A double post today... to make up for lost time...
TWO OUT OF THREE AIN'T BAD!
Yesterday, I was reading for the first time in almost 17 years a “romantic” journal I kept with my wife when our girlfriend-boyfriend relationship was barely a year old, back in 1986. Boy!… what a different person I am today in almost every way... I don't recognize that kid anymore.
One of the major surprises I found is that in one of the entries I actually wrote
“te amo" at the end of a poem... yes... there was once I time when I actually wrote cheesy poetry... Actually, I still do sometimes... but almost nobody ever get to ever read. That is because, usually, I leave poetry to those who know how to write it... Girondo, Benedetti, Neruda, Frost, T.S Elliot or my good friend Alex Obando, among others. I started a new poetry anthology today... you can access it
here
What really shocked me is that I can not recall EVER uttering those words
("te amo") to anyone… not to my wife… not to anyone. The fact is that I have never liked that expression… to me, it sounds phoney… so, I refuse to use it.
I really feel more comfortable with
“te quiero”. To me, the meaning is exactly the same... maybe even a little more direct and passionate... and it doesn’t sound as trite as that other one. Ah… the endless twists and turns of Spanish!
Sincerely, I prefer English.
“I Love You” is such a powerful phrase. True, it is quite ambiguous in the sense that there are many kinds of love and it can be used in a number of circumstances – you may love Lucy, you may love pizza, you may love the sunshine in your face, you may love football, you may love the game, you may love the Beatles, you may love your mum, or you may love New York… you get the idea. But when said straight to someone eyes… there is absolutely no confusion!
But let’s go back to the flower garden that my dear native tongue is… Now, feeling more comfortable does not mean that I use “te quiero” lightly either. In fact, in my entire life I have only said
“te quiero” to two people… nothing more.
But let me redeem myself here…
Once I start saying
“te quiero” to a person, I can not stop…. I end up saying it almost every minute… maybe as a constant remainder to that person of what I feel… to wipe up any insecurities and the such… it’s just like when I start making my evil laugh or when I play “two dumb guys” with my friend Chico Vargas… once you start, you just can’t stop….
One final note… I just did some good old fashion Internet research… I typed in the phrase
“te quiero” in Google – the best damn search engine ever made – and got 114.000 hits… the phrase
“te amo” got 82.600…. mmm… food for thought…
Maybe... there are quite a number of people out there who feel like I do about
"te amo" ...
Maybe...
"te quiero" is just more commercialized...
Maybe... it's time to find a brand new expression...
By the way…
“I love you” got more than a million hits. Wonder what that means.
MEET MY NEW FRIEND JACK
My dad turned 72 this weekend. As always, there were a bunch of celebrations that ran over the course of 4 days… an event my mom likes to call “festejos patronales”. The festivities got started on Thursday evening when my dad had drinks and dinner with the “kids” (his high-school chums… at least, those few who still remain). Then, on Friday evening, we had a proper dinner with all my aunts and uncles and my dad got the precious opportunity to show off his grandson. On Saturday evening, my uncles and aunts returned with some of my cousins for a casual night of drinking and discussing politics. These are the only events in my family I actually enjoy attending because –as the perennial designated bartender, I get to show off my skills… plus, some of the stories they tell are just so damn entertaining.
My bartending specialty – as my bohemian friends from yore all did verify more than once – is the Bloody Mary. I have roamed Bourbon Street and the rest of the French Quarter in New Orleans endlessly searching for the one true Bloody Mary recipe… and in my not so humble opinion… my Marys and variations (the Beefamato, the Bloody Maria, and my favorite – The Spicy Clamato) all kick ass. But it doesn’t just end there… I can diversify… I do a more than acceptable Long Island Iced Tea, a pumped-up Vodka Martini (shaken, not stirred – of course), an earth-shaking but pricey Orgasm and all the other less complicated cocktails.
My dad usually has a very well stocked bar with everything from Pisco to Rum, but he always forgets to get the mixers and chasers. So, on this particular evening, I had only Coke, Ginger Ale and Tonic Water to work with. Would you believe that he even forgot his precious Soda Water? One of my uncles always drinks Gin & Tonic – so we had no problem there. But all the others, drink Whiskey & Soda… so I had to become creative. I served them all Scotch & Gingers… a type of Highball famous in Great Britain… and they all loved it. I tasted it and it wasn’t that bad… considering that I don’t really like blended Scotches that much. But then… at the bottom of the bar cabinet… I found an old friend beckoning me… a full bottle of Jack Daniels! …mmm... a thought rapidly crossed my mind: Jack & Coke, the classic Rock’n’Roll drink. When I looked up, I had downed almost half a bottle by myself… maybe trying to drown all my pains and sorrows… and when you do that.. you need music!
My favorite songs to get drunk to (in no particular order): White Shade of Pale, Sympathy for the Devil, Roadhouse Blues, Down on the Corner, The Dark Side of the Moon album (the whole thing), American Pie… but once you get really drunk… only Country music would do… Garth Brooks, Highwaymen, Dixie Chicks, Eagles, Lynard Skynard, Kenny Rogers, Alan Jackson, Brooks & Dunn… whatever… thankfully, my dad loves it too.
The festivities ended on Sunday with lunch at a fancy Italian restaurant – which to me only meant one thing: more Jack & Coke! I seldom have more than one drink with Sunday lunch, but today I made an exception – for Jack.
I have a new friend and his name is Jack.
