Reconciliation

As I stood in the supermarket reading labels today, I noticed that Barbra Streisand was singing “Evergreen” on the musak and I realized that I had to make a decision: (besides the fact that I hate Barbra Streisand) Am I going to go nuts every time I hear American music or am I just going to roll with it? Felipe nodded toward the wine section and said “just go with it, you uptight Americano”, so I bought some cabernet and provisions for lunch and went home.

Passing through the Puerta del Sol, I decided to be okay with the Californication of Madrid. I noticed that Minnie Mouse had rather muscular legs today in those black tights, and walked more like a bouncer than Señorita Mini. I waved to Sponge Bob. I stopped to listen to the mariachis ... they’re actually very popular with the locals ... and I stopped to take a quick video of people dancing while they sang “La Bamba”. My first thought was: if you guys are going to come over here and crush my pre-conceived stereotypes, can’t you at least play authentic Mexican music and not Ritchie Valens? Does everyone have to sell out to American pop culture? Gimme that damn microphone …. you’re not even doing it right! Down boy, said Felipe; you’re only a block from home ...

One thing I appreciated in the plaza, however, was a street performer who was utterly Spanish. He was a modern interpretation of Christ, dressed in skin-tight jeans and contemporary shirt, with long hair, a crown of thorns, carrying a big cross, and his entire person was painted in silver metallic paint. He stood perfectly still as a statue with a hat on the ground for tips. Spain has a complicated relationship with Catholicism. On the one hand,

Spaniards absolutely revere the Church, but on the other, hardly anyone goes to mass anymore. One could write an entire dissertation of the subject. Anyway, my sense of appreciation for the new-age Christ-form was jolted when, while taking a break, our savior cat-called a hot señorita walking by, while she ignored him. I just had to laugh; he was the very embodiment of enigmatic España. You just can't make this stuff up. Sa-al-ve, sa-al-ve, sa-al-ve Re-gi-na …..