I fell in love with a Mexican gal one time. At least I think I did, the details are a still a little fuzzy. There’s not enough space here, or anywhere really, to tell the whole story, but suffice it to say, it happened in the middle of a coming of age story starring yours truly and 3 fellow friends from Bucklin. The first night of the story involves seeing AC/DC in Dallas and a waitress from Hooters that was high and quite shapely. (No, she’s not the love interest, although she was for another one of the party) The last night of the trip involved Ragweed and Boland at Stephenville and a birthday party in Fort Worth for a girl that was drunk and ugly. (No, she’s not the love interest, although she was for another one of the party) No, my love interest happened on the middle night, which involved two of our party getting kicked out of Billy Bob’s, three of us getting drunk, the only one that knew how to get back to our hotel passing out, leaving the one “non-drunk” lost somewhere in Mesquite. (By the way, our hotel was in Irving, for those that don’t know your Dallas/Fort Worth geography, Mesquite is not on a straight line between Fort Worth and Irving, in fact, it’s quite the opposite) Anyway, the facts as I remember them, go something like this. We strolled into Billy Bob’s on a typical north Texas Friday evening, still on a high from the previous nights AC/DC concert and the breakfast from the Waffle House earlier that day. (The Waffle House has wonderful pancakes) Since two of our party wasn’t the magical age of 21 yet, one of the older members of the party bought one of the younger members a beer. Before he could take two swigs of the nectar of the Rockies, the bouncers were on him like frat guys on a drunk chick. By our wits, we avoided the Fort Worth jail, but we couldn’t go back in Billy Bob’s. So we split up in pairs and tried our luck at other hot spots in the old Cowtown. This is where things start getting fuzzy, see I had maybe one or two… or a dozen… heck I don’t know, a bunch of beers, anyway that’s not the point, the point is that eventually, last call comes and we have to get back to the hotel somehow, Motel 6, to be exact, oh yeah, we went first class all the way on this trip. As I mentioned, 3 of us had partaken in adult beverages, while one had not. So it was his job to round us all up and drive to the hotel. I can only imagine that his job was something like herding cats. While one guy was in the middle of the street being drunk, and another was setting up a date with the ugly chick for the next night, I was sitting on someone’s, I’m not sure who’s, tailgate hitting on some Mexican gal. With my broken Spanish and her broken English, it was determined that I would like to “make out,” while she was looking for a husband, I think. Anyway, the non-drunk got us all in the car before we could find a justice of the peace, but I did get a little smoochie smoochie, before he did. We all compared notes the next day at the IHOP, who, by the way, make some wonderful waffles, and that is the story that we came up with. At least the parts that pertain here, there was more that happened, but the point is, I’ll never see my Mexican love again. So I can relate to Brian Burns new CD, Border Radio, because he has several songs about love and lost love with beautiful Mexican gals.
This is a very cool CD that at times sounds like country, mariachi, big band, honky tonk or rock music, but no matter which style it takes, it’s all good. The first song is Del Rio. The best way I can think of describing this song is to think of New York, New York, only with Margaritas and Senoritas, instead of Broadway. Great songs about Mexican women include Border Blues, Dark Spanish Eyes, Rose of the San Joaquin and Never Goin’ Back to Mexico. The last song has a line that I could’ve sworn the girl I talked about above said to me. “Gringo boy, well, you’re cute from a distance.” Crying on the Shoulder of the Road is one of those classic country tunes.
I don’t know where tomorrow leads,
Tonight it’s just the tequila and me,
Crying on the shoulder of the road.
Another line that hit real close to home for me was on Bicycling in a Border Town, “I love mankind, man, it’s people I hate.” I might adopt that as my slogan. My favorite song on this CD is Rainin’ in Juarez. Some of the best writing I’ve heard in quite some time. Of course that was my favorite, till I listened to Down the Rio Grande. But that’s how this CD is, once you think you have a favorite picked out, another comes along, and suddenly, that’s your new favorite. I also love Sagebrush Symphony. This is a song for those like me that love the wide-open spaces and the lack of people that the American west provides. Also, there’s a great ghost track that is well worth the wait. It somehow rhymes Pico De Gallo with try-o, by-o, Ohio, Hawaii Five-o along with others. According to the linear notes, Brian Burns not only plays the guitar, bass, drums and other traditional instruments, but he also plays, among other things, the shampoo bottle, needle-nose pliers, lampshade, fan belt and the phillips screwdriver.
So what have we learned today?
- Letting four southwest Kansas boys lose on north Texas, is bad, but not nearly as destructive as the Dallas Cowboys in the off season
- When at the Waffle House, try the pancakes
- Brian Burns is a multi-talented musician
- When at IHOP, try the waffles
- I have a new slogan
- And this is my story, and I’m sticking to it, no matter what anyone else says.
I’ll give this CD 5 out or 5 lost side trips through Mesquite, TX.