A song request amigo.

Three Amigos.
1979. Many of our trips to Southern California we would often meet up with my cousin and his wife along with my wife and 9-year-old daughter. Meeting them for a spicy Mexican dinner. Sometimes my brother and his wife and maybe my cousins brother came along as well.
We would often gather at a restaurant named El Cholos or translated either the kid or field hand. But anyway, El Cholos in Whittier became one of our favorite Mexican restaurants because of its southwest style foods and it festive atmosphere. It certainly was a fun and easy place to carry on a lively conversation and laugh. We usually sat at a table for six or eight, served quickly with chips and salsa and drink orders were taken by attentive wait staffers. Once we decided what entre we wanted waiters would quickly arrive and take our dinner orders. And yes, the food was fresh, hot, and delicious.
What gave the restaurant a fiesta-like mood was its Mariachi singers. Three guitar playing Latino balladeers. All strumming, crooning, and singing traditional Old Mexico songs and wearing black pants and waist length jackets with decorative stitching worn over ruffled white shirts. Then topped with wide brim hats with dangling wiggling velvet bobbles. Just the sight of them was worth the price of admission. None the less they did a good job of singing the traditional south of the border songs.
When the Mariachi singers came our way our 9-year-old daughter approached the Three Amigos with a song request. Unabashedly she requested the three to sing Clementine. Such a request brought the whole thing to a sudden silence. The three stared at each other with bewilderment. But after a brief moment, they began
In a cavern
In a canyon
Excavating for a mine
Lived a miner
A forty-niner
And his daughter
Clementine.
Just that was enough for daughter to hear something she was familiar with and clapped. Extraordinary troubadours all of them. Audios amigos.