RIP Compadre

As a kid I remember driving to Selma to visit my grandparents and cousins for the weekend. Often times we would start to sing along the way...it was often oldies, but I could vividly remember Freddy Fender playing on our radio. Not sure if my folks had the tape or it was what the radio was playing. Yet, what I do remember is that Freddy would have the whole car singing his songs especially, Wasted Days and Wasted Nights at the drop of a dime and we would sing it at the top of our lungs. Thus, I was sad to hear of Freddy's departure from mother earth.

Sitting here I can even remember my Mom singing this song while cooking and taking a second to grab me and spin me around the kitchen. Those things are what are gold and real and I'm so happy to have those memories. I'm currently listening to Freddy as my background music as I write this and I can picture myself in our small kitchen on Clifford Ave. I wish I had the chance to tell Freddy of these memories, I'm sure he would laugh and also be touched.

I'm sitting here laughing at the times my family had while driving to Selma. We didn't have much money, but as a family we were RICH. I remember there were those times when my folks were scraping by and at a drop of a dime my Dad and Mom would decide to make the three hour journey to visit family. I think those trips were for me and my sister to get out and see something different, not so much for themselves. Along the way on those trips my father would point out various points where he worked in the fields as a kid or a barn he painted with his uncle and brothers...I long for those days in many ways. We use to pull along the side of the road for fresh watermelon and grapes. Things back then were so grand for me and even here in an apartment five thousand miles away I can smell that Valley air.

In any case, I wanted to thank you Freddy for the good times you brought me and my family on those car rides and in the kitchen. Cuidate, Freddy...y viya con Dios, Compadre.