we love espanish guitar

I played a wedding yesterday. The bride had asked for what I thought was a rather odd processional. She wanted Tarrega's "Capriccho Arabe" Maybe she knew that every guitarist on the planet plays that piece- save one. Me.
Now remember that I said most of the cluttered stuff in my schedule have been on the calendar since before it was cluttered. Then the normal things come along and boom - clutter. That is not what happened here. This bride called less than two weeks ago. Of course I said yes. Then she said she wanted "Capriccho Arabe", and because everyone plays it, how could I say no? Surely I could learn it by then. No problem if I had time to look at it. But no time.
On Thursday I managed 45 minutes and was able to play sloppily thru the piece. Then on Friday night, after I got the kids to bed, I played for another hour before going out to see the sky.
The sky was incredible – clear, dark and star-filled. So I decided to bring my guitar out and play on the deck. I turned all the lights off in the house and went out. After about an hour, I thought I'd better get back in and work on "Capriccho Arabe" again, but I couldn't bear to turn on lights and go inside. So I tried to play it from memory. After fumbling around for a few minutes, I was able to do it. So I stayed out and worked on it in the dark. I played on the deck for a long time. I began to actually like "Capriccho Arabe" for the first time in many years. I remembered it's allure when it was fresh – before I'd heard everyone from my gradschool days play the piece. Before it had been included on every "20 greatest guitar works" compilation and anthology sold by coffee shops and Victoria's Secret. But I still couldn't quite imagine it as a bride's processional.
I arrived at the wedding about 50 minutes before the start, 20 minutes before I was to start playing the prelude. When I got there, there were only two people there, an elderly man and woman. The woman saw me come through the door and walked straight up to me and said, "we are Espanish. We love Espanish guitar." I said, "good to meet you, I plan to accommodate your tastes." Of course I didn't know that a moment ago. So now I know why the peculiar processional.
By the time I had played for 20 minutes or so, the room was packed with guests. Precisely half of them were milling about speaking Spanish, and half of those seemed to be over-sixty, matronly, ladies. Long ago, I stopped bringing music to weddings for the prelude, because it is so enjoyable to be able to watch the guests as I play. This snapshot reminded me of a European wedding from the movies or tv, which it was, it just wasn't onscreen.
Now cometh the time for the bride to process. I took my cue and began the espanish flourish that starts the piece. I now knew why I had been given the gift of having accidentally memorized this little gem. I was able to watch the guests as I played the processional. Before I got to the second measure, all these, over-sixty Espanish ladies were swooning. Maybe they were transported back some 40 years when they were wooed with the likes of this piece. Maybe it was just that the groom appeared extra suave with this musical background, the bride, more mysterious. Whatever, I'd been given, amidst a very stressful and hectic week, a perfect nocturnal context to learn this piece, and a perfect context in which to play it. I wanted to wiggle my eyebrows while I played like I'd seen Angel Romero do to my wife as we sat on the front row at his concert years ago. I'll never forget those ladies and their knowing husbands sitting confidently (expectantly?) beside them.
I deeply regret that I can't share that scene with you. But I will share a snippet of the processional that I recorded just now. Close your eyes. Imagine the ladies...