WARNING!!! Long nostalgic post ahead. Mostly about music...
Unlike many of my friends, I had a decent high school experience and lately I've been missing it. More specifically, I miss my times as a Mariachi. For the first time I voluntarily studied the culture of my parents. I learned about the Aztecs and then the Mayans, and finally the mother culture of central America: the Olmecs. And I was in a PROFESSIONAL Mariachi!
We had four violins, two trumpets, one guitaron (bass), and two interchanging rhythm guys who switched off between guitar and vihuela (tenor guitar). I was one of the last two. And I was good. Hell I've never been a better musician as I was at the time. I could never sight faster than glacial speeds, but man if I listened to a song, I could figure out the chord progression in minutes. And once you got that down, you could build up a song pretty easy.
See, Mariachi is a series of musical memes, for lack of a better term. A series of runs, scales, phrases that can be put together like sonic Legos to create a song in it's most basic form. This is why Mariachi was and always will be the party music of Mexico and it's people. A veteran Mariachi group (and back then we had the balls to consider ourselves such), could take requests from a drunken crowd and as long as one person in the group knew the gist of a song, we could all follow along. Oh and that's with figuring out the funky key of the drunken patron who insists on serenading his girl... or mom. Moms get a lot of love in Mexican culture. And why not, right?
But the difference between our group and the vast numbers of groups that you can hire off the street on Alvera Street in L.A., or in the grand Plaza Garibaldi in Mexico (a place I still want to go on pilgrimage to), was that we wanted to be part of the new breed of stage/studio Mariachis. These guys, many of them Mexican-American, were down right orchestrated with elaborate arrangements and opera worthy vocals! They pumped out world acclaimed CD's and owned popular restaurants where they honed their craft and entertained you over dinner and drinks. The kind of place you'd wear a nice shirt to.
In the early to mid 2000's, I was able to drag my new friends to these places. Some of you may well remember. My friends would trust in me, dress up, and journey into Downtown L.A. to share something I held sacred. And whenever we'd do this, I always felt like "The Most Interesting Man In The World"! See even a few years removed from my Mariachi career, I still knew people. Still had connections. We would show up to the original "La Fonda" (when it was owned by the great director of the world famous "Mariachi Los Camperos") and the lobby would be crowded. I'd walk up to the desk, let them know what group I was in, who I knew, and the standing rule at that place was ALWAYS that Mariachi got seated first. It was a small community, and we took care of our own. I can even recall a couple of times when the guys on stage remembered me and tried to coax me onstage. Of course I would always refuse. There was no way I was going to sully their stage with my mediocrity! They of course would give me a little chuckle and continue to play... amazing. And of course during the numbers where they'd fan out into the crowd, one of the guys would always come over to our table and have a little chat with me. Those were great times.
Recently I tried to get a group like that together again, but it's a different time. Scheduling anything is like pulling teeth now. And so many of those friends that appreciated those outings (folks as white as snow, as dark as milk chocolate, and many shades in between) aren't around anymore. And those that are, we have busier lives.
I also thing people don't know what Mariachi is. I think most people think it's the loud, annoying music their Mexicans neighbors play into the night. An Spanish music is Mariachi to them. That it has drums and tubas and accordions. Well the last one is possible at times, but it's not a standard thing. The music is rich and as diverse as each of the states of Mexico. Each bringing it's own flavor to a down-home style. Like Chicago Blues, Southern Rock, West Coast Rap. And when it is performed by one of those world famous "stage" Mariachis, you can put it up there with any world-class orchestra.
Anyway, I miss those days. I miss the music. I miss the community. I miss being a part of a group. I'm sure my musician friends can back me up. Creating music with your friends is intoxicating. Performing for an energized crowd is intoxicating. How can you not smile when on the 30th run-through everything clicks and it sounds... like it was meant to be? Like such a beautiful thing had existed since the beginning of time, and it was us talking monkeys that had to find the secret path to the promised land?
