red Machine spark plug of the mid-70s, it was said that he could answer a simple question with a five-minute lecture, and that it still made perfect sense to the listener.
So, no, Antony Santos was not just great. But/and it is my story.
I also know that compelling an audience is risky business. "You don't tell me what to read."
As luck (ha ha!) would have it, The Kid's on-call the weekend starting on Friday the 13th, and El Mayimbe is in town. Finally. But the promoters should've said early Saturday morning, for it was 1:00 AM when he finally came out to face the jam-packed place. Such is the life of famous Dominican performers - (desde que se inventaron las escusas...) they can show up any ol' time they want.
On-call. Left hand inside pocket to feel the vibrations - clubs are too loud for ringers. Left-hand drinker; Heineken and Heineken Light at the insistence of a dear friend whom The Kid hasn't seen in at least eight years, but he truly loves the dude, well, everyone does. So, he convinces The Kid on the Light choice. No chance in switching phone to right-hand pocket, which is only used for single car key. By the way, light beer is like decaffeinated coffee: What's the point?
"Did it go off and didn't feel it while I was drinking?" The Kid checks it periodically.
And his watch. Co?o, pero a que hora e' que ese diablo va sal??
Anticipation, anticipation
Is making me late
Is keeping me waiting
Oh, how The Kid loves that '70s chick (and Chiri, too)! But are these the good old days? What if the call comes in as The Mayimbe is about to start?
Just three weeks ago, The Kid was in the company of another dear friend and he totally forgot the one performance he had longed for all his boring adult life.
Yes, he knew the man and the voice that gave us "Canadian Railroad Trilogy" and "Carefree Highway" was to perform that night in Houston, and he had planned to go. But The Kid forgot. The Kid from Higuey had envisioned singing along to all the tunes and impress the gringo audience, but... Sorry, Gordon.
The Mariposa Festival had him on schedule, but maybe a future Massey Hall appearance in shad's home turf would bring The Kid up for the first-ever semi-reunion of the great minds of DR1 (the past separate meetings with Chiri and Indie do not count - they were outmatched).
But there was no way The Kid was going to miss Antony Santos. Not now. Not ever. "Me muero por ti" was all The Kid wanted to hear. Well, not all, but considering that he knows every inflection of El Mayimbe's voice, every hiccup, and every shout-out all? en Providencia, there was no chance The Kid would miss the performance. On-call. No calls. Yet.
People-watching is a favorite pastime, and with a young Dominican crowd, the night would not disappoint. The happy people of the DR. The natural arrogance in display was counter-balanced by The Kid's Alexey Karamazovesque humility. Unless El Mayimbe sings my song.
The concert came and went, and no calls, y no me muero ni por ti ni por nadie. The Kid was not disappointed, but he surely wanted to hear that tune, a tune he can do better than Santos himself. Nino, The Kid's good friend from Monte Cristi, and a friend of a friend of a Santos bandmate, made it all worthwhile. We met THE MAN as he was departing, sexy ladies by his side. The not-so-photogenic Kid refused group pictures with the man and Nino and his beautiful wife. But a good time was had by all.
3:20 AM. The old and trusted, beaten-up Honda starts with no problems.
3:21 AM. "This is Jose, may I help you?"
"Jose, are you the on-call person for the Houston area? If so, we need you to go..."
