Saturday, May 17, 2008

If I were to die outside of California and in the absence of loves ones, I would want to hear the following song in the background in my last two minutes alive…

The song speaks to me… I hear it as if I had been alive in the mid-60s… as if my youth ended decades ago. But in reality, it’s simply that the most important events in my life happened while living in California. “All the leaves are brown…”

Posted by at 8:41 pm [Permalink]

Friday, December 1, 2006

The paragraph below was inspired by Armando Manzanero’s “Somos Novios.” Which reminds me… I need to update my “About Me” page. 🙂 I’m a year older, and well on my way to being immensely happier.

We are in a relationship now. Filled with purity and sincerity, our endearment has brought forth a mutual understanding, which, in turn, will lead us to accomplish the greatest feat possible in two people’s lives — love. In the meantime, our feelings often drive us mad. And although this madness may at times cause us to become upset with each other for no apparent reason at all, it’s also true that we are always on the lookout for a dark, secluded spot, where all we want to do is kiss without saying a word. All this is so because we’re in a relationship now… and forever.

Posted by at 6:10 am [Permalink]

Saturday, September 30, 2006


Let him know about me. Start off by saying we met dancing and that there was something about that night that drove you crazy about me. Be blunt and say there are a thousand reasons why you chose me over him. Mention that I’m the better kisser and that I whisper things in your ear that he no longer does. End it all by telling him that you intend to see me tonight because in me you perceive a passion so ardent it can’t be put off. If after tonight you choose to go back to him and accept him with his faults, then so be it, just as long as we get to spend one more night together.

Dile (Don Omar)
Listen/Escuchar [Off]

Dile que bailando te conocí.
Dile que esta noche me quieres ver.
Cuéntale que beso mejor que él.
Dile que esta noche tú me vas a ver.

Cuéntale que te conocí bailando;
Cuéntale que soy mejor que él;
Cuéntale que te traigo loca;
Cuéntale que no lo quieres ver;

Que quizas fue la noche la que te traicionó.
o el perfume de mi piel lo que te cautivó;
que ya no tienes excusas pa´ tu traició;
que tuvistes mil motivos, que entre en razó;
que quizas te hablo al oido como ya él no;
o en mí arde el fuego de la pasión.
Ya no le mientas más y admite tu error
y si es por mí no pidas perdón.
Digo, queda de ti el que lo perdones,
el que lo olvides o lo abandones
porque con llorar no se compone.
Entonces a mi dame otra noche.

Otra, otra noche, otra
(Ay, que yo no te boté)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Aunque tú vuelvas con él)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Cuéntale, Cuéntale)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Que beso mejor que él)
Otra, otra noche, otra
(Cuéntale, Cuéntale)
Otra, otra noche, otra…

Posted by at 11:12 pm [Permalink]

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

On Sunday evening I caught a beautiful song on Cantando Por Un Sueño. (By the way, this is the only time I’ll ever admit to watching this trash of a show — Mexican TV’s answer to “American Idol.”) See if you can figure out what song it is just by reading my English translation of it.

Hint: It’s a song by “Sin Banderas.”


In my eyes, every assertion you make is nothing but the truth. When I hear you say that you are my ticket to heaven, I picture myself enjoying paradise with you. When your lips move to tell me that I’m all you have, I cry inside of me, and you become fully convinced that I sincerely consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the Earth. If you were to assert that the world’s oceans have ceased to be salty, I wouldn’t hesitate to spend an eternity ridding them of every grain of salt.

Unfortunately, every now and then I come to wonder if I should continue to act oblivious to your lies. Yes, all along I’ve been perfectly aware that you lie to my face, but I can’t bring myself to ask you to stop. Instead, when hearing your lies, I make my most gullible face so as to further encourage your lying ways. Your lies give me life, and that’s the reason why I pretend to be your gullible fool. Your lies paint for me a reality that makes me feel extremely grateful to be alive. You are the world’s biggest liar… and I love you for it.

Posted by at 8:18 pm [Permalink]

Sunday, May 28, 2006


I’m in no way right for you. We’re as different as autumn and spring. Whereas you’re selective in giving your love, I go for almost anyone who crosses my path. Breaking hearts is what I do, just like my father before me, and my grandfather before him. I conquer women only to remain with them long enough to fulfill my carnal needs. Once I’ve gotten what I want, I allow them to drift apart.

Drinking binges are the only constant in my disorderly life. Devoid of self-control, I’m voluntarily held captive by any place that features wine, women, and guitars. On the plus side, I do value friendships — well aware that today I might have riches, but I might need friends tomorrow when I’m only covered with rags. However, I’m not one to express my true feelings; hence, no one ever knows whether mine are tears of joy or tears of sorrow.

