Quiet Time Ramblings

GO WEST LIVE IN MANILA (EASTWOOD MALL): CONCERT REVIEW

2011-11-11T11:39:00.000-08:00

The first time I saw Go West, I was, oh, about fifteen years old. I can clearly remember that it was a Saturday afternoon, and I saw them in a TV program that aired music videos. The song was “We Close Our Eyes,” and I was immediately hooked. I instantly loved the song, and it was just a bonus that the members of the duo, Peter Cox (the lead vocalist) and Richard Drummie (the guitarist) were as nice to look at as well as listen to. My then-teenaged-and-hormonal self took a liking to the guitarist in the duo, Richard Drummie, while my very good friend/neighbor, Ning, fantasized about the older-and-sexier Peter Cox. Remember that video? Peter showing off those muscles in that tank top of his? Richard, looking quite boyish and innocent in his suit? The two battling it out with that horde of posing dolls? I still get a kick out of that video, even if I’m now at the very ripe old age of forty-two. For some reason, whenever I watch that video, I get these strange thoughts of plumber-as-action-hero. Must have been Peter’s muscles and that humongous wrench --- which now strikes me as pretty Freudian and suggestive, really ...

Strangely, though, even if I liked Go West, it was only in the nineties that I bought albums featuring their music. I had a copy of the “Pretty Woman” soundtrack, which featured their hit, “King Of Wishful Thinking,” and their album “Indian Summer” ---- now THAT was such a great record that I wore my cassette tape out (I think I had to buy another copy). Alas, Go West sadly vanished from the airwaves and the record stores. Despite this, my fondness for the band never wavered, which was why I was so excited when I came across a blog post that said they were coming over for a two-night performance at the Eastwood/the Venice Piazza.

I thought of watching Go West’s performance at the Venice Piazza with my friend, Vicky, but due to circumstances beyond my control, I ended up buying a ticket for their performance at the Eastwood Mall in Libis.

Oh, Peter and Richard, you have no idea of what I had to go through just to see you perform!

No thanks to the blasted number coding scheme (no cars on the road after 3 pm), I had to be at Eastwood by 12 noon (the concert was scheduled at 7 pm!). Thankfully, I realized that Eastwood Mall has fantastic waiting areas (such cushy seats!), and that was where I spent the entire afternoon working.

After a leisurely meal and a short trip around the mall, I made my way to the concert venue, Eastwood Mall’s Open Park. After more than half an hour of waiting, and the host’s 4th or 5th repeated announcement (“In just a few minutes, we’ll be starting the concert …”), I realized the stunning, awful truth. The concert venue wasn’t going to be packed, the way it was during China Crisis’ visit. Let’s just say that the crowd was … quite thin.

I was absolutely stunned. I didn’t expect such a surprisingly puny-sized crowd, considering how popular Go West has been, at least to the Manila audience. It was evident that others in the audience also thought the same way. I really felt sad for the duo. They stepped outside their tent for a peek, and my heart really ached for them. Performers must love it whenever they see a huge crowd, and to see us … well, that was probably disappointing.

Why promoters insist on holding concerts on weekdays is beyond me. The response rate is almost always MUCH, MUCH better on weekends! Don’t expect people to come, even if it’s a Friday … do you know where they are? They’re stuck in traffic! Do it on weekends, I am telling you, the crowds will come. Why, look at Tears For Fears at the Araneta! Now, that’s what you could’ve gotten if you held the concert on a weekend.

And then it began to rain! Talk about Murphy’s Law in action. Thankfully, it was just a drizzle. Like true performers, Peter and Richard soon stepped onstage … after that host’s seemingly never-ending introduction (was that Jada of 89.1?). My God, why, why, why was she still talking when the duo was already waiting to step onstage? Sorry, but honestly, I wanted to kick her off the stage.

I noticed that Peter and Richard declined the sampaguita leis that were placed on their necks (I guess that would be a hindrance, when you’re already feeling the hot Manila weather and you’re wondering where the hell your usually packed audience is). But whether they felt disappointment in their hearts or not, they shucked it off the best they could and delivered a performance worthy of tens of thousands of people in the audience!

We were all allowed to advance to the front row seats, and so my seventh-row ticket purchase ended up being third row … and I can only say that their performance was worth more than the heavenly (as in, surprisingly affordable) ticket price. Though the duo didn’t have a live band to back them up, they sounded EVEN BETTER live … and we already know how great-sounding they are on their records.

