SOUNDTRACK: LOS LOBOS “Sabor a Mi” (1978)
The other song from the Los Lobos debut album that nick Hornby mentioned was ” “Sabor a Mí” a beautiful acoustic bolero.
The rhythm is slow and stately, with nice use of an upright bass. The guitars sound great–very clean and precise with no fuzz or distortion or loose sloppy playing. This is respectful playing of a traditional song.
The vocals are by Cesar Rosas and some are wonderfully romantic sounding. The solos are really great too.
I’m glad that Los Lobos branched out into so much diverse music over their career, but their early traditional songs are lovely.
[READ: September 15, 2019] “The Most Basic Plan”
In this story a man has traveled to Florida to be with his dying mother.
There was no question that she was dying and he had made appointments at local funeral homes. He was itching to get away–he didn’t want to be late on Friday, as it would need to be rescheduled on Monday.
He fed her ice chips–it was all he could do for her. He looked through her things–her photos–and remembered the past. But the present could not be halted.
He asked the young woman on duty to look after his mother. She was new and was clearly afraid of his dying mother. She resented him and he assured her that he would be back soon.
He had rented a car at the airport, but once he got out into the warm air, he returned the car and requested a convertible Miata. It was overpriced and, given the occasion, maybe a little festive, but he appreciated it.
He had visited four funeral homes and was shocked at the disparity of prices. He knew his mother would applaud his frugality. He wanted cremation, placement of ashes in a generic container and filing of death certificates, that was all. Prices ranged from eleven hundred to eighteen hundred.
The latest place was the fanciest so far. The woman was very nice. She offered him a beer. He found her very appealing. He noticed no ring, he admired the way her breasts swelled the fabric of her blouse. They wanted $2,300.
They talked about various things while they drank and he believed they were having a parallel conversation
Him: I do like the way you talk.
Her: I know you do, what else do you like?
Him: I like your mouth and how you look at me over the glass when you drink your beer.
Her: I have my momentary weakness and I think you may be one of them.
He sensed this but discounted it as wishful thinking and did not want to be a distasteful cliche.
When he returned he was sure, given the commotion, that his mother had died and he had missed it.
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