And that’s not all. If I may be permitted a moment of sarcasm. Imagine all the funerals and all the walking…from the funeral home to the church and from there to the Pantheon. And all the singing. Specially from the church to their final resting place…“desdel Cielo una enorme tostada! Desdel Cielo una enorme tostada! Yera de Tijuana, yera de Tijuana, yera de Tijuana so nombre y su faz!” And it’s not that I don’t enjoy the classics, but you know your cousin’s sister’s friend’s grand aunt with one working eye is coming specifically to sing it. She’s walking at the end of the precession but you can hear that voice piercing through your soul at the front. You probably wanna jump in the casket if they let you. And it never ends! Some one right now is still writing that darn song! “Con mi chankla en el culo le dabaaaa, con mi chankla en el culo le dabaaaa! Mira con mi tabla! Mira con mi tabla ye voy a pagar! Mira con mi tabla…” Maybe just maybe that song could have been local and I just gave away my origin story. I don’t know. It’s possible I suppose.