All in all, you’re better off without me.

Bohemio de Afición (Juan Valentin)
Listen/Escuchar [Off]

Aléjate de mí
no quiero que me quieras.
Yo soy otoño gris y tú eres primavera.
Tú llevas en tu ser pureza de adeveras;
en cambio yo me pierdo por cualquiera.

Aléjate de mí, yo en nada te convengo.
Mi mundo de ilusión es todo lo que tengo.
Infiel en el amor lo traigo de abolengo;
rompiendo corazones me entretengo!

Yo todo lo que tengo lo doy por las damas;
y nunca me entretengo a ver si me aman.
Les doy mi corazón tan solo una semana
y luego sin rencores dejo que se alejen si les da la gana.

Me quito la camisa por un buen amigo.
Hoy vivo millonario, mañana mendigo.
Mi dicha y mi dolor, a nadie se lo digo;
por eso nadie sabe cuando estoy gozando, cuando estoy herido.

Bohemio de afición, amigo de las farras;
de noche mi timón navega sin amarras.
El antro de lo peor me atrapa entre sus garras
si hay vino, si hay mujeres, y guitarras!

Yo todo lo que tengo lo doy por las damas;
y nunca me entretengo a ver si me aman.
Les doy mi corazón tan solo una semana
y luego sin rencores dejo que se alejen si les da la gana.

Me quito la camisa por un buen amigo
hoy vivo millonario, mañana un mendigo.
Mi dicha y mi dolor, a nadie se la digo;
por eso nadie sabe cuando estoy gozando, cuando estoy herido;
por eso nadie sabe cuando estoy gozando, cuando estoy herido…

Posted by at 9:36 pm [Permalink]

Monday, May 1, 2006

As I approached my jobsite, I noticed that all hispanic businesses were closed. I felt guilt. It was a moment of solidarity, and I wasn’t being part of it. As I came across students and coworkers, I kept my eyes down. I was ashamed to be at work. I know the plight of the undocumented immigrant… I lived it for more than a decade.


He packed a hat, a couple of shirts,  seven pictures, some advice, and a thousand memories.  He had to put aside his dream of succeeding without having to leave home.  He directed his pleas to the crucifix resting on a shelf; he asked the Lord to please take care of those he was about to leave behind.  With a smile clearly bathed with insincerity, he bid farewell to those he loved.

Somehow he managed to cross the border, but as soon as he set foot in his new home he became known as “wetback.”  Bound to be kept wet by his nostalgia-induced tears, the pitiful wetback carries a burden that nobody else would dare withstand.  He’s oppressed because he’s not able to produce a document that demonstrates his legal status.  Overwhelmed by his desire to return home one day, he can’t see a freeway in the distance without hoping it were the small trail he used to know back home.  Although he was promised by the heavens the unalienable right to seek happiness wherever it may be found, society seems determined to convince him that he’s an outcast, and, thus, unworthy — all because he refused to die of starvation at home.

Mojado (Ricardo Arjona)
Listen/Escuchar [Off]

Empacó un par de camisas, un sombrero,
su vocación de aventurero,
seis consejos, siete fotos, mil recuerdos.

Empacó sus ganas de quedarse,
su condición de transformarse
en el hombre que soñó
y no ha logrado.

Dijo adiós con una mueca disfrazada de sonrisa.
Y le suplicó a su Dios crucificado en la repisa
el resguardo de los suyos.
Y perforó la frontera como pudo.

Si la luna suave se desliza
por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa
comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.

El mojado tiene ganas de secarse.
El mojado está mojado
por las lágrimas que bota la nostalgia.
El mojado, el indocumentado
carga el bulto que el legal no cargaría ni obligado.

El suplicio de un papel lo ha convertido en fugitivo.
Y no es de aquí porque su nombre no aparece en los archivos,
ni es de allá porque se fue.
Si la luna suave se desliza por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.

Sabe a mentira tu verdad,
sabe a tristeza la ansiedad
de ver un freeway y soñar con la vereda que conduce hasta tu casa.

Mojado de tanto llorar
sabiendo que en algún lugar te espera un beso haciendo pausa desde el día en que te marchaste.

Si la luna suave se desliza por cualquier cornisa sin permiso alguno.
Porque el mojado precisa comprobar con visas que no es de neptuno.
Si la visa universal se extiende el día en que nacemosy caduca en la muerte.
Porque te persiguen mojado,
si el cónsul de los cielos
ya te dio permiso.

