Tequila!

I did find something to buy yesterday at Fuengirola’s Saturday Market. Heading through the main avenue — after first hearing Pseudo-Peruvian Pan Flutes and then “Native American” Pan Flutes (which included two authentic vinyl teepees as part of the second display) — I heard some really good music. On guitar, Pablo Pierángeli. On keyboard, Lucho Serenelli. They call themselves “Mitá i Mitá.” (I don’t know what that means exactly; perhaps “Measure by Measure.” Maybe you know?) They say they play Blues and Surf Rock.

MITÁ I MITÁ.  SURF ROCK FUENGIROLA.

Lucho and Pablo do eventually sing on my video (below). The intro got dragged out just a bit. It’s worth the wait. (Someone wanted to buy their CD but didn’t know what “self-service” meant). After enjoying Mitá i Mitá’s music for 15 minutes, I ended up of course buying the CD (no assistance required). At €5, a much better investment, I think, than that nutcracker I told you about yesterday (click to see that).

The Virgin of Tequila
My one experience with tequila? I was 19, at university, and sharing a 5-bedroom house with four other guys. One of the guys had an out-of-town girlfriend, Janie, who came up for the weekend. Janie brought a bottle of tequila. No one else was home, so we (both tequila virgins) decided to see what it was like. Salt, limes, tequila, shot glasses. All set.

MY OLD TEQUILA HOME OFF CAMPUS.
BUILT IN THE 1870s  (AND NOT HISTORICALLY MAINTAINED).

First shots. “I don’t feel a thing. What about you?” “Nothing.”

Third shots. “Still nothing.” “I don’t know why everyone makes such a big deal about this stuff.”

Fourth shots. Together, “Tequila!”

By the time we finished our fifth shots (or seventh or eleventeenth, I’m not quite sure), everyone else had come home. Another roommate had a girlfriend from Colombia. (She told me the next day that we had a great conversation. She also told me she had no idea I spoke such fluent Spanish. Maybe I should drink more tequila. Nope!)

Finally, empty bottle. “I don’t feel very well…” “Me neither.”

A week later. Living on rice and still recovering from the worst hangover of my life (and there have been many).

All these years later: I can’t stand even the smell of tequila.

But I still like the song. Such profound lyrics. Tequila!

Author: Moving with Mitchell

From Brooklyn, New York; to North Massapequa; back to Brooklyn; Brockport, New York; back to Brooklyn... To Boston, Massachusetts, where I met Jerry... To Marina del Rey, California; Washington, DC; New Haven and Guilford, Connecticut; San Diego, San Francisco, Palm Springs, and Santa Barbara, California; Las Vegas, Nevada; Irvine, California; Sevilla, Spain. And Fuengirola, Málaga..

Share your thoughts and experiences. It's always nice to know I'm not alone.