Alli en Laredo (Rene y Rene)

Recently, I spent the better half of an afternoon going over my father's LP records. His eclectic tastes range from your standard Tin Tan and Pedro Infante material to The Platters, Los Hooligans and Ray Coniff.

When I was a child, I always knew when he had drank one too many cold Shlitz's because he would get home and slam his vintage records on our Sears brand turntable and crank the volume up loud enough to scare away his buzz. On nights when he was really loaded, "Smoke gets in your Eyes" by the Platters, was his song of choice.

On other nights, especially on payday Fridays, he would spin  Los Apson Records and drink Miller HighLife, leaving behind Schltiz for days of despair. My dad was an elitist. I especially liked Los Apson because they played some sweet rock and roll covers, my favorite being their take of "Satisfaction" by the Rolling Stones.

But it was on mellow nights, after coming home from a Texas Ranger's win, that he would play Rene y Rene. He spoke endlessly about them so much, that I used to think he was traveling with them as a groupie or something.  That was sometime in the late 80s, in days so far and long ago that my mother still made flour tortillas by hand (damn you Sandy's!).

So it was, several days ago that I came across an old LP of Rene y Rene and spun it on my Technics turntable and heard that music from long ago, that music from cold,rainy Dallas winters, when my childhood home smelled of freshly made flour tortillas and my half-finished homework was spread across the table.

It's strange how a simple song can take you traveling through time, like a musical Marty McFly DeLorean, complete with enough nostalgic images to fulfill a Ken Burns documentary.

So I leave you with this song off a classic Rene y Rene record. I transferred it from LP to Mp3 myself, so pardon me for the bad quality. I dedicate this one for the good times, the un-finished homework from my 5th grade year, the sweetness of 1989 and my father's  warm, un-drank Schlitz beer still sitting upon that old Sears turntable lost somewhere in time.