I Love Music

El Cielito Lindo 20
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

I Love Music

And Music loves you if you treat Her right. If you dance with Her, sing to Her, make love to Her, play with Her, cry and laugh and smile with Her.

She is more than mere amusement - she is inspiration, compassion, passion, consolation, excitement and a pure expression for the love of life.

Love Her and she will love you.

*

The photos in this set come from my surprise visit to Mom while she was visiting my sister in Pasadena, California (Los Angeles). For her birthday we took her to Cielito Lindo, one of the handful of restaurants featuring a traditional Mexican band called "Mariachis."

Many Americans are familiar with this beautiful, enchanting and lively form of music, but unfortunately it is often belittled by the context in which they enjoy their song: drunken revelry.

There is nothing wrong with drinking and listening, in fact it is almost a requirement. There are many, many songs in which the singer laments his lost love with another round of tequila.

That said, though, if one really listens, if one understands the beauty of the songs and the yearning and love and passion conveyed...well, it is simply one of the most beautiful experiences you'll likely ever have.

Many Mexican-Americans (American-Mexicans)will likely agree that listening to the rancheras and boleros of el mariachi is a sacred part of our culture. As all music should be...

Back to Normalcy, Alas

Please Be Advised (Life is Wonderful 1)
Originally uploaded by lorenzodom

Back to Normalcy, Alas
(Thursday, August 26, 2004)

6:30 am,
the bus pulls into port while
the white emergency lights
begin to flicker steadily;
people rush to disembark,
the stark prospects of
being stuck,
spurring them on.

escalator one
is not working,
escalator two,
equally stalled
the thought of
being trapped
still beckons
us all as we scurry
on through.

a somber man
comes over the intercom
echoing to announce:
”due to technical difficulties
there has been a temporary
loss of power here at Port Authority.”

the sight of the EXIT sign
offers respite, and drives me
in a beeline onward.

erroneously, believing
i might, for but a moment,
step into the pharmacy
for some water,
the piercing alarm
immediately ushers me
back out.

a station guard
argues with a paper pusher about
the stack of instant depression
that is blocking the way.

a turbaned taxi-driver
smiles at me
and prejudice riles suspicion.

all i want to do is get away,
but as i approach The Garden
it only gets worse; a blaring
fire engine burst passes,
and the police state parades
with gathering force
as it prepares for the farce
of the monkey king and
his horde.

good lord, i think
as armies of bullet-proof vests
stammer about the street
and i attempt refuge again
by diving into a market
for but a drink.

but i cannot escape,
for The Daily News
ominously reads:
ANARCHY, Inc.

(sigh)

huh, i wonder if i can get an appointment today?