One man's café is another man's wine

I cannot recall the first time I heard a Celia Cruz song. But this was not because she wasn't famous or she wasn't a talented artist, but by the time I was born, Celia Cruz had already circled the globe numerous times and was considered a legend. I'm assuming that the first time I heard a Celia Cruz song, I was in the womb. When I was a mere infant, the music would play while my mother swayed her hips and cleaned our home.

It was that infamous "Azucar" that reassured the many Cuban exiles of their presence in this country. It was that bright colored hair that gave them a sense of pride because you could easily spot it in any crowd. The Cuban exile community weren't just fans of the Salsa Queen; they were the Salsa Queen. There was never any question of what she wore or what color her hair was because that was Celia Cruz and you just didn't question her. She had earned the right to do whatever the hell she wanted. Like Madonna, but with more respect. Like Cher, but with more dignity. Like Elvis, but with more pride. There will never be another Celia Cruz.

I recently found out about the exhibition at the National Museum of American History that is called , "¡Azúcar! The Life and Music of Celia Cruz". While the exhibition is so well deserved, it is amazing and shocking that it is actually there....for ALL to see. You see, although Celia Cruz passed away from brain cancer in 2003, we (and by 'we' I mean Cuban-Americans, Cuban exiles, etc.) still play her music as if she is alive and kickin'. We still consider her to be the only Salsa Queen. We still think of her as not only the wonderful and talented performer that she was, but also as our mother, daughter, sister, and friend. Her music still plays frequently on spanish radio stations and at weddings & quiñceñeras. It's an everyday thing to hear Celia Cruz's music, just like it's an everyday thing to drink un cafécito cubano.

Now, with this wonderful exhibition at the Smithsonian, our cafécito will be there for all to enjoy just like a nice goblet of wine for those who find our coffee to be just a bit too sweet.

And so with that I say, "Dale, Celia. Te lo mereces. ¡Azucar!"

Please visit: http://americanhistory.si.edu/celiacruz/