One
Two FB friends, Oliver and Tony, are both great tango dancers. One left Buenos Aires to teach tango in the US, while the other left the US and moved to Buenos Aires to dance tango. They exchanged the following thoughts on the life of milongueros.
Oliver: "There is a big, big fantasy in many people's minds about the life of the milonguero. Many are in love with the fantasy of emulating this life, but maybe they don’t actually know what a milonguero is or what kind of life led them to this status. They didn't plan this life; it just evolved through their passion and their choices.
Imagine yourself as a 20-year-old going to the disco every night, hanging out with friends, trying to get that girl or boy you like, not caring much about getting a job, avoiding responsibility. Before you realize it, time has passed. You are no longer in your 20s but in your 30s, 40s, or even 50s - and still going to the disco every night. During these 30 years, you had to do something besides dancing. Maybe some of you chose to live with your parents (if they weren’t smart enough to kick you out), others took mundane day jobs or simple afternoon shifts just to earn enough to sustain the disco lifestyle. Some may have even considered other 'special jobs' - dangerous ones, quick money. There wasn’t always food on the table, and life wasn’t always simple. Promoters of the disco world saw opportunities to exploit these fanatics by offering more and more hours during which they could lose themselves in this dance. While others studied or built careers, putting their love of dance in perspective, you were - and are still - dancing or hanging out in this world.
When you reach 70, you've lived the life you chose. You didn’t plan to become a 'milonguero' - or, in this case, a 'discoero' - it just happened because of your choices. You simply lived! Had you known the outcome, would you have done the same?
There’s a fascination with milongueros in Buenos Aires. Unfortunately, time is the enemy, and most are now resting in peace. Looking back, the question for those who worship them is: would you actually choose to live the life they did? It's like being fascinated by the mafia world - would you actually kill someone or handle situations where talking is no longer an option? You can't be a tough guy without being tough. I heard someone say, 'I am living the life of a milonguero in Buenos Aires. I know the rules of the milongas, I know where people sit, and the icons of tango say hello to me.' But this is just the packaging, my friends, not the reality.
A milonguero is someone who spent their life at the milongas - dancing, chatting, hanging out, or just passing time. Some people have the sensitivity to see the milonguero as a result of life choices rather than a plan to become one. I’m not sure that every milonguero-wanna-be could make that transition consciously and pursue that status for the future."
Tony: "While I appreciate the metaphor - and even more, the American tendency to inappropriately romanticize the life of the milonguero - I ask that you consider an alternative scenario.
Imagine you don’t have the opportunities we have in the US… that your government is in flux and frequently reorganized by the military… that friends of yours regularly disappear, never to be seen again… that your economy periodically collapses and inflation is cyclical… that catering to tourists is your best economic opportunity… and that you both like tango and have the natural skill to support yourself through it.
Imagine that, over your lifetime, the safest and most reliable place in your world was the milongas.
How many American businessmen lie in a hospital bed after a heart attack, look around, and ask themselves, 'How did I end up spending my life this way? Working too many hours… my loved one is a stranger, if we’re not already divorced… I missed my children growing up because I worked too much… I spent my life, not with friends, but pursuing “financial security,” and in the end, I ended up here.'
Oliver, one thing we completely agree on: 'They didn't plan this life; it just evolved through their passion and their choices.' And with those choices, we must ultimately accept responsibility for the outcomes."
Two
While opinions vary on whether the life of a milonguero is worth living, both sides draw from factual observations. This divergence invites deeper questions: How should we live? What defines a good life? Why are certain lifestyles admired, while others are dismissed? And would public perception change if dancing tango could bring wealth?
From a young age, we’re taught to study hard, work hard, and strive for success. This cultural conditioning drives many to make financial gain their primary goal, using every possible means to accumulate money. At the same time, consumer markets bombards us with ever more luxurious products, grooming us into refined materialists. We call this chase "the pursuit of happiness," and tie it to Protestant ethics, crafting theories like capitalism, private ownership, individual rights, and economic freedom to justify our greed. But no matter how we rationalize it, the sobering reality is that many of today’s global crises—intense competition, chronic stress, exploitation, monopolies, gun violence, doping, human trafficking, wealth disparity, political corruption, environmental collapse, and economic inequality—are rooted in this unbridled pursuit of wealth (see Mammonism).
