But why not talk about other groups, singers and various authors who have made my adolescence worthy to be told in one of those American films that aired only one Italy 's summer after lunch hour of nap so to speak (which I regularly watched Latvian on my grandparents' suck my pollicione while my grandfather was sleeping next to me snoring deeply.) Then
. We were relegated to the Queen. That was just the beginning. Then came Carlos Santana featuring his many, many bands and friends. Only now I understand why every song had a different voice. Why was not him singing. It 'was one of those things that made me grow in all of a sudden. I remember that to kill time when we went to summer holiday by car on the highway, after I had finished counting the cars that sped us around, and after I had finished cross-stitch embroidery at cups and ducks, then put the Cassette 90 min Santana (The Very Best of Santana vols 1 & 2, 1988) and could not dance Oye como va because obviously I was sitting, then dance with your hands. You know when picking up all the fingers except the index and middle fingers, the hand turns into a little man with two legs. There. Just like the game "and Gigino Gigetto. At one point it had become an obsession with this kind of dance-anthropomorphic alternative that I had also designed the costume of paper and tape that I created and applied to the hands in amazement of my parents from the front seat, instead of saying that killing the creative genius daughter said that adolescence was very hard. The mine is that it was a beautiful life. Full of surprises and joys of daily living, the only thing was who do not share it with anyone because no one understood me. My friends listened to Nirvana, Guns N 'Roses, The Doors my cousin. That is understood, a whole other world. They wore Levi's jeans and tennis shoes, I close with a high waist jeans and Clarks pink salmon. Are things.
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