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Maybe it was the fact that I have listened to his songs my entire life and am still able to sing them despite my inability to carry on a conversation in Spanish, or maybe it was the realization of being in the presence of a living legend.
Or maybe it was because he sounded so much better live than any CD I have ever heard.
Maybe it was the large amounts of alcohol we consumed at Cazuelas Mary before the concert (remember to sip Gran Patron — don’t shoot it).
Or maybe it was the fact that this would be his final year performing and there will be no “old-school” Reys de Rancheras to fill his mighty boots ...
Whatever the case may be, when Chente’s powerful voice traveled through my ears at his concert, I cried.
I cried hard and often throughout that night. I did not care who saw me or if I had mocos smeared across my face.
Hearing those songs Saturday filled me up with emotion from blessed memories throughout my life; memories shared with people I...
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