Ramón was full of spark. I remember him playing cassette tapes of “sentimental” Mexican music on his boom box and, as can be seen in this photograph, singing along. I relished his energy and abandon both personally and photographically and spent many hours alongside him and his family in their crumbling home. One of the stories he told me of his childhood was how, growing up in abject poverty, he had been bedazzled by the activity at a “cabaret” located on the outskirts of town near his home. He would sneak over and peak through any opening he could find to see the festivities inside -dancing, coquettish women, music, drink, money being spent. Eventually, as he grew older, he found his way into the cabaret as a musician with a band. Predictably, the music gig didn’t last forever, so he became a house painter - making him one of the better paid people on his block. But by the time I met him, habits he had formed during his partying youth had won out, and with no savings he depended on his children and grandchildren for survival.