Posted by at 8:52 pm [Permalink]

Friday, April 21, 2006

It took the breaking of my heart for me to appreciate “Let It Be.” Sang by The Beatles, “Let It Be” carries a spiritual message that believers and non-believers alike can’t help but embrace. “Let it be” — a three-word sentence that carries so much wisdom.

Speaking of words of wisdom, today I found myself in the right place at the right time. A fifth grade student at the school where I work had his scooter confiscated by an after-school coach because she had seen it being used on campus. The child was playing soccer with me, and he was so focused in the game that he didn’t become aware of what was taking place. As the coach walked away with his scooter, I called him and advised him to catch up to her and calmly let her know that the scooter had been used by other students without his consent. So he did.

A couple of minutes later, I turned my attention away from the soccer game to see if the student had been successful. I caught him walking toward the water fountain — no scooter with him. He didn’t seem upset, so I continued playing soccer. I assumed they had come to a mutual agreement. A bit later, I looked for the child again, and this time he was sitting on a bench next to the water fountain. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s seeing a good child upset. I walked over to him and sat down. I asked him how it all turned out. He said that he had done as I told him, and the coach’s response was, “Doesn’t matter.”

Another person in my place would have considered approaching the coach, and in the presence of the child explain why he should have his scooter back. The after-school coach and I are not fond of each other, but that did not keep me from realizing that going the route described above would have put her in a tough situation because it would seem that I’m undermining her judgment and authority. Instead, I told him to forget about the scooter and continue playing soccer. Before giving him a chance to get up, I added that he would get his scooter no matter what — it would only be a matter of time. I concluded by assuring him that if by after-school Monday he still didn’t have his scooter, I would ask my boss for help. That did the trick. The child got up and played with joy.

When it was almost time for me to come home, I advised him once more. This time I told him to make sure to approach the coach before going home today and kindly ask, “When may I pick up my scooter?”

A few minutes later, prepared to come home and rest, I looked for my wallet and my keys, and to my shock and dismay, only my wallet remained. I asked the nearby students if they saw anyone taking my keys. Only one student actually cared to go beyond answering “no.” He looked over the spot where I usually keep my belongings and walked around with his eyes fixed on the ground, as if looking for something that was actually his. For that brief moment, neither soccer nor his scooter seemed of any importance to him. I was grateful and honored to see that the child was returning to me the amount of attention I had given him minutes before.

I left the playground to ask the coordinator of the after-school staff if anyone had brought my keys to her. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever see those keys again, so when I was asked by a child if I had lost my keys, I tried not to get excited. He told me some keys had been found and given to the coordinator. It was not until I held the keys that I felt complete relief. I thanked her and walked away.

In order to get to my car, I had to walk across the playground. From afar I caught my little friend about to exit the school. After it was all said and done, I felt great to know that we would both be getting home the same way we had arrived to school… me in my car, and David on his scooter.

Anyway…. sorry for having gone a bit off-topic. 🙂 Here’s my Spanish translation of “Let It Be”…


Mi fe en la Virgen Maria me ha sacado adelante en tiempos dificiles. Cuando me encuentro rodeado de la oscuridad, ella se para enfrente de mí para hacerme saber que puedo contar con su bendición. Gracias a ella, aún en las noches más nublosas una luz me alumbra hasta el amanecer. Al despertar, amanezco escuchando su melodiosa voz recitando palabras muy sabias… “No te mortifiques.”

Convencido estoy que cuando aquellos que padecen males depositen en ella la fe que he depositado yo, sus problemas desaparecerán, pues tal y como ella me lo ha aconsejado a mí, habrán dejado al mundo rodar.

Posted by at 10:04 pm [Permalink]

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

In the past, I have allowed women to easily rid themselves of me. For the first time in my life I feel signs of a willingness to put up a fight.


I sing next to your window in an attempt to make you aware of how I feel. Although I get no love from you, I can’t help loving you. People say I’m wasting my time, and that I should wake up from my dream. They say that in order to make you mine I must possess astronomical riches, and that in addition I must hand you the moon and the stars. Well, people are mistaken. I am not about to rid the sky of its moon and stars. Nor will I offer you any riches, but rest assured, though, that you will become mine… regardless of how much effort and time it takes.

Don’t get me wrong; I know you’re not the only woman out there. I’m also aware that plenty of them would become mine without me making the slightest effort. However, my heart has chosen you and I will not allow yet another of its desires to go unfulfilled. God knows my heart has suffered enough and its turn has come to experience joy. I leave it in your hands to make things right.

Serenata Huasteca (Jose Alfredo Jimenez)
MP3: Listen/Escuchar [Off]

Canto al pie de tu ventana
pa’ que sepas que te quiero.
Tú a mí no me quieres nada
pero yo por ti me muero.