The quality of Peter’s voice remains as intense, expressive and strong as it was decades ago, and Richard’s back-up work remains as smooth as ever. There’s really something magical that goes on amongst artists, whenever they perform. You just know when they “click”. Think Roland Orzabal and Curt Smith of Tears For Fears. Well, Peter and Richard’s voices blend so well together, you’d really think they were one!

And though our boys have now turned into middle-aged men, it’s such a joy to see they’ve aged quite well. Peter has gained a little weight and has gone bald, but I am telling you … man, this guy is VERY intense when he sings live! When he’s not smiling, he’s got this brooding, dark aura about him. He looked towards where I was sitting a few times, and though I’m pretty sure he wasn’t really looking at me, I swear, I had to look away. Think laser vision! This guy’s eyes just bore through you. His voice is equally passionate, and his smile, equally warm.

(NOTE TO THE LADIES: Actually, if you slap a wig on Peter's now-bald head and slip him into these ruffled shirts of olden days, he can very well pass off as one of those stereotypical romantic male leads. You would really think that, especially if you get to see Peter Cox, sweating buckets onstage, sweating so much that his white shirt is literally clinging to his body. Think of your favorite leading man, getting caught in the rain with his shirt on. You know, someone like Heathcliff in “Wuthering Heights” or one of those romantic male leads in a Barbara Cartland novel. You know, the kind of wet shirt look you want to rip off. Women, can you feel the temperature rising? I thought so!

What were Peter’s exact words less than halfway through the concert? “I LOVE the humidity!” I’m sure he didn’t mean it, but I’m SO sure there were many women thinking to themselves, “I love it, too!”)

Meanwhile, Richard still has this boyish aura about him, even though he’s very much a middle-aged man, like Peter. Compared to Peter, though, he wasn’t as energetic during the concert … I hope it wasn’t because he was extremely disappointed by the turnout. Maybe it's his general temperament? He had his rockin' “moment” when they unexpectedly performed one of the late Robert Palmer’s classics, “Simply Irresistible”.

The crowd did their best to show their appreciation, and I think (I hope!) the guys realized it, though I wonder if their whoops and yells were also to cheer themselves up. I am ABSOLUTELY sure that there were people out there who wanted to stand up and dance --- I was definitely one of them --- I mean, what? Not stand up, dance and sing to a Go West song? You have got to be kidding me! Absolute sacrilege! I almost stood up, in fact I was goading my two new acquaintances to release our inner teenagers and just raise hell, but we chickened out. I would have done it, but I would have looked like an idiot being the only one out there going crazy. The Pinoys’ shy side still kicked in at the last moment.

All in all, it was a fantastic concert, and once it was over, we lined up for the Meet-And-Greet. I brought along the covers to my old cassette tape, “Indian Summer” and a CD called “Don’t Look Down --- LIVE”, as well as this promo flyer I grabbed on the way to the venue. Actually, I had two, but I gave one away to one of the two people I met that night.

We didn’t get to have a photo op with them (though I noticed that this “rule” was shot down eventually, dang! We should have taken photos while we were there), but it was still enjoyable to meet them up-close and have our goodies autographed.

I think I was the second or third one to come up and meet them. My covers and flyers flew into the air because the fan was quite strong, but Richard caught them just in time.

I waited at the foot of the stage for my two new acquaintances, who came in line after me. One of them says something like, when she first had her CD signed (back in the 90’s, when the duo visited Manila), her CD had “XXXOOO’s”. So I said to her, “Don’t worry, at least now it has a heart (sign)”. Imagine my surprise when she said, “Whaaaat? Yours has a HEART?!” True enough, mine had it, theirs didn’t. And they actually ended up requesting the guys (through one of the organizers) to add the heart to their CD’s, to which they willingly obliged. Now I wonder if I got the heart because I was the person who screamed the loudest during the concert …

And that was how Go West Live At The Eastwood ended … at least, for me. All in all, it was a fantastic show, and a night where I got to meet new people. I suppose that’s the magic of music, especially when it’s the music of a generation. You meet strangers at a concert, and yet, it’s easy to initiate communication with them because in a way, the music is your shared history.

If I had a chance to really talk to Peter and Richard, I would say, don’t let the not-so-big crowd of Eastwood bring you down. It WILL get better on Saturday. The crowds will come, and they will definitely give you a fantastic show of love. And thank you, THANK you for the music! Continue making more great music! Come back soon!

