Ayer

I've often been told that I was born in the wrong decade. I wore bell bottoms throughout middle school, rode in a VW van instead of a convertible as a homecoming rep, and in protest of Bush's reelection burned the bra I was wearing. (Unfortunately for my sister, mom accidentally put Ali's laundry in my drawer that horrid November morning in 2004.) Furthermore it's always been my unreachable dream to see The Beatles in concert.

Yes I know, that became impossible before I was even born. But while you may say that I'm a dreamer, I'm not the only one and this past weekend it happened, I saw The Beatles in concert.

Best. Thing. Ever.

Granted the quality of my cellphone pic does these guys no justice. And sure it was only a Spanish Beatles tribute band that had to don bowl-cut wigs and felt mustaches to look the part, but I am convinced that these talented Spaniards were the closest anyone can get to the real deal now-a-days.

It's a distinct possibility that these guys can't speak a word of English (they sure as hell didn't let any slip between songs), but they could sing not only with perfect accents, but with the same tone and timbre of the original Fab Four. Which of course leads to the question: How does such a tribute band form? How do you know if you can sing like John Lennon? Do you train for years to be like Ringo? Do these talents organically reveal themselves over wine and tapas? Or does destiny bring liked minded men together (regardless of country or native language) to form kickass tribute bands? I (of course) have a theory.

But to fully explain the theory let me start from the beginning. First off the show was in a concert hall that has been converted to a discotec (yes they still use that phrase here). But not just any discotec, one known for its amazing dance floor, exorbitant prices, and high hookup probability. So you can imagine my surprise when my roommates told me that a 15 Euro Beatles tribute concert was being held there.

We were probably the youngest people in the concert by a good 15-20 years. Being from Florida, this is something I'm used to. However, I am not used to a 51 year old women that is clearly tripping on acid coming up to me and pointing out my youth and then insulting my dance moves. To her credit this women did have some killer moves. She did the running man to "I Wanna Hold Your Hand", cabbage patched to "Michelle", and head-banged to "Drive My Car". She alone was worth the ticket price.

But once my group of friends moved a little closer to the stage (and a little further away from the lady who had begun to check out the dudes in our group) I realized that it sounded like the concert was in awesome surround sound. Like the quality you'd use to watch Return of the Jedi. I turned around to see if we'd moved in front of a speaker. No, something better. We'd moved in front of a group of 30-something men singing along. They knew every song, every word, every harmony. Then it dawned on me: this was how these bands were formed. The guys behind me would one day become the guys in front of me on the stage. And when that day came, another group of gents would come to the concert and while singing along in the back, find each and form a band with. A beautiful circle of life.

K Learns Spanish: Lesson 8

bigote- moustache. As in: Los bigotes nunca son buenos.

vela- candle.

ayer- yesterday, where all your troubles seem so far away.