Ricky Martin

“Mommy, it’s Ricky Martin.
And he’s dancing.
And he’s wearing a kimono.
And silk gauchos.”
“Picture, please.”
Tonight was the Ricky Martin concert after the rodeo. When the full sounds of “Livin’ la vida loca” burst forth from the darkness with sparkler flames and party lights, the place went wild, myself included. And then, he was singing… he was singing these words I had forgotten that I knew prectically perfectly – as perfectly as we could get back in the pre-Internet days, if we didn’t have a copy of the CD.
And then he was dancing on the parts where he had singing breaks.
I kid you not, not even halfway through the song, I had streams of tears rolling down my face, absolutely unanticipated, unexpected. I didnt even notice I was crying until I felt a downward movement of water on the lower half of my cheeks.
But, I suppose, it makes sense. That song and the period of my life that goes with my learning its words and notes so well, those were huge for me. I remember watching Ricky Martin on MTV when I was at my brothers’ dad’s house. I remember dancing around in the living room to this song in particular on multiple occasions. I remember trying to figure out what “mocha” meant, and how it connected to a skin color.
But I never once considered any possibility of seeing Ricky Martin in real life. Let alone hearing him sing or seeing him dance. It was so far out of the realm of possibility. Ricky Martin was, to me, more along the lines of history. He was like the president or Julius Caesar. He was a real person, but not one who ever would be real to me, not the way people in my life are real to me.
And, suddenly, years and years after his initial fame and my foundation of gratitide for him and his music, he pops up… and he is accessible. I get to see THE REAL RICKY MARTIN, right there… singing, dancing, doing costume changes (including a vest that was all lace on the back with a pair of pants that had half of a kilt-like skirt… and no shirt)… looking spectacular, by the way, and bringing to life a dream I had never even known to dream.
Gracias, Ricky Martin, for all you do and all you share with the world. And thank you for releasing that book entitled “Yo” that I originally thoight was in English, and so thought you were unexpectedly thug. That still gives me a good laugh.
And thank you, God, for this spectacular blessing. Please, guide me to be your love. In your name, I pray. Amen.
Post-a-day 2022
(Still had to think about it!)

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