Tito Puente

I listen to Tito Puente and the band playing Cha Cha Chá live at Grossingers Hotel in 1959, and my first response, after I have started swaying, is to smile slyly and think “Oh, he’s gonna get lucky tonight. . . ”

I missed my time, I really did. 

And my sex, too, it seems.


It occurs to me that, maybe, in the vacuum of my own mind, I might sometimes be a little harsh in my own self-criticism, and that this may limit my connection to others who see good things where I see flaws.