Bésame Mucho.

Argentines love a good sing along.

June 16th, 2026

San Martin, Argentina

Dear Reader,

“You made my wife cry.”, said one man in his late fifties as I came offstage after my concert on Saturday night.

“This night was so special.”, declared a woman sitting at a two top table with her husband.

I sang mostly American standards like I Love Paris by Cole Porter, and the Gershwin’s Our Love Is Here To Stay, and French ballads such as Edith Piaf’s Hymne A L’Amour and Michel Legrand’s Chanson De Delphine.

To be sure I had something they all knew, I also included a bolero called Bésame Mucho which translates to kiss me a lot…I always introduce the song by saying that it was written by 13 year old Consuelo Velasquez, and that if I had been her mother I might’ve been wondering what she’d been doing up in her room…and with whom!

The words go like this:

Kiss me, kiss me a lot, just as if it were our last time…

Kiss me, kiss me so much, how afraid I am to lose you, to lose you forever…

I want to hold you close, to look into your eyes, and to feel you close to me…

You may think that tomorrow I’ll already be far away, far away from you…

I heard a man sitting near the stage singing softly. So, on the next chorus I invited him and the rest of the crowd to join in.

“Bésame, bésame mucho”, they all chimed. They sang out the rest of the words to the song gustily. An audience member took a video.

Bésame Mucho. Courtesy of Laura Maso.

After the show, I sat down at a table of female friends and chatted with them over a drink.

Soon the stiff drink had its effects and my weariness became such that I felt my head might fall right down on the table. I rose to take my leave.

I collected my microphone, stage clothes, and show bag, and headed out into the cool night. I directed my steps to the nearby taxi stand. It was just past one am and there was not a single taxi.

I looked out at the empty streets. There were few people and fewer cars, let alone a cab.

Just then, a black cab stopped at the intersection. I called out, and the driver rolled down his window.

“I have a customer.”, he said.

“Oh.”, I said. “Right. Do you know where I can find a cab right now?”.

The driver turned to the woman sitting in the back of the cab. They exchanged a few words.

Then to me. “Where are you going?”, he asked.

“Near the shopping mall.”. I gave him the cross streets.

“Hop in.”.

I did.

“Good evening.”, I said to the woman in the back. She was plump, maybe in her mid forties, and friendly.

“Hi!”, she said. She smiled. Her lips were painted a deep red and she wore a striped tight fitting sweater.

“This is really nice of you.”, I said.

“Oh it’s nothing. Where you’re going is on the way to where I’m going.”, she replied.

“What luck!”.

We settled into a comfortable silence as we zipped along the deserted streets. We arrived at the corner where we’d agreed I should be dropped off.

“How much do I owe you?”, I asked the woman.

“Nothing.”, she replied. “Like I said, I was going this way anyway.”.

I thanked her and got out. The cab idled while I crossed the street. I turned to wave as I entered my building. The friendly woman and the driver waved back.

I headed up to our apartment. Ramona was waiting for me in the same place I’d left her on the couch in the living room. Satisfied that I was home safe, she got up and trotted to her bed.

I turned in, filled with the peaceful, happy feeling of a job well done.

More to come.

Abrazos,

Mariah

Me and Miqueas Lopez take a bow. Photo: Milena Villa.