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Sunday, May 3, 2009

Luisito, bloggies; Bloggies, Luisito

Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me.

You haven't been properly introduced, have you?

Bloggies, this is Luisito.

Luisito, meet the bloggies.

Luisito and I met at a bar called La Carboneria where I used to hang out as a study abroad student in the Spring of 1998. People laugh when I tell them that here, because it's just so typical. La Carboneria can be a magnet for tourists, but locals like it too. Of course we met there. Of course we did, where else?

The first time I met him we were standing in front of this piano:

(I have no idea who the dude in the picture is)

It was a cozy little place, that bar.

There was never a cover charge and there was always live flamenco; real, hard, it's-an-acquired-taste flamenco, not the watered-down touristy version. You could smoke hash and nobody cared, and that we did. There was cheap wine to be drunk and people watching to be done, and oh, much Spanish to be learned.

I met Luisito through his younger brother, who, truth be told, I had a mad crush on but who kept telling me, "my brother plays guitar, you know. He's a wonderful guitar brother this and my brother that..." And then one day he dragged this famous brother to the bar to meet me. Luisito walked in with his messy hair and his wrinkly Pearl Jam t-shirt.

That night he jokingly asked me to marry him. I jokingly said yes. I internally tried to reconcile the fact that I liked Pearl Jam with the fact that I thought I was too cool to like Pearl Jam.

Fast forward five years to 2003 and we were not-so-jokingly married, and the fact that I used to have a crush on my brother-in-law had become just bizarre.

Luisito is messy; he has messy hair. A lot of times he has a stained shirt, and his pants are all scuffed up on the bottom and fuck, why is he wearing those shoes? Where did he find them? I thought I threw them out. He has a slight unibrow that, on grounds of not giving a shit, he refuses to groom. He has relatively small hands that are perfect for a small-breasted woman. He has strong arms and not a lot of hair - but the hair on his chest forms a perfect Iberian Peninsula. He's not tall and thin like his brothers nor does he wear perfectly laundered clothes made in Italy like they do, but he is the most handsome of anyone in his family. He inherited the best of his mother and father's features, melded into a beautiful face; his mothers large brown Moorish eyes and perfect nose, his fathers large lips, while his brothers did not inherit such harmonious combinations, rather getting their father's enormous nose and small eyes and their mother's crooked teeth.

But, see, all I've done is describe a container.

Today we drove home from his hometown where we were visiting over the weekend and during the ride home Luisito spoke to me about containers and contents of containers and the sharing of the contents of containers.

He said that there are artists that are containers; for example musical groups that have the look, the demo where every track is perfectly executed. The marketability is there, the technical know-how has been made available, the money has been spent to churn out something likeable.

But you're not allowed to open the container.

You're not allowed to take away the sound technicians, the photographers, the just-so-care-free looking attire to see what is left. You are not allowed to remove what is money-driven, fame-driven or just plain driven by desperation for acceptance. The containers are tip-fucking-top, but there is no going deep and pulling out what's inside them.

The reason why you are not allowed to open the container is not usually because there is nothing in there, or because what is in there is rotting cabbage that has been left in the fridge for two weeks that could have been good but nothing was done with it.

Usually you are not allowed to open the container because of a lack of generosity. Maybe the containers don't know how to share their contents.

There are some artists, musicians, writers, whatever, that never hold back on any piece. They never say, "I don't want to run out of material, so I'm going to save this idea for my next piece, my next painting, my next post, my next album." There are those that put everything they fucking have within their soul because they know that creativity is not finite, but rather it expands when it's used with the whole heart. I don't know if this is the same as genius or if it takes this generosity for a genius to make themselves known.

So, my friends, meet Luisito. He's a slightly roughed up tupperware container, with a fucking five star gourmet dinner inside. And I'll lick the tupperware clean, because he's willing to give away all the contents anytime anyone opens his container. He doesn't save a morsel for himself, within himself. In every single thing he does, in every song he writes, in every project he works on, in every meal he makes, in every other human or animal he relates to, he pulls his whole heart out and just hands it to anyone and doesn't want any of it for himself.

He's never once held back.

Someday I want to say that I got to the point where I did the same.

I'm still learning, honey.

Eventoblog054 by JuanJaen from Flickr.
Eventoblog 081 by Juan Jaen from Flickr.
Luisito by Blues 2008.
Luisito and Blues circa 1998.

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Denise May 3, 2009 at 3:33 PM  

Containers sounded like it had a lot to do with your writing. And nice to meet Luisito, he sounds so warm and grounded and alive.

~Mountain Lover~ May 3, 2009 at 5:33 PM  

I love that. Containers. I don't think some even know what's inside their container.

People in the Sun May 3, 2009 at 8:56 PM  

And how cute that you included a picture of a bald perv playing with his balls while his mother plays the piano?

Whazzap, Luisito!

(he seems a bit intimidated in the '98 picture. Looks like he's overcome that by now).

Mongoliangirl May 3, 2009 at 9:32 PM  

Hi Luisito! (Blues, spell that for me phonetically, stat!) Nice to meet you!
What an excellent couple, you two.
And what an excellent post. Containers. Got me thinking little one.

the cubicle's backporch May 4, 2009 at 10:59 AM  

It's always nice having someone around who makes you think. I like his view on containers.

Anonymous May 4, 2009 at 12:26 PM  

I want to be in that bar right.this.second. And thank you for the introduction. I'll take roughed up tupperware over a fancy, leaky container any day.

Blues May 4, 2009 at 1:06 PM  

Denise, maybe someday I'll figure out what's in my container and hope it's not two week old curry.

Mountain Lover - I don't.

People in the Sun - I know, total pervoid. I had to put in the disclaimer that I had no idea who the man was just in case people thought that was Luisito.

