as jon secada sings the national anthem at game 4 of the world series (and after announcing the latino dream team with two panamamenos by the fucking way), i am reminded of my friend ken's party circa 1993. a house full of people. ken came up to me in the kitchen and pointed to some dude in his living room.
'is that jon secada in my living room?'
'i dunno, man, but it does look like him.'
'hold things down, ub, i'm going to tell that sappy mutherfucker to get out of my house.'