El músico (Pomona, California)
When I was about 6 years old, my dad got out his guitar and made me learn a Mexican song with him. He translated the words and explained their meanings. All I wanted to do was play, but wasn’t as resistant as little Selena in the movie. I thought it was cool that my dad was teaching me something and that I’d be singing in a talent show.
The show came and went. I sang in front of a big audience in a white dress with blue trim. I looked muy Mexicana. I sang some Ramón Ayala song. I think it was Bonita Finca de Adobe… o Vestida de Color de Rosa. Danny, my older brother, sang in a brown traje de charro. I don’t know what he sang, but it was probably a ranchera. It was the start of several years of enjoying being in front of a crowd to entertain.
I have an affinity for people with musical talents. They remind me of the people I love the most, my family, and of countless memories where the only thing I can remember is the song we were singing, playing or dancing to.