Toma chocolate, Pague lo que debes

Growing up in the United States, I've seen a lot of fads come and go and I know enough of this country's cultural history to know that there were many here-today-gone-tomorrow fads that were all but forgotten by the time I was born. Today's "hit" will be barely a memory next week, much less next year. This is especially true for quirky cultural sensations that cross - however momentarily - the many dizzying social lines in this country.

For example, twenty years ago this week, M.C. Hammer's "Can't Touch This" was officially released to the record-buying public in North America. It, of course, was a hit but for how long? Play that song at a party now and you might get some enthusiastic responses but it depends on so many things: the age demographic of the recepients, even the ethnic orientation of the listeners. Real talk here: the response to that song will not be the same in a Waco, Texas honkey-tonk or an Elks ball in Butte, Montana as it may be at an alumni dance at North Carolina A&T University in Greensboro.

That is not a knock as much as an observation of how compartmentalized - across generational, linguistic, ethnic, ideological, geographical, socioeconomic lines - culture is the United States.

Although I was raised in the United States, my family is not from here - they are from Cuba.

Cuba, to be sure, has had its own share of fads that have come and gone. There are, however, some staples that are enjoyed and celebrated by Cubans of all ages, in every corner of the world.

The best example of timeless, limitless "resonance" for Cubans is the song "El Bodeguero," composed by legendary flautist Richard Egües of the seemingly immortalt Orquesta Aragon. It matters not where one starts playing this delightful cha cha cha, or even when. Once the familiar notes of D E F G F begin to play, the response is universal ... universally Cuban.

To whit, a video clip showing the creators of "El Bodeguero" (including its composer with exquisite flute riffs) depicts an electricity that can be sensed through the computer screen, over the miles, beyond the years. The audience and artists merge into one, one big hunk of Cuban delight.

This simple song, about a humble shopkeeper who dances amongst his fresh produce, is so beloved by me and the rest of my countrymen that it is almost a national anthem to us. It is just one of those unique expressions of what we refer to as our Cubanidad.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I will forget that I don't really dance well and indulge in a cha cha cha.