Anyone with a sense of proportion can see that an unchecked obsession with wealth is unsustainable. The planet’s finite resources cannot support the extravagant lifestyles of eight billion people. These natural gifts, meant for all, should be used wisely, fairly, and sustainably—not exploited for personal luxury at the cost of the environment and future generations. The belief that resources exist solely for individual gain contradicts the principle of human equality, which we profess to hold as self-evident.
A truly civilized society should uphold values like simplicity, thrift, equality, sharing, and cooperation—rather than luxury, greed, competition, and monopolization. It should discourage the concentration of wealth in the hands of a few, and instead promote a balanced outlook on life—not the so-called “philosophy of success.” Such a society would support small, diversified economic models that encourage both sustainability and equity. It would not allow corporations to become so dominant that others cannot compete. It would ensure that all people have a fair chance to work together toward common goals, rather than allowing a privileged few to profit at the expense of the many. And it would reform democratic systems to curb the corrosive influence of money, rather than deregulating political contributions to benefit special interests.
Three
Recently, a story with deep meaning circulated online:
An American businessman sat on a pier in a Mexican fishing village, watching a fisherman pull his boat ashore, carrying several large tunas. “How long did it take to catch these?” the American asked. “About an hour,” the fisherman replied. “Why not catch more?” “These are enough for today.” “What do you do with the rest of your day?” “I sleep until I naturally wake up, then I fish for a little. When I return I play with my kids. After lunch I take a nap with my wife, and in the evening I go to the wine shop to drink and play guitar with my buddies. My life is full.” “I have an MBA from Harvard,” the businessman said. “Let me advise you. If you fish longer each day, soon you could buy a bigger boat. With time, a fleet. Then open a processing plant, expand to Mexico City, Los Angeles, and New York. You could make a fortune!” “How long will that take?” “Fifteen to twenty years.” “And then?” “Then you could retire, sleep in, fish a little, nap after lunch, and enjoy life with your friends.” The fisherman laughed. “Isn’t that what I’m doing now?”
This story presents two competing life philosophies. Whether it celebrates the American businessman’s grand ambition or critiques his tunnel vision; whether it faults the Mexican fisherman’s lack of drive or praises his wisdom—it all depends on the reader. Some might view the fisherman as lazy or unmotivated. But is he? If his philosophy of "enough for today" were adopted universally, how would our world change? Would we see less competition and more harmony? Would life be less stressful and more joyful? Would there be lass greed, waste, corruption, harm, and more simplicity, honesty, contentment, and goodwill? Wouldn’t the skies be bluer, the waters clearer, resources more abundant, and ecosystems more balanced? Wouldn’t the world be more peaceful?
In my view, the crisis of the modern world doesn’t stem from the Mexican fisherman’s simple approach to life but from the American businessman’s relentless pursuit of more. Tango dancers seem to understand this. They embrace a lifestyle centered on connection, affinity, and harmony, rather than material gain. Many even follow in the footsteps of the milongueros. I know several individuals who left lucrative careers behind to move to Buenos Aires and immerse themselves in tango. Their choices suggest that while money may be necessary for happiness, it is far from sufficient. True happiness lies in the contentment of the soul.
This is not a new insight. Across history, great thinkers and humble souls alike have extolled the virtues of a simple life. Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu urged detachment from worldly ambition and a return to nature. Tao Yuanming resigned from office to find peace in the countryside. When asked about the ideal home, Pittacus of Mytilene replied, “It has neither excess nor lack.” Even Forrest Gump put it simply: “There’s only so much fortune a man really needs, and the rest is just for showing off.” Yu Juan echoed the same wisdom: “Being with the ones you love makes even a humble home feel warm.” These people, like the milongueros and the Mexican fisherman, preserved something essential: the humanity we lose when we become slaves to wealth.
I believe the world needs more people like them. Our planet simply cannot withstand the devastation of materialism any longer (see The World Needs a New Philosophy).
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