After a long day of piano hunting, Eddie and I sat exhausted in the dirt of Brooklyn's Prospect Park. We were waiting for the Texas Tornadoes to begin their free outdoor concert as we swatted mosquitoes and sorted through our pictures and videos from the day. We opted against the metal folding chairs placed in front of the stage for our own section of ground so we could lay out and let the sweat dry as we recuperated from our day's walking. We had no blanket to lay on, so we used the large floor mat from the back of my SUV, which worked well enough to keep us out of the ants and dirt.
I suddenly felt rejuvenated when at last the Texas Tornadoes made their grand entrance on stage with the compulsively catchy "Adios Mexico." I was surprised at the large crowd that made it out to see them. In my whole life, there are few people I know that have heard of the Tex-Mex group, let alone like them enough to make the journey to see them in concert. I was introduced to them in North Platte at one of Nebraska Land Day's Mexican Fiestas and I've been a fan ever since.
With the high energy music, unmistakable Tex-Mex rhythm, and 100 mile per hour accordion, I couldn't help but flash back to those North Platte Days. And of all things for me to see as they crooned, "Wasted Days and Wasted Nights," I watched three little girls at the next tree over, dancing to the music. There were two slightly older girls and one much younger, still in diapers. They were all wearing matching dresses. The little one did her best to imitate her big sisters' movements as they all twirled their skirts and swayed to the music, making up routines and showing off for whoever was watching. The entire setting seemed surreal. Those girls experiencing a nearly identical experience to that of me and my sisters, only in New York instead of Nebraska. Yet their memory will be completely different and unique to them.
And of all the things to think about as I listened to the Tornadoes' renditions of "Hey Baby Que Paso" and "Is Anybody Going to San Antone," I thought of my sisters.
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