Although Shakira Isabel and I don’t have much in common —she’s Colombian and I’m Venezuelan—, the 30th anniversary with my partner made me a little saddened by the announcement of her separation from Gerard Piqué. Poor Shakira, poor Pique. It is curious how this outstanding athlete is always on the target, the object of criticism and close to controversy. Sometimes because of his political position, other times because of his business ambitions, now because of his alleged infidelities. And soon because of the tough negotiation for the custody of his two children, something that is not going to be easy at all. I shouldn’t but I do worry about those children, raised in a beautiful and tilted city like Barcelona, now facing a future as different and flat as Miami.
Everything leads me to want an NGO against the separation of Shakira and Piqué. We shouldn’t allow it. We have to convince them to give themselves another little chance, my love. A Champions League couple, like that of Shakira and Piqué, shouldn’t be broken up by cheating, an offside, a few small betrayals. They are the World Cup. Are the waka waka of our sentimental ambitions.
They shine. Precisely for this reason they captivated us when they began their relationship in that glorious World Cup, full of so much love and goals, where Carbonero and Casillas also emerged as power couple, who are now extremely divorced and cannot achieve the miracle of rebuilding their sentimental lives. Another argument to prevent this separation. We don’t want to see new Shakira dancing boyfriends, in the style of Jennifer Lopez, or Piqué girlfriends with bulging lips. And let’s stoically assume that another likely cause of the breakup is Shakira’s insistence on bringing her parents to live with them. A frequent habit in us Latinos: bring more people. As in our countries of origin there is what is called “the country situation”, at the first chance, for example, presidential elections with the danger of a military coup or that a candidate who is too leftist wins, the parents move to the country where they are their grandchildren citing fear of the “country situation” and that complicates the “couple situation”.
Oh… the in-laws! Oh… the ambitions! Luckily, a day later, María José Campanario gave birth to a third son for Jesulín de Ubrique, who already has two famous daughters on the payroll, Julia and Andrea Janeiro. Aside from DNA, the girls have little in common. Andrea is the discreet daughter of Belén Esteban, People’s Princess, and Julia is the stunning daughter of María José. Jesulín de Ubrique is best known for his trajectory as an iconoclastic bullfighter, but it is worth remembering that he also began a musical career that was never as ambitious as that of Shakira Isabel but did give birth to such an unforgettable success as the waka waka what was that toa toa.
Campanario and Shakira don’t have much in common either. They probably don’t even know each other but they can serve as proven examples of how to carry out a media relationship. With children, trouble with the Treasury, with alpha males and with overflowing testosterones. I hope that with this birth ambitions, the family farm in Ubrique, is strengthened, that it is not forgotten or poorly sold. We must not allow this popular architectural emblem to suffer the same fate as the Socialist Party in its Andalusian labyrinth.
Love, like politics, is always a labyrinth. As beautiful and dreamy as the one built by Cristina Iglesias in the entrance courtyard of the Royal Academy in London. Going into it, late on a Wednesday afternoon, rekindled my admiration for this artist inside me. Although surrounded by a cheesy little garden with a messy English air, the work is a green spring that, dripping, evokes the humidity of love, that mysterious dew that clouds the senses, disorients and enlivens beauty, emotion, however long it lasts.