12 January 2008. Gusting winds from the east, sun, cirrus clouds and blue sky.
The Jockey Club, Bs. As., where on Friday nights, late, the microphone is open--Tango...y algo más--and the porteños sing out their hearts--for each other, and for themselves alone. The songs are old--and deeply known. Francisco Rizzi, a distinguished man in a gray suit, No veremos más (the words still true). Or Titina, Nada más, her flowered blouse and fine pearl-gray hair. Carlos Romaní as well--the master of ceremonies--who joins in with his own modestly insistent bit of mitteleuropean theatre--Agitando pañuelos...
Amar y callar, El amor desolado, Yo no sé que han hecho tus ojos, Ventanita de arrabal...
O Marité, cantando, Nostalgias...
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