Dicen que ando muy errado
que despierte de mi sueño,
pero se han equivocado
porque yo he de ser tu dueño.

Que voy a hacer
si deveras te quiero.
Ya te adoré
y olvidarte no puedo.

Dicen que pa’ conseguirte
necesito una fortuna;
que debo bajar del cielo
las estrellas y la luna.

Yo no bajaré la luna
ni las estrellas tampoco.
Y aunque no tengo fortuna
me querras poquito a poco.

Que voy a hacer
si deveras te quiero.
Ya te adoré
y olvidarte no puedo.

Yo sé que hay muchas mujeres
y que sobra quien me quiera.
Pero ninguna me importa
solo pienso en ti morena.

Mi corazón te ha escogido
y llorar no quiero verlo.
Ya el pobre mucho ha sufrido
ahora tienes que quererlo.

Que voy hacer
si deveras te quiero
Ya te adoré
y olvidarte no puedo.

Posted by at 5:56 pm [Permalink]

Sunday, November 6, 2005


A kiss from you is all it would take for me to lose my mind. Well, you drive me crazy as it is, but with that kiss you’ll make me completely yours. I will be your cat, your bodyguard, or your slave; whatever it takes to make you mine. I’m willing to keep you company at all times, just like a dog that follows his master around, waiting for a bit of love and attention. And when I finally get that love and attention, I’ll let you have the most beautiful flowers I can get ahold of, along with the small box where I’ve kept the one dream I thought I would never fulfill: having you as mine. Soon after that, atop the highest mountain, a man will be heard screaming at the top of his lungs that he loves you.

Dueño de Ti (Sergio Vega)
MP3: Listen/Escuchar [Off]

Voy a bendecir tu nombre
mi vida voy a ser el hombre
que grite a los cuatro vientos
te quiero!

Voy a regalarte rosas
hermosas voy a confesarte
preciosa que si tú me besas yo pierdo…
la razón.

Tu me vuelves loco, loco, loco
me tienes siempre a tu antojo
pues sabes que con solo un beso te adueñas,…
de mí!

Tú me matas con esa mirada
me tienes con cada palabra
que dices con cada segundo que paso…
junto a ti!

Si antes era un Don Juan ahora soy…
Soy tu esclavo, soy tu mandadero, soy
tu gato, soy tu pistolero, soy
lo que a ti se te antoje, pero no me dejes

Soy el perro que sigue tus pasos, el
mendigo que con solo un beso se,
convierte en mucho más que eso…
solo por ser el dueño de ti!

Voy a bendecir tu nombre
mi vida voy a ser el hombre
modelo que jamás te diga mentiras.

Voy a regalarte un cofre
pequeño donde yo he guardado
mis sueños de tenerte a ti a cada día…
vida mía!

Posted by at 2:23 pm [Permalink]

Sunday, October 23, 2005

I feel like buying her flowers and writing the following on the card.

When I think about a woman a lot I become indebted to her because she fills my heart with hope. In an attempt to pay my dues, here are some words for you:

An “I love you” carries no meaning unless it’s born in the soul and nurtured by the heart. If such is the case, on top of being meaningful, said thoughts are sweet, sincere and perduring. As sweet, sincere, and perduring as the thoughts I’ve conceived of you. As such, they are not to vanish as a pebble in the ocean, nor fade away as a result of us growing spatially apart. Neither are they to turn to ashes when put on fire, for the simple fact that they are more ardent than fire itself.

Having said that, I have something to ask: care to become my lover?

Quieres Ser Mi Amante? (Camilo Sesto)
MP3: Listen/Escuchar [Off]

Decir “te quiero”, decir “amor”,
no significa nada.
Las palabras sinceras, las que tienen valor,
son las que salen del alma.

Y en mi alma nacen
solo palabras blancas,
preguntas sin respuestas,
llenas de esperanza.

Un amor como el mío no se puede ahogar
como una piedra en un río.
Un amor como el mío no se puede acabar,
ni estando lejos te olvido,

Y no se puede quemar
porque está hecho de fuego.
Ni perder ni ganar,
porque este amor no es un juego.

Sueños que son amor,
son sueños que son dolor.
Y yo necesito saber
si quieres ser mi amante.

Es bonito reir y amar y vivir,
todo por alguien.
Y si es preciso sufrir y llorar o morir
por ese alguien.

Yo necesito saber
si quieres ser mi amante…
Yo necesito saber
si quieres ser mi amante

(5), (5)…

Posted by at 4:40 pm [Permalink]


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