Two Carnales (brothers) of Tijuana
was surprise that our company was the transportation for Carlos Santana and his entourage for his concert in 2019 in San Diego. I have worked as a limo driver for the last 12 yrs. My seniority put me in the position to request to be Mr. Santana’s driver.
My father’s motto. “Always be Two hours early for appointments” I am driving a brand-new Cadillac Escalade. When I arrive at the hotel, it’s a courtesy to inform the bell captain. He looks at me, and nods, signals me to park in the limo waiting area. I started inspecting the instrumentation the functions that would affect the comfort of our passengers. The sound of the passenger back door opening got my attention. Carlos Santana is asking “Are you, my driver?” “I said yes”. “I am glad you are early; I am trying to find a sign of creative inspiration, for tonight’s performance” He sits down and starts looking on his I phone screen.
I asked if he would like me to step outside, he said “no, I need you to help me with the setting of my music from my phone into your speakers”. I was doing cart wheels in my head, I was in fan heaven, I tried not to peek glances at what he was doing. I am shaking, Carlos is only an arm length away from me. Sitting in my driver’s seat, I was in this forbidden sanctuary. I am peeking behind the Oz curtain.
I have followed the music of Mr. Santana for decades. My introduction to his music was not Woodstock but his Album, Santana Abraxas, from 1970. His music was my comfort blanket. Bringing joy and serenity, trying like most students to make sense of my college years. I have attended several concerts through the years, in addition I have listened to many interviews of Mr. Santana’s career how he sees the mystical world, Eastern philosophy and its influence in his life path. I followed Santana’s vision reading similar authors.
I had done Presidential visits, that require coordination of secret service of the United States as well as the visiting countries’ secret service, local police, California highway patrol and fourteen or more
vehicles caravan movement. The pressure of having the safety of a world leader. To work in precision using one’s instinct and judgment, making sure to do whatever it takes to keep them safe. This experience prepared me for any future assignments.
I did all the preparations for this important assignment. I did different routes I study the traffic patterns. I followed the GPS together with forty years of driving in San Diego. When the transportation director for Mr. Santana called, I outlined the details with military precision. Mr. Santana, heard the conversation, ask if that was Dave from transportation Yes, I replied.
Mr. Santana asked “Jose where are you from” I said I was born in Zacatecas but raised in Tijuana from 1953 to 1967 Carlos said “Orale” (all right then) “La neta guey” (the truth dude) I grew up in “colonia Libertad” (Liberty neighborhood) the barrier between a famous star and the driver was dissolved. A conversation sprouted between two carnales (brothers) of Tijuana, very informal. Leaving the professional protocol or switching from formal to informal language. We started talking about many subjects. The bad reputation of Tijuana, how the drinking age of eighteen years, was perfect for attracting the wild adventurous crowds in the 60’ to make the pilgrimage to Tijuana, until the media reported the news in a way that made Tijuana a risk for United States citizens. Making this activity no longer a right to passage. For those not able to drink in the United States. Another activity that has disappear, is the army of shoe shine boys. I was one those that used to shoe shine on calle Revolucion (Revolution Street).
There are always those that do not obey the rules. That become the exceptions, seeing what a few beers would change these happy groups, to unrecognizable behaviors of drunks falling, vomiting and getting into fights for no reason. The irreversible damage to one’s character and reputation. We agree that Tijuana was a safe place only for those with street smarts.
Carlos mention that he worked at strip joints as well as the local popular clubs. This discussion requires a subject that we are not at liberty to discuss in today’s social expectations… Tortas El Turco a place that all those that worked the streets would visit at the end of a busy night. To purchase tortas that it only took seconds to devour. “The one of a kind greasy tortas Carlos’s said” his face was reliving this
period of his life. His eyes and facial expression, this image stayed with me. Any time I hear his music of this Carnal of Tijuana. “Recordar es vivir” (to remember is to live)
Cindy Blackman his wife and drummer of the band enters the Escalade. Mr. Santana shares our conversation stating that I was from Tijuana. She is a seasoned performer with experience of diffusing this situation of Carlos connecting with his drivers. She asked a question or two then changing the conversation to tonight’s performance. Driving to the concert I tried not to cross the drivers professional protocol line. I predicted the bottlenecks; I manage to avoid them. Dave, the transportation manager was getting anxious, he started calling every few minutes, I mentioned what street we were on and our ETA (estimated time of arrival) according to the GPS.
The arrival of Mr. Santana is critical for the sound check purpose and the guitars need to be tested so the strings or any concert equipment needs to be in perfect working order. The audience energy is the fuel that starts the wave of anticipation to see the roadies fly with speed and grace, the unsung heroes. The seats start to fill. We as drivers have done our job. Mr. Santana informs Dave the manager that his Tijuana Carnal and fellow drivers are given all access badges we are told to go eat. They have chefs, meat carving stations, have wine, liquor bar, coffee station, it is the VIP area we receive a royal treatment.
The time is approaching, the audience is like bees trying to get to their assigned seats; the anticipation is like a volcano ready to erupt and then it happens; the roar its heard and felt by all. The concert starts. A single Note brings silence to a packed arena, followed by the energy of the music a roar, with the speed of light. The transformation of fifty thousand tired people completes, they come to life.
If you ever get a chance to see a concert from the stage view, “do it” you will feel a chemical transformation. You will notice people in the audience even those in the nosebleed area. The audience are a kaleidoscope, swaying with the song as its being played. The clapping, the screams, the music is a tapestry of what the world could be. Is what world peace looks like? This is what music can do, a harmony of sound. The noise of the world is silenced, letting the blanket of love and respect cover darkness, allowing the light to shine on all of us.
The concert ended and like soldier’s we drivers stood, ready to drive the group to the plane or hotel.
I was Mr. Santana and Cindy Blackman’s driver; I drove to their private plane.
Mr. Santana was exhausted. We exchanged a glance that conveyed a meaning that are no words in the dictionary. We are two carnales from Tijuana, that are living the dream both going home, we both did our job. We survived the streets of Tijuana.