cabaret artist and gentleman.
Born in a world musical scales and exercises, songs and strumming sound guitar with his father, Maistre, enlivened the last afternoon. They listened, too, the tangos of Gardel's coming out in droves radio Doña Petra, neighboring the forehead, along with the sounds outside of the parish of La Pastora. Thus was formed in that house without water or electricity, in that corner of the city.
They woke to the sound of bugles and drums of a dry band tune that marked the transition to a soldiers in old sandals uppers bluish way to the field of military maneuvers. From time to time down the road listening to the cry of Manuelito: "Van the toast Calenti" , or Chichero: "Frost and fresh, cooled" . From the street No 24 Anzoátegui Shack bells sounded the Divina Pastora, Torres father's farm and religious singing and Juanita Youth Rivolta. The inevitable: "The tree must request love ..." in the schoolhouse the Sittel, those sisters who had come, God knows when, in Curaçao, which made torture aeiou Mantilla book.
Beyond Pumo was Monasteries's shop, the barber shop of the master musicians Moon and parishioner who met in El Saman, showing a new world of songs tangos and waltzes. It was learned, too, who organized the Maistro carols with the boys in the neighborhood and getting lost in harmonies or mango trees. He was staying with his mouth open, as babieca, listening to Julio Martínez, better known by his nickname "Machete" , playing his flute.
His holdings were Chicharronero Los Colorados and the Cerro del Vulture Street Escalona above Soublette Street and Water Box. The streets, its people, their sounds were his original school, they got the bases for democratic sense musical eclecticism always ruled.
was away, the College Páez, later, from the tutelage of the old Magpie-winning Miss Reneta scolding, the usual pulling of ears and the pounding coscorron - go to the Municipal Theatre. Punishment that never made him give up his love of music. And it was there in the last row of the theater, furtive and dark, to hear without being seen.
There in that city. That was his heritage, the seed, that with so many experiences was given by the fates acquiring, enriching, transforming, evolving with its many experiences throughout his life.
was born on March 12 in the city of Valencia Venezuela, in the house of Master Rafael and Dona Luisa. Today we meet 81 years and 15 September 2007 had the bad taste to go with their music elsewhere.
My friends, I invite you to listen, to rediscover their music and, above all, the lyrics of their songs. I can assure you will find a world-understand-I understand what it means to me Aldemaro Romero.
All the best for you.
PS: Thank you for your e-mails ... the first quarter is usually difficult for me to write. "Secura" of the brain or my muses are in hibernation.
NOTE: My Christmas cards. They should write a post ... or Homer's Odyssey are so many stories of magical realism.
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