the good life
I live my life in a multi cultural atmosphere…..meaning, as you might know, I married a Latina. A Colombian girl if specifics mean anything and with that marriage comes all the different customs, foods, habits, idiosyncrasies…..and thought processes.We had some friends for a barbecue this weekend….Colombian friends and a good time was had by all. I’m pleased about this as there was a time some years back when this particular Gringo was somewhat frowned upon by this particular group. I think my famous rib eyes and meat dripping off the bone ribs being the number one reason I could be tolerated after a particular incident. … I’ll try to explain.
You see, a large gathering of the wife’s friends at our place meant total immersion into the language, the incessant music and of course a different manner of thinking. I found that copious amounts of my favorite adult beverages often made things go somewhat ….well ,smoother. It certainly improved my Spanish grammar and I was usually more than fluent come the evenings end. One particular all day rib fest I found myself out on the lanai with a large gathering of the “Spanish Wives Club” and made great sport in instigating a rib eating contest. It was an instant success as one lady after another placed an entire rib in her mouth and attempted to be the one who could glean every last morsel as the bone was removed. A good time was being had by all and I must confess to seeing an obscene beauty in all of this.
If Norman Rockwell was still alive we might well be viewing an entirely different concept of Americana….for sure the prices of his work would be higher. But alas the Latino husbands at the party had absolutely no concept of the new age Americana Norman Rockwell painting they witnessed…..they were pissed.
This small incident forced me to slink off and get acquainted with one of the girls father who was here on a three week visit. We did enjoy each others company immensely…right up until they found him out at the end of my driveway singing Colombian folk tunes with a donation hat at his feet. I am pleased to say the old man went home with a memory his wife will never let him forget and pleased even more that the gang has forgiven my past….and why wouldn’t they….I’ve been a good boy…and I still make great ribs
