A friend celebrated her 70-something birthday recently, and a group of us took her out to brunch, with mariachis included.
Again I was reminded of how much I enjoy watching people listen to mariachi music. Yes, I did say “enjoy watching people listen.” I’m not a mariachi expert by any stretch of the imagination. I’ve got the couple of songs I like, but I don’t know the repertoire. It is a fault I try to address by committing to memory new songs whenever I can remember them.
But at the brunch, I watched my friend enjoy the mariachis. She listened to the music, and smiled, not an “I’m enjoying this moment now” smile, but a smile that revealed she was in a different place in time. It could have been a dance in her pueblo, surrounded by sisters and friends. It could have been a morning birthday serenade of her youth.
It was definitely a time before the U.S., before kids, when she was (I’m sure) mischievous and a great dancer.
The whole scene just reminded me how much I enjoying watching music and made me wonder if I get the same funny look on my face when anything 80s plays.