Best. Concert. Ever.

Last week, El Profesor Edgardo (pictured here with his wife, Mariana) informed me that Cafe Tocuva would be playing in Guadalajara. I had seen them play once in Detroit with my brother and his wife, and instantly got excited. Cafe Tocuva could be described as the Aerosmith of Mexico. They are all 40-some years old now after decades of rockin. They play a wide variety of rock/pop music. They are very talented musicians and great showmen, as opposed to just great showmen (AC/DC, Motley Crue) or just great musicians (Beethoven). In Detroit, they played at St. Andrew's hall, which is a very small venue with standing room only. Here in Guadalajara, they played at Arena Vicente Fernandez, a massive rodeo stadium. The atmosphere's were very different.

We got tickets at a record store for $308 pesos each. There was an issue of transportation, because the stadium is 45 minutes from our house, but that problem was solved when Edgardo offered to give us a ride. Thus, the night began with the pregame: a 1.5 liter water bottle filled with ron con coca (rum and coke). Edgardo informed us that Bacardi is called "Cacardi" in Mexico. Caca like poop for all you mono-linguals. At the stadium, they served only Estrella; if Estrella existed in the U.S., it would only be consumed by 15-year-old, Nascar fans, and trailer-park gangs. But it mattered not, the situation called for the consumption of alcohol. We also grabbed some personal pizzas for around $2 U.S. We timed our pre-concert ingestions perfectly, getting into the arena and to our seats just as the chants of "culero! culero!" turned into roars of approval, greeting the band to the stage. Edgardo and Mariana bought tickets for ground level. I have a medium level of fear for the ground level at Mexican concerts, which host violent mosh-pits for songs mellow and up-tempo. At St. Andrew's Hall, millions of bruises were born in a few short hours, and one fight nearly broke out (it was prevented by the world-class bouncers at St. Andrew's Halls that received a write-up in the Rolling Stone). So we bought our tickets for the first level above ground level. The view was fantastic, and what was lost in intimacy was gain in personal health. Even at our seats, sitting was for the weak, who were immediately sacrificed at the end of the concert. We danced, sang, and screamed like hell, surrounded by 60,000 Mexicans chanting "Ole! Ole! Ole, Ole, Ole! Cafe! Ole!"

There isn't much more to say. Concerts were not meant to be experienced through written prose. I will, over the course of the next few hours, post several videos and pictures to help you understand the levels of euphoria realized at Wednesday's show. Until next time, stay healthy, and eat some American cuisine for me (I am beginning to miss it so much.)