Many a time I reflect on the true meaning of a cultural divide.  It is so much more than one loving cilantro and spicy foods, the other loving bland and simple concoctions.  Or preferring novels to autobiographies.  Or fancying opera to rock and roll. 

We dismiss that cultural divide to our peril.  Sometimes, it can easily be bridged.  But other times, we don’t realize that, while the crack to cross appears narrow, when you get close to it you discover it is an abyss, wider and deeper than expected. 

Take the Argentine tango.  Al Pacino in A Scent of a Woman, Arnold Scharzenegger in True Lies, for example.  The truth is that the famous Argentine singer of yore, Carlos Gardel, composed this song, which actually refers to a gambler losing a horse’s race “por una cabeza”(by just a head). 

Today, some would say the Hollywood movies engaged in “cultural appropriation” and some would be crying crocodile tears.  The truth is that beautiful music transcends cultures and is universal.  However, while we all can appreciate the rhythm, the exotic movements, the bandoneon, we might have a harder time fully understanding the meaning behind the lyrics.  

Which leads me to another rumination of mine.  Many times I find that certain melodies, lyrics, stories and poems that I used to love or made me ponder then, were somewhat pointing me to “something” that only now, at this stage in my life, I can finally begin to understand.  

Were they part of what I call the tender tendrils of the cobweb of life that we don’t see until the sun hits the morning dew on that cobweb and then, BINGO, it appears in all its majesty?  I’ve encountered this phenomenon countless times, ergo my conclusion that we, life, experiences are all linked in some way through those almost unseen tendrils until that light gives me that “Eureka” moment.

Such is the case with vintage Argentine tangos, with lyrics that hit you where it hurts… For example, Esta Noche Me Emborracho (Tonight I get Drunk).

The song, raw and brutal, is the realization that a betrayal brought forth depredation.  That devastation does not end in a “Hah, revenge is best served cold” moment.  It only highlights the horrors of Dorian Gray.  

The tango crooner (Carlos Gardel) cannot handle the awareness that he is now without friends, having lived a wrong and wicked moment, without honor.  And the object of his downfall is devastatingly pitiful. 

Whether man or woman, I think we can understand the angst.  At the end of it all, I guess, when we sow with meanness and lies we reap bitterness, sadness and sorrow, and when reality hits it is but the awareness that its genesis is the grotesque and rotten fruit of an obsessive and wrongful yearning.

Unfortunately, no English translation captures the essence of the words.  You have to understand the language, the slang, the setting, the idiosyncrasies.  However, I merged a couple of translations below, to try and convey the tango’s ferocious punch to the solar plexus. 

And, for the life of me, I know for a fact that I would not like to be remembered as a featherless rooster!

(Talking about bridging cultural divides, thanks to the Smithsonian, I was tickled pink to find out the US honored Carlos Gardel with a Forever stamp!).

Tonight I Get Drunk
(Esta Noche Me Emborracho)

Alone, faded, worn out, 
I saw her this dawn 
Leaving a cabaret,

A full yard long of neck and 
A hanger of a neckline under the chin.
Bow-legged, dressed like a young broad, 
Dyed and flirting her nudity.

Seemed like a featherless rooster
Mockingly showing off her pecked hide.

I, that know when I can't take it anymore,
Just ran away from there seeing her like that, 
Trying not to cry.

And to think that ten years ago she was my madness
That I went as far as betrayal for her beauty.
That what is now a wreck
Was my sweetheart, where I lost my dignity.

That nuts for her beauty, I stole my mother's bread
I became mean and sinful.
That I was left without a friend, 
That I lived in bad faith.

That she had me on my knees
Without morals, like a beggar when she left.
I never thought I would see her in a requiescat in pace
As cruel as today.

Look, if it's not to commit suicide, that for that old junk
I was left as what I am now.
Fierce revenge that of time
That makes you see destroyed what you loved.

This encounter has hurt me so much
That if I think about it more, I end up poisoned,
Tonight I get drunk well,
Thoroughly drunk,
So I wont think..