Skip to main content

Selena Quintanilla Pérez : The Greatest Woman

 

 
 Selena Quintanilla Pérez : The Greatest Woman

Selena is the greatest female performer. Her star was the brightest. Her energy was her life, her life was her music. Her presence and passion on stage was her manifestation of all these qualities. Her voice was her lion's roar. Her energy was an explosion. Her explosion was a love for life. 

I am 56 years old today. I remembered her when she was alive. I appreciated her then, but I worship her today. We live in declining times, declining cultures. I will not speak negatively of others, only to say that I realize now more so how great Selena is. 

Selena was a very strong woman, a very feminine woman, and those go together hand-in-hand. She was a very sexy woman by nature, au natural, with elegance and purity. She became who she became. She was an original. Selena was a self-made woman. She didn't come from famous parents. Nothing was handed to her. She came from a poor family but a very supportive family.   

There is no woman like her today, certainly not with all these qualities and with all the passion and talent combined. Unfortunately, this seems lost today in the "West." 

Tattoos, vulgarity and profanities are no substitute, but a sign of conformity and mediocrity.  

I now often watch Selena as an inspiration and to refuel my soul, to keep moving forward in this declining world, knowing that I will never see a woman like this again in my lifetime, but also understanding that I was fortunate to have seen her shadows, her images, and to have heard her voice, her singing, her dancing, her movements, her smiles, her laughter.   

I felt an obligation to write this. It is my way of thanking her, for the world she made, and for the world I (and many others) can enter into to be with her. No politician or government program can give this to people. Selena's sense of life is unmatched. She was an original. God bless you Selena.      



Popular posts from this blog

THE STARCK CLUB -- BEING THERE

Inside The Starck Club DALLAS, TEXAS -- 1985-89: My favorite place that I would frequently visit in Dallas was the Starck Club.  It was located in the old part of town, where the once life-sustaining warehouses were abandoned and crumbling, right past the forgotten railroad tracks of the forgotten Industrial Revolution.  But this one particular warehouse was adopted and remodeled by the French architect and designer, Philippe Starck. The Starck Club was owned by numerous people, and one of them was rumored to be Grace Jones but this may not have been true. Getting into the Starck Club wasn’t easy.  There was always a long line and the club’s doormen were very selective about who they allowed to enter. Since I was in my early twenties with bleached blond hair, I was hip enough to pass.  I also wore black parachute pants while standing in white leather shoes -- all very Duran Duran like. The first time I entered the Starck Club I was in a state of shock and awe.  It wasn’

Meeting Wolfgang Puck and Robert Duvall

Crescent Court Hotel, Dallas, Texas DALLAS, TEXAS -- 1985-89: Luckily, a new hotel had opened-up in Dallas, and I was able to work some banquet shifts there.  It was a 5 star hotel called The Crescent Court Hotel. Its banquet manager, Jorge, had previously worked at the Anatole Hotel as an assistant banquet manager with Charles Lorenzi.  The banquet facility at The Crescent Court Hotel was minuscule in comparison to the Anatole Hotel, but the money was much bigger. Jorge was originally from Bolivia, was medium built and had wavy black hair, which wasn’t bad for a man in his forties.  He also had a big black mustache and a very large oval head that seemed out of proportion to the rest of his body. Before the banquet commenced, Jorge was always nervous and overly serious.  But after serving the dessert and coffee, he became relaxed and charming.  And as a banquet waiter, the money was always very good and so was the employee-cafeteria food.  And I was always grateful when Jorge in

SHE DROVE A CITROËN SM

SAN FRANCISCO 1983-85: One of my favorite places to go was a place called Dancers located on Harrison and Second Street. Dancers was a large, dark place with many colored lights flashing around as an industrial-beat of music kept breeding an inescapable aura of sexuality. At least this is what it felt like after several beers. At Dancers the libido was liberated and celebrated, and girls were dancing everywhere, including on top of the bar. And it was there that I would meet my first girlfriend, Brishon.  Earlier I had awkwardly asked some of these girls to dance but was rejected every time. And just as I was about to become discouraged, I saw an attractive female standing near the dance floor, leaning against a pillar with her arms folded. She appeared relaxed, confident and very attractive. She looked Mediterranean with her long, curly hair that fell over her bare shoulders. Her eyes were large and brown under thick, manicured eyebrows.  But when I approached her, she too would decli