Lalo Guerrero, known as the Father of Chicano Music, passed away.  Lalo is well-known, primarily,
 through his music.  His parodies, like “There’s No Tortillas”, are played regularly on KUVO. 
Lalo also wrote songs such as “Chucos Suaves’ which was used in the play and movie, “Zoot Suit”.
 For Chicanos, his influence is often compared to that of the late Compay Segundo.  He has been 
honored with the Medal of Honor in the Arts, but what I wanted to relate was a very fortunate 
opportunity that my daughter and I had to meet Lalo.

We were in San Jose, CA for the weekend. We traveled to San Juan Bautista about 45 miles south of
 San Jose to visit with some friends from El Teatro Campesino. In town, we saw a flyer that said Lalo
 was performing at a local hotel. When we arrived, there were maybe 40 people there and a giant
 spread of food and beverages had been laid out, apparently this was a fundraiser for a scholarship
 fund.

 They must not have done much advertising because there were so few people there. There was also a
 silent art auction and we picked up some great work for cheap, but the free food, wonderful art and
 intimate setting wasn’t the highlight. Lalo Guerrero, in tuxedo, 83 years old, guitar in hand 
performing 2-45 minutes sets of all the great songs he had written. He sang his parodies, his sense of
 humor and irony dominating the work.  He also sang of his great love for his home town Tucson,
 Arizona. He sang of Cesar Chavez and he sang of his great pride in being Chicano.

The kids in the audience knew him as Papa Lalo from the children’s album he cut with Los Lobos. 
After the concert, I shook his hand.  What I touched, to my amazement, was a shaking, feeble hand of
 a man in very advanced years. It was only in that moment that I realized his mortality, his frailty and 
his advanced years.  Because, during that concert, he was anything but mortal, frail or old.  Lalo was
 a giant in that small lobby and he lived as a giant in carrying on the culture of Mexican-Americans
 caught between two worlds.  Lalo’s music was widely recorded in Mexico.  Instead of just crossing
 over, Lalo crossed back.

 I always marvel at how musicians and artists in general are so alive in the practice of their work.
 Performing is what they do, they will drag themselves from a sick bed to do one last gig. They can’t 
remember where they left their keys, but they remember all the nuances of their work. We have lost 
two great Lalo’s this year, ( the great poet Lalo Delgado died less than a year ago) but we were so
 fortunate to have had them for the time we did. It also makes me appreciate the dedication and
 sacrifice that artists make to create, to perform and to share.

¡Gracias, Don Lalo!

TG