The Eastwood Concert Set List:

We Close Our Eyes
Don’t Look Down
All Day, All Night
Eye To Eye
Faithful
Let Love Come
Tracks Of My Tears
Robert Palmer’s Simply Irresistible
Call Me
What You Won’t Do For Love
King Of Wishful Thinking

HOWARD JONES, HUMAN LEAGUE & BELINDA CARLISLE LIVE IN MANILA: CONCERT REVIEW

2011-10-11T16:19:00.000-07:00

To be honest, I really wasn’t sure I was going to enjoy this concert. Though I had bought my concert ticket waaaay ahead in advance (at least a month and a half ahead, that’s how excited I was about this), I had fallen prey to a very nasty case of the flu and I was still reeling from its effects on the very day of the concert.

I had gotten so sick the week before the concert that I didn’t have much time for what I call the “indoctrination” phase, my personal pre-concert ritual that’s really just a fancy term for playing the artist’s songs in an endless loop (you know, the better to scream and sing out with). In fact, I dragged myself out of bed on the day of the concert, still all woozy and wobbly, and slowly brought myself back into the world. Before I drove to the concert, I stood in line at the checkout counter for my weekly shopping duty and thought to myself, “Can I really do this?” I felt so weak that I could swear the world tilted a little to the left … and were those white spots swirling all around me?

But a flu certainly wasn’t going to stop me from watching this concert! So, after doing my grocery-shopping for the household, I picked Beckay up at home (she was one of my concert-mates for the night) and headed over to Pancake House, where we had a pre-concert dinner with my friend Cecile, my other concert-mate for the night. Based on my lukewarm reception to the spaghetti and pan-friend chicken meal (something that I usually love), I wasn’t sure I was going to be my usual happy, shrieky, singing concert-going self that night.

The crowd that streamed into the arena was pretty thin, even as the clock approached opening time at 8pm. If I were the concert promoter, I would have sobbed then, the venue seemed only 25% full at the time. We half-expected the guards to allow us to fill up the seats down below (they never have, they probably never will, yet we continue to hope for a ticket upgrade!), but as with other concerts, the people started trickling in after the concert began. Which makes me wonder … just what is it with people who come in late to concerts? I really don’t get it. When the ticket says 8pm, you show up BEFORE 8pm, isn’t that obvious?

Anyway, the concert opened with Belinda Carlisle, who looked so stunning that night, even though she was only dressed very casually in a black shirt, black jeans and flats. She was very gracious, and even told the crowd that she visited Paco Park and Intramuros the other day and found the city very beautiful.

Though Belinda seemed a little nervous at first, but the crowd’s appreciation for her quickly relaxed her. It was a pity, though, that she didn’t have a live band to back her up. Believe it or not, she performed using --- GASP! --- a minus one! Sacrilege! Truly unthinkable that Belinda Carlisle would sing onstage as it it were karaoke night, but there you go. Though she was good, I really believe she DESERVED a proper band to back her up. (Yes, Belinda, please keep your promise and PLEASE bring a band over next time to accompany you!)

http://www.youtube.com/user/limnelson1#p/a/u/0/4AV5l19LxuY

And while we’re at it, could the person who cued Ms. Carlisle’s music that night hit himself on the head for being so unprepared? Why, man, you couldn’t even cue your songs properly. Rule Number One: Never cue a song to play AGAIN, when Ms. Carlisle has just finished singing it. Rule Number Two: Never play a song WHILE Ms. Carlisle is speaking to the crowd. Okay?

Then came Howard Jones. Oh, my. Howard Jones. What can I say? He’s the reason why I dragged my friends over to the Araneta to watch the concert with me. He’s the reason why I bought my concert ticket at least a month ahead. All I wanted, really, was a chance to hear him play my favorites live … but Howard Jones delivered absolutely more than I expected!

First, there’s the visual backdrop, which really complemented Howard’s set. The video opened with a snippet of Howard Jones in the olden days --- remember his signature, spiky, streaked hair? It was followed by all these artsy, high concept, futuristic images, that somehow captured the spirit of Howard’s music.

He came out looking nothing like the twenty-something guy we saw on MTV, with his signature beret and spiky hair --- in fact, he looked like the rocker version of actor John Lithgow, with his shiny metallic blue blazer, his glittery shirt and his tight and shiny (or should I say, sequin-y?) pants. He performed with two other musicians, Robin Brawner and Jonathan Atkinson (I hope I got their names right). All I can say is, wow. Talk about perfection! This guy really knows his stuff, and he really came to Manila well-prepared.

