He would like to be called El Mariachi or Desperado because of the guitar case he carried in high school and the night we first met. I am going to call him Blues because he plays mean blues on his guitar and stride on the piano, all by ear, and because he says he loves the blues because he’s had them for most of his life. But he is the most easygoing, mellow, cheerful bluesman I know. Blues also makes me not feel the blues.
Blues is different from other men who have made me smile. He is salt of the earth, the kind of man who can fix your car. He didn’t go to my alma mater but he knows 3 Asian languages, some Romanian, in addition to his native Spanish and English. He doesn’t like to text message and he mistakenly refers to my online writing as a “bog” which it certainly can be. He does not have a TV, an iPod,or a babymomma. He has never touched alcohol. And thank goodness he’s a Pisces.
Things are going well. The other night, he brought me a box of Filipino pastries. I filed his nails while we watched TV. The next day, he chatted with my dad about their respective Army days.
When I first met him, I had my doubts. He’s not a player or a bad boy. He is not smooth or polished. But he is a good man, one I can’t help but appreciate more each day.