King Tano

A lot has happened since the last post in this blog… Today my father would have been 68 years old, today or maybe this past weekend I would have gone to my folks’ house and I would have shown up for some strawberry or cherry cake with strawberry ice cream after a sumptuous dinner prepared lovingly by my mom. I would probably have some gift that would be utilitarian as well as have some sort of aesthetic value to it, he liked anything I gave him. But I know that he would greet me with that big grin of his and give me a big hug and any doubt about his relishing his day would disappear.

Cayetano M. Teso left this physical plane almost 6 months ago and I miss him dearly. At times I can still hear his words of wisdom and encouragement through out the day. This was the guy that showed me about staying true to your word and about never having any hate for anybody. He taught us to treat everyone with the same respect but to understand that we were not going to be treated in the same way. He was soft spoken in big crowds, but when there was a good time to be had, there was my dad right in the thick of it. I was amazed at his musical talents as a little boy, he knew how to play the guitar and play it well. The countless family parties always ended up with my Nino Chuni, Tio George, and countless other tios, tias and primos singing corridos, rancheras, and the classic Mexican standards late into the night. As a young man my dad earned his nickname of “El Mariachi Con Tenis” (The Mariachi with Tennis shoes) as this streetwise kid crooning with the guys. He was cool according to my older cousins, he had a cherry red camaro that he drove around and this killer GMC truck that was the envy of the barrio. My dad was a hard worker as well, he worked for 40 years as a construction worker mostly as a cement mason. Everywhere we drove around he would critique all of the curbs around town and let you know what was exceptional work and what was shoddy workmanship. I still drive by the house where my brother and I helped him with a retaining wall he was building for a pair of nuns who lived near 5th and Helen. Everytime I drive by and my son is with me I point to the wall proudly. He was a master in his trade. He woke up at 4am every morning and was back at home at 5pm with goodies in his lunchbox to share with me, my brother and my sister. He usually showered right away since he was always returning home with cement on his work boots and pants and then lay on the floor reading the newspaper as we were walking on his back (yeah I was much smaller then :) ). Then he would tell us that if we pulled out all of his gray hairs he would give us a nickel a piece...he ended up with a full head of white hair.

He was also the techie of the house as well. I still remember when he bought a satellite dish and we were installing it trying to figure out the coordinates of the each satellite by aiming at the sky trying to find Galaxy 1 or Morelos 3. He loved the things of yesteryear, such as a 66 thunderbird he bought from the next door neighbor or the vintage radio he got as a gift from my Tia Juana.

I do remember looking through his 1959 school yearbook from John Spring and in the index where they had the student's picture pages, they also included the nicknames of all the students. They don't do that anymore, but I found it so cool that my dad's nickname was King Tano when he was young. I approached my dad a while back and I asked him why the nickname, he answered that a teacher once showed him a region in Italy that was named Teso (not sure if it was a mountain range or not) but then she added that Tano may be in fact be a king of some far off land to the delight of my dad's classroom the nickname came about. My dad was truly a king and a laborer, a musician and a loner, the mechanic and the humble tinkerer. My dad was all of these things and more. He was my confidante,he knew when I was down and somehow knew what to say to make me feel better. I miss him. I miss telling him about my accomplishments and his gentle reassurance when I failed, I miss him yelling at me for making boneheaded mistakes and I miss him trying to teach me how to play the guitar. I miss how excited he would get when the clouds would roll in and how pissed off he would get as if the clouds had some beef with him. I miss how he would tell off the supervisors at any construction company he didn’t get along with. I miss how he would stand up against anybody if he felt that they were trying to belittle us. I miss how he would buy a Mad Magazine every month because I would ask and he always ended up reading them as well. I miss how he got excited whenever he bought a record and I miss how he went above and beyond to keep the magic of Christmas going on and on and on. I still see him in my dreams, he’ll crack a joke and he’s always laughing. When he died I thought his image would slip away and I was so scared it would. But it’s only gotten stronger. Happy Birthday and oh yeah Sapo Verde to you Tano!