Unmet Expectations and Their Consequences

Most of the time, my life follows pretty closely to the "definition" of expectation that says, "Expectations are just premeditated resentments".  98% of the time if I have an expectation of a person, place or thing, I am totally let down and cop an attitude faster than you can say, "Sorry" and there will be hell to pay to me for "whatever" not happening like I had it all thought out in my head.  I've learned my lessons painfully on having unrealistic expectations of others, ones that they can never possibly meet.  I've learned those are a way of having you disappoint me right off the bat, so that I no longer have to trust you or your word.  Gotcha.  The consequences hurt me and they hurt you too.

Last night, I went to the Linda Ronstadt concert with my friend Don.  He graciously sprung for the tickets when I told him she was coming to town.  We were both excited to see Linda do Blue Bayou, When Will I Be Loved, You're No Good, etc., etc.  She's got an expansive, awesome career, becoming the only woman to have a Top 100 hit in one genre or another, every single year, for 30 years straight.  You don't accomplish that with no talent, no matter how much payola you do.  So, with the expectation of an evening of greatest hits, we were quite suprised to find out that she has, in latter years, embraced her Latin heritage and this tour was completely in Spanish, perfoming only Spanish folklore and original songs.  Not even an Azul Bayou or Cuando Se Agregó I or No Eres Bueno...  The opening act was her accompaniment, Mariachi Los Camperos De Nati Cano, a grammy award winning Mariachi ensemble.  They were INCREDIBLE.  Seriously.  I thought I would be sitting there wanting to jam a tuning fork in my ear, imagining a night filled with the music I hear in the Mexican restaurants I frequent, with accordians for gawd's sake.  But no.  They were costumed beautifully, matadors of music, playing, singing and "Oy!  AAAHAHAHAHA!"ing like nothing I've ever experienced.  Don said the main singer was being screamed for like he was the Spanish Wayne Newton, but he was a WAY better vocalist than Wayne, with a range, tone and diaphragm contol that would give Pavarotti a run for his pesos.  The trumpets were so crisp and clear they gave me chills.  The violins played in tandem like a well oiled engine, the pistons being the bows rising and falling with Porche like precision, puffing out smoke billows of resin that filled the air.  The harpist, what can I say, other than the fact that I had never actually seen anyone playing the harp, left me awestruck.  The three different acoustic guitar players could have outplayed Eddie VanHalen on his best day.  And they were all SO full of joy it was absolutely contagious.  I could have listened and watched for another hour!

Unfortunately, Linda's voice isn't at 64 as it was at 25, and the spell was broken by she who was to be queen.  We didn't stay for much of her performance.  It was anticlimactic to say the least, but the consequence of a complete misrepresentaion of an expectation was totally worth it.  I would soooo do it again.  Thanks Don.  It's made me smile for over 24 hours now.  Via con Dios mi amigos.