My [redacted] Journey

A teacher's search for inner peace.


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El Mariachi

May 6, 2015
Dear Readers,
OK. So I’m sitting at my sister’s house, post-tequila shots, attempting to write a decent post marking 14 years since we lost our Dad. And though we choose tequila to pay tribute, it’s not because we are a couple of lushes (although we might be).  We drink tequila because it was Dad’s drink (Chivas as well, et al). A few days before Dad passed away, he confided in me the bootleg tequila he’d stashed for us to tap into once we were celebrating his life. Dad was like that, making the distinction between celebrating a life versus grieving a death.  I intend on doing just that.  So, here I am, tequila-filled, reading a tribute my sister wrote, and it is so moving, so beautiful, so well-written…so my next post!  I do not think Mercy will mind; in fact, I think (hope) she will be pleased.  Mercy’s tribute encapsulates my dad, just asmusic encapsulated my dad.  Thank you, Moosie.  Love, Your Vickie
Remembering My Dad – For a lot of you out there, you’re all aware that it is by no accident that Los Zubias are an extremely talented bunch. From where that talent originated in the Alex Zubia family is from a wonderful man so rich in such talent, Alex Zubia – Dad.
One of my best memories is from the age of five. There was not a moment when Dad was not playing the guitar, guitarron, playing records, the radio or just singing. And I knew from this memory on he would always be a huge influence for me regarding music. The memory goes something like this: By now at five I knew every song Dad played on the guitar words, tempo, progressions and timing. Every so often he would delay a chord change no biggie. Unless you are trying to sing along.
Dad hade fashioned lyrics to You Are My Sunshine for our new love, Baby Vickie. Back then they recorded music on a reel to reel and Dad always recorded. As he and I are singing the song he begins to strum faster as he wanted to end it but I was having none of it. In the recording you can hear my little voice saying “no not like that” and to hear Mom tell it I was laying my hands on his strumming hand trying to stop him so we could do it right. LOL. Fast forward ten years.
I was bored with having to wait for Dad to play and of singing to records that it was at age fifteen I asked Dad to teach me to play guitar. He agreed but the way he was going to teach me was unconventional. He told me to write down the words to any song I wanted to sing and bring it to him. I did, and it was “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain.” Dad was so proud. I had really learned it. As the years went by one of us kids asked him the same thing. Then another, and so on. Dad considered my learning that one song as the stepping stone in creating the most awesome family band and whenever that song played it brought tears to his eyes.
He is gone now, fourteen years today. Forever I will always remember the love, pride and joy that filled him everytime I would perform and I will always be grateful for His Legacy.
That was for you, Dad.  Peace, ~v.

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