Tejano remix

I have stuff to say tomorrow about today's visit with Amos' orthotist, but in the meantime, here is a wee snippet of our experience in Baja Fresh after the appointment.

We ordered our tasty vittles (fish tacos for me - mmm) and sat in the empty restaurant for a nosh. Soon, Phil and I silently looked at each other with perplexed faces. The music caught our attention in the silliest of ways. All of the songs were in Spanish. Granted, this isn't an odd situation for a Mexican restaurant, but it was the vast array of songs that caused our eyebrows to raise and lower in rapid fashion.

Now, I'm no stranger to Tejano music. I lived in San Antonio and the surrounding area for many, many years. I've been to NIOSA (Night in Old San Antonio) and Fiesta many times. I know the look, the sound, and knew exactly what they meant when I saw people drive by with shoe polish on their car windows proclaiming, "Viva Selena!"

It's just... I don't think I've ever been exposed to "Tejano Stars Sing Your Favorite Hits From Today and Yesterday."

Observe.


First song up: some sort of Spanish version of a modern rock song. We chuckled a bit to ourselves as the guitars went weeeraaaaar! raaaawr! nnnnnnnnraaaaar! while guided by the singer's rhymes. I dare say it was Mexican Creed.

Second song: We called it Flock of Chihuahuas. It was a crazy new wave Spanish song (or "nuevo wavo", as Phil called it) that could have been a moody accompaniment to a Molly Ringwald teen angst movie (dubbed in Spanish, of course). I told Phil through my chuckles, "I'm really trying to figure out what these guys look like while singing this song." His answer: "I think they are wearing plaid shirts, Wranglers, and cowboy hats that are covering a big shock of new wave hair and sad emo faces."

Third song: I called it Toad the Wet Tejano. It was folksy, 90s college radio rocksy stuff. Much angst. It would have fit into a triple bill with Gin Blossoms and Counting Crows. Except, they would have a shock of sorta long and unkempt hair under the cowboy hats, the plaid shirts wouldn't be tucked in, and the Wranglers would have the knees worn out.


Sometime during the nuevo wavo song, a fellow walked in while talking on his cellphone. He was loud, obnoxious, and all of the other descriptions that go along with people who yell into their phones in public. However, Phil and I were both struck with snorts and giggles once we eyeballed his getup. He was wearing a white, stretchy belt. A dirty, white stretchy belt. While the Flock of Chihuahuas song played. It was like getting slapped in the face with an Alice in Wonderland version of the 80s. We were convinced that we were in some sort of alternative universe, punctuated with good salsa and fish tacos.

So, if you ever happen to visit Baja Fresh, I hope you will report back to me your own strange Tejano-bastardized findings. Or, if you are even more savvy, please let me know where I can find this album of Tejano-ish hits. I really want to play it at our next party.