I discovered the program “Tango a Medialuz” on the proudly bombacious “Radio Monte Carlo, de Montevideo, la Capital de la Republica Oriental del Uruguay”. 2230 to midnight; medianoche, yet entitled “Tango to Mid-Light.” Interrupted solely by “Informaticos de Monte Carlo”, read by a newscaster who could be the announcer on a 1950s American game show, if it were in Rio Platenese Spanish. Not yet do I comprehend the news, save for a word or two, or if lucky a phrase and a description. Something unlucky happened to an old man of ochenta y siete años last night, but I know not what. However, simply to be a man of 87 years old is buena fortuna to my eyes, still almost three decades from that milestone. Should there be a new word in metric for milestone, I wonder?
As nine at night passes, and we digest the partly home-made pizza of fresh morrones from the street fair and $2 US of calamari in savory sauce from a can on the store-bought pre-salsafied crust, I wonder if this is where I might end my days somewhere further along the dance floor. I could do so gladly, I think at this moment.
Atlántida, Canelones, Uruguay 08 Sept 2011