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My family, as many Mexican families do, has always enjoyed a good laugh; even in the midst of difficult situations, or perhaps because of them, we have managed to amuse each other. Sometimes we laugh out loud, a carcajadas , until our stomachs or cheeks hurt; other times, we enjoy a good riddle or a chiste that elicits a smile. My mother, Carmen Ruiz Abril, who usually appeared to everyone as too serious and quick-tempered, had a loud laugh whenever my tía Rita, her youngest and only sister out of six siblings, would joke around with her. Mom loved music, and it was no mystery why she married my father, Jesús Urquijo Chávez, since he played two types of guitar—classic and requinto—really well. There were eleven children (three boys, eight girls) in my family back in 1980. At that point I was the third youngest and one of my father’s favorites. He died when I was about to turn nine years old, but I remember his profound knowledge of jokes and music . On Sunday afternoons Dad would sit most of his children down around him to enjoy the music from his guitar. Since he could not sing and could not remember lyrics as well as he could remember the music, I was usually the one he would ask to sing a song while he played. Of course, I would oblige con gusto, as I felt very special to have him entrust me with such a big task. My memory, as it relates to music, has always been excellent, and I would not disappoint him as he played song after song and I sang each one from beginning to end. “Gema,” a beautiful bolero, was one of our favorite songs. He and I also knew that Mom loved “Gema,” so we would dedicate it to her often. When my mom and dad got married, our paternal grandmother, Dolores Chávez, gave them two adobe rooms that she separated from her home by planting a few tall plants for a little bit of privacy. My dad was a maestro de obras, and he could design and construct any structure, from a simple house to a mansion; however, he only managed to build three walls that he attached to the old adobe structure—never finishing the addition that was supposed to be a large room. Instead, the two adobe rooms had to be multipurpose : one was a kitchen by day and my parents’ bedroom by night as they preface: wild tongues/Lenguas Necias xiv wild tongues slept on the floor, and the other functioned as a bedroom, a living room, a sewing room, and a TV room all at once. It was in this second room where I remember sitting in front of our black-and-white TV watching Cantinflas, Tin Tan, La Willy, and other actors in classic Mexican movies, where I was first introduced to many of the characters covered in Wild Tongues: Transnational Mexican Popular Culture. Often, my siblings and I would sit together , fighting for space on the only bed in the room, to watch these films. I remember everyone laughing at the slapstick comedy and linguistic maneuvers that these comedians would present. Our small television set had lost its main plastic dial, and every time we needed to change the channel we would get a small electric shock when we touched it. When the films were getting boring, which meant less slapstick and more talking, inevitably one of my older brothers would touch the TV button. Then he would shock everybody, as we would usually sit in close proximity to each other. The fun would continue for a few minutes by having everyone form a line to be shocked. There was never a dull moment at home. How could there be with so many intelligent, mischievous children who had to be entertained? Little did I know that I would be storing memories that would surface and provide me with fodder for my scholarly pursuits. When my dad died at a young age, Mom was forced to raise us by herself . With him no longer around, I was forced to defend and protect myself and my two younger sisters from the older brothers, who would bully and push us around. I was small in age and stature, so I mostly had to defend myself verbally; this is where my “Wild Tongue” comes in. My middle name became “hocicona/loudmouth” as well...

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