1) My wife Tracey’s maiden name is Gardel. Carlos Gardel (no relationship to which she can attest, as he had no legal children) was the greatest tango singer of all time and is considered the father of tango. Whenever we pass through customs and they see her name, the civil authority wink.
2) No one can pinpoint the exact date for the birth of tango in BA, but it was originally associated with the bohemian life of bordello brawls and compadritos-knife weilding, womanizing thugs. Men danced with other men or with prostitutes, as no self-respecting catholic woman would dance in public. Often, two men would fight to their death for a dance. Fortunately, my wife is an atheist, but my motto is still dance like you live.
3) Tango’s passion and sensuality walk side by side with sadness, but my emotions, drawn to a level of unbearable intensity, become consumed by the disquieting sense of inevitiabilty when I dance. So goes the Zen of Tango.
4) I’ve been to three milongas so far in BA and they were all so packed that you couldn’t move on the dance floor. I miss Maggie’s Wednesday night milonga at Billys Lafayette Grill, where I am the king Porteno and can glide to my heart’s content
5) My three son’s have graced me with their company at the milonga, but still prefer the bounce of their own rock and roll. I quess none will be dancing dentists
6) Today I tried on the hat that Carlos Gardel gave to his friend the little bird. The hat was too small but the little bird, who flew the nest fifty years ago has a small museum that houses a drand collection of old records. I got a private tour of the bed he slept in