Yes, it's absolutely true.

My moment of glory. Fifteen thousand souls watching me. Apparently I didn't do too badly, even though singing has never been one of my talents, much to my regret, since in my younger years I dreamed of being the singer of a big rock band.

I was, for one night, three minutes that will last forever.

I reached my ceiling of fame.

I paid for that concert working some Christmases in 12-hour shifts from five in the morning to five in the afternoon, boiling prawns nonstop, tons of them. I also did gardening, leafleting, car washing. Then I started as a waiter to pay for university. I learned a trade.

I learned to get by in a foreign country, to stand up for myself, even delivering a plea in a language that wasn't mine in front of a wigged judge — the kind you see in British courtroom films — to defend my rights as a tenant.

I started businesses and closed them. I worked for 18 years at a communications agency where I learned and failed in equal measure.

I won the first Spanish-omelette contest in my neighborhood against all odds.

Want the recipe?

I have four children.

I also have two dogs I take running when I need to think. I run a lot, not fast, but many kilometers. I like ultra-distance mountain races. With four kids, running is more like fleeing.

Music is a pillar of my life. I firmly believe in using music in copywriting. Music appeals to emotions and makes memories stick. I can still see the camera flashes glittering in a thousand sparks while I hug Bryan and grab the mic.

I'm not telling you all this so you get to know me better — I'm telling you because that's how I write your proposals.

So yes, I like to slip details into my texts, little touches related to music. You never know where you'll find another fan of your band or your favorite song. And that connects better than any prepackaged copywriting formula.

If, despite all this, you still want to know more, you can subscribe to my Ñusletter. Maybe we'll share something more than a song.