Mongoliangirl - it's Lou-ee-see-toe. Louis as in Louis Armstrong, See Toe as in I see your toe. Louis See Toe. Luisito.

Cubicle - hey thanks for migrating with me.

Hereinfranklin - I know, that bar is fun, I haven't been there in a long time and want to go back.

formerly fun May 4, 2009 at 1:23 PM  

Uhm, oh here you are:)

Hi Luisito, mmmm, everything in Spain is delicious, no?

Blue, my husband got the best of his parent's features too(and personality). Isn't it funny how all those genes can just express themselves so differently?

Rassles May 4, 2009 at 6:49 PM  

Finally. I've been wanting to hear about him for like, nearly a year now.

pssst: "I internally tried to reconcile the fact that I liked Pearl Jam with the fact that I thought I was too cool to like Pearl Jam."

I have to learn how to do that. I'm so glad you did.

A Free Man May 4, 2009 at 7:07 PM  

Nice post. Does he know you used that photo at the top?

I'm loving the new site - the honesty, the glimpses inside the container.


"I internally tried to reconcile the fact that I liked Pearl Jam with the fact that I thought I was too cool to like Pearl Jam." one of those things I struggled with for a long time.

Not about Pearl Jam, they annoy me. But there are loads of others.

These days, I don't care about cool.

Anonymous May 4, 2009 at 11:36 PM  

I never thought we'd get to meet the man! This is so exciting! I love this new place!

(PS: the containers and the pearl jam bits were gold)

neil wykes May 5, 2009 at 2:01 AM  

I'll read the article itself soon

Anyone else having trouble access the RSS feed

Blues May 5, 2009 at 9:48 AM  

@FF - I'm here I'm here! Luisito is gonna love your comment.

@Rassles - I've wanted to write but describing Luisito is like a million times harder than writing my own About page, which is damn hard enough. I mean, how do you sum up the most important thing in your life in one palatable post? I've tried before and it never came out right, and then when we were riding in the car and he described containers, it hit me. anyway, I'm not entirely happy with it, but at least it's a start.

@Afreeman - yes, post was husband approved. I knew you were gonna get that sentence when I wrote it.

@prayingtodarwin - thanks Ginny. I'm happier here in my new home.

@Neil - crap, I have no idea, but it worked for me when I subscribed to my google feeder, I hope others tell me if they are having trouble subscribing. Did you use the subscribe button at the bottom or the subscribe tab at the top and find your type of reader? (I'm such an idiot with this stuff, I barely even understand what an RSS feed is).

ghost of keywork May 5, 2009 at 10:06 AM  

Great post. Luisito is not alone, I too, possess said hairy chest peninsula.

Blues May 5, 2009 at 10:20 AM  

Key - it is seriously a map of Spain and Portugal, it's awesome.

kate May 5, 2009 at 1:21 PM  

Hey, it's so great to read you here. Awesome post! And I too am unable to subscribe via GoogleReader, which is why it has taken me so long to comment. I use that little thingie on my toolbar (Mozilla) that you click on and it automatically loads the page in GR so you can subscribe, but here I get the "can't find a feed" message.

Blues May 5, 2009 at 2:55 PM  

Thanks for the heads up Kate, I'm looking into it but it doesn't help that I'm clueless. I myself was able to subscribe in google reader and my feedburner says I have 8 subscribers, so I'm not sure what's going on. Thanks though, I hope I get it fixed soon.

Gwen May 5, 2009 at 3:27 PM  

"He's a slightly roughed up tupperware container, with a fucking five star gourmet dinner inside" -

That line just about reached out and punched me in the gut. But in a good way. It's just

Oh and Hi Luisito! Nice to meet you. Your wife? Is amazing.

Florida Girl In Sydney May 5, 2009 at 4:44 PM  

The husband is quite hot-- I can see why you've ended up in Spain with him. I love men who wear dirty clothes, I'm not sure why.

Yo Momma May 5, 2009 at 10:29 PM  

Ah Luisito. Nice to meet you Mr. Gourmet meal. The bar you met does look cozy. I would hang out there. :)

I love his containers metaphor. I had a similar theory on how 1 of my friends is like tofu when it comes to her bfs. Just soaks up whatever they are. Unfortch, her current bf is a douche and the contents of her container is starting to smell douche-like everyday.

maggie, dammit May 6, 2009 at 6:09 AM  

AWESOME. I love it. You are so NOT full of shit, as far as containers go.

Blues May 6, 2009 at 12:00 PM  

@Gwen - thank you.

@FGIS - I know, I don't know why but it just gets me going, the food stains.

@Yo Mamma - yes good analogy, Tofu. Douchie tofu.

@Maggie - thanks mags.

Ellie May 7, 2009 at 9:40 AM  

That's a fucking fantastic ode to your man.

Blues May 7, 2009 at 10:38 AM  

@Ellie - Shit. And I was thinking it was kinda weak. It's not easy to write about people besides myself.

Gypsy May 7, 2009 at 11:13 AM  

Awww. Finally we get some Luisito. I love it.

flutter May 8, 2009 at 6:31 PM  

you are kind of brilliant, have I not mentioned that to you, yet?

Blues May 9, 2009 at 1:33 PM  

@Gypsy - I know, I've been completely incapable to forming a decent post about him. And I haven't talked about him in a lot of my posts because I had never given him a proper introduction.

@Flutter - (blushing) i.e. I'm glad you're here.

Mister Crowley May 11, 2009 at 5:44 AM  

Cheers on the new blog :D

"I internally tried to reconcile the fact that I liked Pearl Jam with the fact that I thought I was too cool to like Pearl Jam."

You appear to be an experienced campaigner, so I suppose you could tell me how to deal with:

"I internally tried to reconcile the fact that I liked Metallica with the fact that every woman I try to date hates metal."

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