…………Cat Stevens, Otis Redding, Classic Beatles, the Stones and Simon and Garfunkel.  I mean, pulleeez………….Mariachi?

What are they thinking?

I’ll give you Margaritas, guacamole, hand-weaving and even cerveza and limes.  I’ll even throw in salsa, burritos and re-fried beans.  Hell, I like cactus, dessert, volcanoes and crazy bus-rides in baubled-and-chromed  chicken buses.  But, c’mon?  Mariachi?!

I mean, can we talk?  Ya gotta tell the truth, don’t ya? Tell it like it is- ya gotta do that!!  And only Latin America’s Santana got even close to good music . 

Damn!

Help me out here………….

Most tourists are afraid of Federales and banditos.  I live in fear of Mariachi bands.  C’mon!  Tell the truth. You, too, right?  It’s torture, right?

Am I alone on this?

Or am I like my daughter who has her own special curses.  She can’t abide the presence of a painted-face, circus-type clown.  Honest.  She has clownaphobia (coulrophobia).  Makes her crazy.

“Geez, is it just me or are circus clowns not really, really, really creepy?  I mean Chucky was a clown, right?  They are like psychos in heavy make-up.  What’s funny about that?  Keep ’em away from me!” 

You say ‘clown’, I say ‘Mariachi’.  Same visceral response – fear and loathing.  Emphasis on the latter.

They should fear me!

Sheesh!