I hear music

I heard my first live mariachi band yesterday.

No, I haven't been living under a rock, thank you. My wife was amazed I'd never experienced the Mexican tradition before.

You see, there weren't a whole lot of mariachi bands in Western New York. The steel mills of Buffalo attracked German, Polish, Eastern European and African American people. I've experienced cultural events from those groups, and attended Native American ceremonies, but the four-part harmonies and strumming of a mariachi group never made it through the blizzards of my youth.

Sunday, my youngest daughter attended a birthday party for a classmate at his home. It was a blast! Her friend's uncle was part of a mariachi band and the group interacted smoothly with the crowd -- like they were family or something.

The woman we sat with shared her memories of the mariachi tradition and what it was like growing up in Fennville in the 1940s and 1950s. Fennville had a movie theater? Spanish movie nights?

Tonight's a more traditional birthday party -- we're off to Chuck E. Cheese for another party.

Thought: At 6 years old, my daughter has a busier social life than I do.