Music…

DJ Play A Christmas Song

Christmas

Cher
and Words

No one on the streets and the city is quiet
I should be asleep by the heat of the fire
But I′m on my way out
And I’m gonna stay out

I can feel the pulse as I walk in the door
Take me through the crowd to the middle of the floor
The red and the green lights
Are hitting me just right

Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.


From my earliest memory, my dad ran his own restaurant.  We lived in Puerto Rico, and he converted the front end of the residence, in the middle of our street, into a restaurant.  This means that my family has been in the service industry my entire life.  Most people have fond memories of Christmas Day.  They remember Christmas Day traditions with their families, with little else to do.  After all, most businesses close on Christmas Day.  Chinese restaurants do not close on Christmas Day.  My dad didn’t close our restaurant on Christmas Day.

Once my dad passed away, we moved to Fort Lauderdale, Florida.  My mom didn’t speak English and had only a limited education.  She took on work as a seamstress and found side jobs in the kitchens of Chinese restaurants.  However, the rest of my siblings and I started work at an early age.  I started working at the age of twelve by washing dishes.  My sisters similarly worked in the food industry.  In fact, my mom ran another restaurant in Florida.

Continue reading “Another holiday”

Music…

Un Gato en la Oscuridad

Un Gato en la Oscuridad

Robert Carlos
and Words

Cuando era un chiquillo, qué alegría
Jugando a la guerra, noche y día
Saltando una verja, verte a ti y así
En tus ojos, algo nuevo descubrir

Las rosas decían que eras mía
Y un gato me hacía compañía
Desde que me dejaste, yo no sé por qué
La ventana es más grande sin tu amor

Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.


Tonight, I’m filled with nostalgia; I’m living a memory.  My dad stops by the side of the road off the Puerto Rican beach near a vendor selling food.  They sell chicken roasted on the spit right on the beach.  Furthermore, they reconfigured their old modified van to grind long stalks of sugar cane into a nectar called guarapo. I fill my mouth with chunks of chicken, washed down with that strangely sweet drink.  The aroma of that simple food and the unmistakable smell of the sea capture that moment better than a photograph.

The soft sounds of the palm trees rustling in the wind and waves crashing into the sandy shore perk my ears.  The bright light of the tropical sun bleaches nearly everything in sight; that same sun reflects off the sand and shimmering water.  As that wind blows, it tickles the skin, though the warmth of the sun feels like a caring embrace.  I can barely believe that was decades ago.

Continue reading “An ode to that cat in the darkness”