It was the synthesis -and suma- of the Spanish popular wit and picaresque porteña. Their land brought grace, He lavished in spurts. His years in Buenos Aires and bohemian world gave him the sardonic wit.

Your name will be forever linked to that of Discépolo, with whom he lived the last 24 years of the brilliant author.

But Tania -Ana Luciano Divis, her real name such, life had. I had always. He is overflowing joy when captivated Enrique Santos Discépolo at the Folies Bergère, back in 1927, singing "Tonight get drunk".

They came from very distant worlds. The, so, somewhat timid still under the shadow of Armando, his older brother. She, a radiant Rattlesnake.

I treated a lot of recent years at his home in Callao Avenue, where he lived with Discépolo. There we became friends. His generous wisdom of someone who knows a lot but does not show it. He knew the ins and outs of life, an intense life, overflowing. A life of joys and sorrows, and when he died his only daughter, of not speaking, and friends do not recall wondering sadness.

I was always party, joyful, Elegant, coquette, still dressed in entrecasa. I never heard her speak ill of someone. It hurt, yes, forgetful forgetting those who put rate to friendship and affection. But he did not say. One time, to spending, he commented: "You know Tonito, Fat (Anibal Troilo) Worse always said a thankless an untrustworthy…»

He was always up to date. It was not the old (Can I use the word old Tania?…) He is speaking of the past. His comments today were desopilantes. I wanted to know -for example- why Menem had argued with Alfonsín or what would happen to Bill Clinton "That thing that happened to him with Monica…».

But the recurring theme was Discépolo. Not because she brought him into her talks, but because we reveled friends with the salt shaker their stories and especially his account of how life began together.

Usually we arrived at her house in the late afternoon. We waited with sandwiches and a whiskey that we repeated insistently with her despite protests from my wife. Before dinner, he asked me to sing a tango.

Singing was a physiological need for Tania. And it did wonders, with an enviable tuning. Singing voice, with his eyes, their gestures, with his silences. I knew the tango tells a story and have to say it, not shout it. The transmitted word by word. Hence that particular phrasing dosed with experience only teaches time.

Lived making plans. And to achieve them!… Recently he told me: "We have to prepare a tour of Spain. I sing in Toledo, where I was born, and Valencia, where I spent my early years. Here are my nieces whom I love very much. And do not forget Paris…».

After the tangos, dinner came. Amazed appetite. Never knew if the liver was part of your body and your metabolism. And during the meal again review their plans. "Do not forget to call Spain to prepare the tour».

Being a friend of Tania was one of the privileges that gave me life.

They say he had 98 years… perhaps 105… Does matters? Tania was a myth, and myths are only present.

Source: todotango.com