I know why I thought of this old song. It's March. And every year since 1978, it is this month when I think of my mother in clear, wistful terms. As a young child, I recall her moving across the apartment she lived in singing right along with balladeer Marty Robbins whenever this song would drift out of the radio. The memorable number brings to mind how she'd grab me up to dance with her, and how I'd gaze up to look at her in return (and in awe) as we'd meander about that small room that made up a home to her. As my wife reminds me every so often about my nostalgia gene, I know exactly who I inherited the trait from. When she heard the song, I could tell that part of my mother would be instantly transported back to her place of birth... back to Texas. The Tejano roots of the melody, and it's tale of star-crossed lovers, gave it a haunting quality to my mother then... and to her son now.
The rest of this post has been updated and moved over to my current blog, found here.
The rest of this post has been updated and moved over to my current blog, found here.
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