At Long Last, Los Lobos

One of the hardest parts of being a graduate student in Austin was the knowledge that while other people were out making the scene, I was in my study at home cramming out papers, grading, and fretting about my dissertation. I experienced the famed nightlife of the World Capital of Live Music the way most people do: I read about it on the internet while procrastinating from the work at hand. I got used to missing shows from some of my favorite bands, and reading the rapturous reviews of these shows in the Austin Chronicle. And after a while, I developed a sense of pride in not going out; if I missed an occasional show, at least I was pursuing my degree and my passions. Furthermore, to be fair, I did on occasion get out of the house and see some memorable shows. Pixies reunion, anyone?
This sense of equanimity did not, however, extend to the feeling that destiny had permanently uncrossed my path from that of the legendary L.A. band Los Lobos . When it came to seeing them live, there always seemed to be something in the way of my making it to the show. They would come to Austin the exact same weekend that I would be away at a conference. Their tour date would converge with a pressing family obligation. They had a monster show the night before one of my major grad school deadlines. I never caught a break, and then endured happy reviews from newspapers and friends, all about how much fun the show had been. On one particularly icky occasion, Los Lobos played the Albuquerque Zoo Amphitheater on the same day that I got an injection of Adriamycin. All of my sisters were in town, and they took the kids--- Aaroncito got to go see them at the age of two. I got to stay home and watch reruns of the Ozzy Osbourne Show (btw, I really miss that show. Nothing warms my heart like the memory of Sharon Osbourne threatening John McEnroe with a "bollicking"). When it came to the number of times I just barely missed seeing them live, my heart was filled with dark, dark rue.
So when Pete asked me if I wanted to go see them at World Arena, I shouted through my lingering cough, "Yes! Kof! Kof!"
So last night, I finally finally saw Los Lobos live. Hooray!
I've been to World Arena before when it was used for Colorado College hockey. So the first funny thing I saw last night was this:

Sorry the picture is blurry. I also have to explain: this is a bar situated in the spot where the Zamboni usually emerges during hockey games. I kept glancing at it, expecting this bar to start moving around the floor of the arena, smoothing the concrete and distributing overpriced beer. A barzoni, if you will. And although I am easily amused, the quality of the entertainment definitely picked up:

and a good time was being had by all, most especially Pete and Lo:

Now, I wonder if the show in Denver tonight will be a better venue, since the start time last night (7:30 on a Thursday?) struck me as a little bizarre. Still, I'm so happy I saw them here in the Springs, because the crowd was just so awesome to look at. Every kind of Southern Colorado/ Northern New Mexico Chicano and Chicana was there. There was the guy who makes his zoot suit casual by wearing chinos instead of the pants that match the jacket. There was the woman who decided at St. Bernadette's in 1988 that a wall of hair and black lipstick made her feel beautiful and powerful, and who has never changed her look since. There were the biker dudes with rattails and t-shirts that announce them as old farts. There were adolescent girls out with their parents, wearing brand new fluorescent finery. I swear to god, I even saw Tere Avila there, running from one barzoni to another in a black micromini and knee high black leather high heel boots.
I had a blast, and I'm so happy that my Los Lobos luck has changed!