Okay, at this point I've jumped all of Shark Week, let along just one shark. If anyone actually read through this whole thing, thank you. Please share what you feel. Just so I know who to show my appreciation to. Thanks!
Oh and sorry for what is probably a thousand typos...
We had four violins, two trumpets, one guitaron (bass), and two interchanging rhythm guys who switched off between guitar and vihuela (tenor guitar). I was one of the last two. And I was good. Hell I've never been a better musician as I was at the time. I could never sight faster than glacial speeds, but man if I listened to a song, I could figure out the chord progression in minutes. And once you got that down, you could build up a song pretty easy.
See, Mariachi is a series of musical memes, for lack of a better term. A series of runs, scales, phrases that can be put together like sonic Legos to create a song in it's most basic form. This is why Mariachi was and always will be the party music of Mexico and it's people. A veteran Mariachi group (and back then we had the balls to consider ourselves such), could take requests from a drunken crowd and as long as one person in the group knew the gist of a song, we could all follow along. Oh and that's with figuring out the funky key of the drunken patron who insists on serenading his girl... or mom. Moms get a lot of love in Mexican culture. And why not, right?
But the difference between our group and the vast numbers of groups that you can hire off the street on Alvera Street in L.A., or in the grand Plaza Garibaldi in Mexico (a place I still want to go on pilgrimage to), was that we wanted to be part of the new breed of stage/studio Mariachis. These guys, many of them Mexican-American, were down right orchestrated with elaborate arrangements and opera worthy vocals! They pumped out world acclaimed CD's and owned popular restaurants where they honed their craft and entertained you over dinner and drinks. The kind of place you'd wear a nice shirt to.
In the early to mid 2000's, I was able to drag my new friends to these places. Some of you may well remember. My friends would trust in me, dress up, and journey into Downtown L.A. to share something I held sacred. And whenever we'd do this, I always felt like "The Most Interesting Man In The World"! See even a few years removed from my Mariachi career, I still knew people. Still had connections. We would show up to the original "La Fonda" (when it was owned by the great director of the world famous "Mariachi Los Camperos") and the lobby would be crowded. I'd walk up to the desk, let them know what group I was in, who I knew, and the standing rule at that place was ALWAYS that Mariachi got seated first. It was a small community, and we took care of our own. I can even recall a couple of times when the guys on stage remembered me and tried to coax me onstage. Of course I would always refuse. There was no way I was going to sully their stage with my mediocrity! They of course would give me a little chuckle and continue to play... amazing. And of course during the numbers where they'd fan out into the crowd, one of the guys would always come over to our table and have a little chat with me. Those were great times.
Recently I tried to get a group like that together again, but it's a different time. Scheduling anything is like pulling teeth now. And so many of those friends that appreciated those outings (folks as white as snow, as dark as milk chocolate, and many shades in between) aren't around anymore. And those that are, we have busier lives.
I also thing people don't know what Mariachi is. I think most people think it's the loud, annoying music their Mexicans neighbors play into the night. An Spanish music is Mariachi to them. That it has drums and tubas and accordions. Well the last one is possible at times, but it's not a standard thing. The music is rich and as diverse as each of the states of Mexico. Each bringing it's own flavor to a down-home style. Like Chicago Blues, Southern Rock, West Coast Rap. And when it is performed by one of those world famous "stage" Mariachis, you can put it up there with any world-class orchestra.
Anyway, I miss those days. I miss the music. I miss the community. I miss being a part of a group. I'm sure my musician friends can back me up. Creating music with your friends is intoxicating. Performing for an energized crowd is intoxicating. How can you not smile when on the 30th run-through everything clicks and it sounds... like it was meant to be? Like such a beautiful thing had existed since the beginning of time, and it was us talking monkeys that had to find the secret path to the promised land?
Okay, at this point I've jumped all of Shark Week, let along just one shark. If anyone actually read through this whole thing, thank you. Please share what you feel. Just so I know who to show my appreciation to. Thanks!
Oh and sorry for what is probably a thousand typos...