After watching “In the Mood for Love” a few weeks ago, I leapt down the rabbit hole that is the interwebs to discover and dwell in the bolero. I spent hours listening to various English and Spanish versions of “Quizas, Quizas, Quizas” and “Perfidia.”
Perfidia (and “Quizas, Quizas, Quizas,” too) has English lyrics written specifically for the melody, as opposed to translated lyrics. A song title that means faithless, treacherous or false (perfidy in English) seems destined to captivate me.
I became enamored with Julie London’s English version of Perfidia (which is terribly White of me, I know, and listened repeatedly on Youtube (such is my life at 47). Sara Montiel grabbed me, too, with this outstanding Spanish version. (Sara has a hotness factor of 9 million.)
Earlier today I bit the bullet and bought Julie London’s version of Perfidia. Ms. H. had plans to go to a yoga class. We agreed that I would walk home.
Armed with Julie, continuous repeat on my iPhone, my North Face down coat, Gortex boots, wool scarf, wool/cotton beanie, and several layers underneath the down coat, I walked home through an emerging winter storm in snowy conditions that I can only describe as breath taking and perfect.
Something about the sultry tempo of the song, Julie’s sexy, restrained delivery, and the fact that the song was written more than 70 years ago by Alberto Dominguez combined with the bitter cold and blowing snow to create a continuous moment of gratitude.
Perhaps it was the fact that I have finally learned, after only 21 years in the midwest, how to dress for the winter weather. Perhaps it was the fact that beneath my beanie and down hood, I felt like I inhabited my own world, a solo walker in a storm with a warm, grateful heart. Perhaps it was the beauty of the song itself and the knowledge that a man so many years ago could write about the utter sense of betrayal that sometimes comes with love. Perhaps it was the lovely headphones I wore or the fact that I am working on a great project at my job or that I could walk the three miles from the bus station to my house or that I would stop and shake my arms as snow gather in the folds of my coat.
Perhaps it is simply that I am grateful for all of it: The music; the snow; the warm winter clothes; the feeling of being tucked in; the charming woman that was Julie London; the staggering genius of Wong Kar-wai for introducing me to boleros through In the Mood for Love, for Alberto Dominguez and for the serendipitous luck that it all came together this evening.
May we find peace in our hearts through all the storms in our lives.