A night with a Latin heartthrob

A few years ago, my wife teased me with an unusually heartbreaking

comment: “Honey, if I were to cheat on you, I would probably do it

with Alejandro Fernandez.”

Fernandez is a famous mariachi singer and son of a Mexican living

legend, Vicente Fernandez. I responded: “Go right ahead,

o7queridaf7 (darling); let’s see if you have a chance.”

It turns out her chance came last Friday. And believe it or not, I

made all the arrangements so that my wife, Gloria, could try to

fulfill her fantasy.

Three weeks ago, I bought two tickets to see Fernandez and two

other Latin pop stars, Chayanne and Marc Anthony, at Verizon Wireless

Amphitheater in Irvine.

I’m not sure who assembled the event, but my wife and other

hard-core fans couldn’t have asked for more. Having three Latino

celebrities in one package and right around the corner can only

happen in a telenovela (soup opera) script at Univision or Telemundo.

The concert was the subject of talk for weeks at Latino beauty salons

and pedicure shops.

My wife’s excitement grew as the date got closer. “Oh my God, I

can’t wait any longer,” she shouted as she walked out of the house

for work early that Friday morning.

I began to think, “Was it a good idea to buy the tickets?”

We left our child with a couple of friends, and off we went to the

amphitheater. Had I realized the 405 Freeway would be so packed, I

would’ve taken surface streets. Riding bicycles might have been

faster. Local authorities ought to figure out better ways to deal

with the traffic congestion close to the Irvine Center Drive exit.

The narrow street leading to the theater and the insufficient number

of attendants in the parking area only made the matter worse.

We arrived in the theater a few minutes late. Once inside, my wife

was disappointed to find so much competition in the open-air arena.

It was filled with many Latina beauties from different backgrounds

and nationalities.

I didn’t mind that at all.

It was an unforgettable night. Chayanne warmed up the crowd with a

round of his early pop hits, stirring up fans and provoking loud

ovations. He cooled them down with a couple of soft romantic tunes at

the end of his presentation.

Then it was Marc Anthony’s turn. I don’t own any of his records.

If I ever feel like listening to his music, I tune in a salsa station

or stop by Bloomingdale’s in Fashion Island, where his 1999 hit, “I

Need To Know,” plays every other hour. Anthony’s vocal prowess

impressed every soul in the house.

The moment of truth came at about 11 p.m. Alejandro Fernandez

walked onto the stage, wearing a dark ranchero outfit and holding a

typical charro sombrero in his right hand. The six young ladies to my

left went berserk, unable to resist their idol’s good looks. Some gal

in the VIP area tossed her intimate garments on the stage. My wife

could only hold her breath, and I was feeling her compelling force

dragging me into her ecstasy.

No doubt, Fernandez has something to be proud of. If I were to

describe his physical appearance, the infamous Don Juan comes

immediately to mind. Fernandez is a very “pretty” man, quite

muscular, tall and o7bien machof7. Any Latina would love to hang

out with him at J.C. Fandango in Anaheim.

And to his credit, the young Fernandez has rescued the vernacular

ranchero genre from likely extinction, just as Andrea Bocelli did

with opera. Fernandez’s greatest hit, “Como Quien No Pierde Una

Estrella,” captivated younger crows and put ranchero music back where

it belongs: deeply embedded in Mexican culture.

In the end, the show was worth the trouble. I have always enjoyed

Fernandez’s music and was happy to share some exhilarating moments

with my wife. Frankly, I never doubted her fidelity. She was kind

enough to tell me she would get us tickets to see Jennifer Lopez, her

midnight nemesis. I just can’t wait for that.

* HUMBERTO CASPA is a Costa Mesa resident and bilingual writer. He

can be reached by e-mail at hcletters@yahoo.com.