Tuesday 11.24.2009 | 4:23 AM EDT

I’m Your Taco Man, Yes I Am.

My Mexican abluelito onced asked my Welsh grandmother if she wouldn’t like a Jack & Coke, to whom she wryly replied:

“Why ruin two good things by putting them together?”

Indeed. I just heard a commercial hawking tex-mex to the tune of Joe Jackson’s “One More Time.” Now, I’ve come to excuse, sometimes even embrace, the tastefully placed pop song used to capture the hipster consumer’s attention. Nick Drake’s Pink Moon for VW. The Walkmen, The National for Saturn. Well done, Sterling Cooper.

But really, c’mon.

Don’t get me wrong. I survived my penniless 20′s by pawning record store promos to salsa with that spicy little dish known as the Taco Supreme. A cheap date is better than no date at all. And to this day, the mexican monkey on my back conspires against my dear wife’s delicious efforts at improving my diet.

But just ’cause José occasionally rocked a Latino pencil-stache doesn’t mean he should be reduced to hawking nachos under his coat.

Bring back the chihuahua instead. That chihuahua was funny.

If you’re gonna do it, do it right.