What I’ve always loved about Howard Jones is his ability to create well-crafted songs that have his signature “futuristic, tech-y” sound. It’s truly an experience to hear them played live --- it’s really something to hear those synth melodies filling the arena. The sound was so crisp and alive --- at one point, the sounds that came from them literally vibrated against us. And Howard Jones’ voice was simply fantastic. It’s exactly as Beckay said, listening to Howard Jones perform was like listening to his studio albums. His voice was as solid and rich as it was back when I first heard him sing, and the keyboard-playing … wow.

Howard played most, if not all of his best-loved songs, but it was only towards the latter portion of his set that the crowd started to really go nuts. It all started with “No One Is To Blame” (the first “kantang sawi” of the night), which had me and the ladies clutching at our chests and going, “Aaaaw!”) But personally, I started to go nuts when he sang “Like To Get To Know You Well” (which brought to mind the movie where I first heard it, the cult classic, “Better Off Dead” starring a very young and very cute John Cusack), one of my all-time favorites. I was very happy that he also played “Things Can Only Get Better” --- have you ever noticed how positive and uplifting some of Howard Jones’ songs are? But the best part of the evening (to me, at least) was when he sang my all-time Howard Jones favorite, “What Is Love?” That was truly the point when I realized I could still scream and sing, even though I felt like a cell phone on low-batt mode. Flu? What flu?

http://www.youtube.com/user/limnelson1#p/a/u/2/4tTlEdwmn2M

By the time Howard sang his last song (“New Song,” to which Howard said something like, “Here’s one last song --- it’s the only one I have left!”), the crowd was sufficiently pumped up in time for the last act of the night, Human League.

So, where the hell were they?

There was an unusually long waiting period before Human League came out. Some people/crew had their flashlights and were pointing at something on the ground. Hmmm. I wonder what they were looking for, and whether that was the source of the delay. But finally, after what seemed to be forever, Human League came out onstage.

At first, I thought they seemed pretty stiff (nerves?). Philip Oakey (who I mistakenly thought was Giorgio Moroder … see what the passage of time can do to your brain?) looked like he had come prepared for rainy Manila weather, because he came out onstage wearing this black hoodie jacket. The ladies of Human League, Joanne Catherall and Susan Anne Sulley looked as beautiful as ever. Is there any lady hitting fifty out there who can look and dance like these ladies? Susan Anne Sulley stepped out with her blond hair swept up in a beehive do and her amazingly slender body wrapped in a very cute, short mini-dress (do they call that a tent dress?). She danced like a snake all throughout the show, bending her body and waving her arms here and there (sometimes I thought, was she doing yoga moves?) … we couldn’t help but imitate her dance moves from way up in the Upper B section, and wonder, if we danced like her, would we eventually look just as gorgeous?

Joanne Catherall has gained some weight, but hey, she can still move AND do justice to the outfits … I swear, when I turn 50, I’m going to dress up in a corset-y pantsuit number just like the one she wore at the night of the concert …

To use a common Tagalog phrase to describe them … “May asim pa!”

In between costume changes (I counted two?), the band performed a mix of songs taken from their latest/newer albums and their greatest hits … unfortunately, many were unfamiliar (that’s what we get for having radio stations that fail to play songs from more older artists. Are we such an unprofitable market that you won’t stop playing all those Justin Bieber songs? But I digress).

Just like Howard Jones, Human League sound as if they have been trapped in time … but in a good way! So well-preserved! It’s always a joy to hear artists whose voices remain strong, despite the passage of time. In fact, Philip Oakey’s rendition of “Human” (the second “kantang sawi” that night) sounded much, much better than the original, eighties version.

And speaking of well-preserved, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one impressed at how ageless the original band members seem. Philip Oakey ran … and I mean, RAN, back and forth the stage all throughout the set (look ma, no arthritis!) WITHOUT running out of breath or losing his voice … now that’s impressive! He was so impressive that I hardly noticed the guitar player who kept doing an Andy Taylor (you know, spinning all around on stage like a whirling dervish).

Equally impressive is the fact that this 56-year old man doesn’t look a day above forty. Wow. Talk about ageless! Of course, our discerning (female) eyes didn’t miss the fact that he looked so good that night (I still can’t get over his very manly chest!). Back in the eighties, he had hair on his head and he looked so very … well, girly. That night, he was all bald and we all thought, hey, yummy! That night, my friends and I didn’t just become Howard Jones groupies, we also turned into Philip Oakey groupies … which just supports my belief that older men are definitely IT!

Philip Oakey and the rest of the band kept a serious look on their faces throughout the show (to match the high concept performance, I suppose). But as with most of the foreign artists I’ve seen play in Manila, they all succumbed to the the hospitality and enthusiasm of the Pinoy audience. Philip Oakey was grinning ear-to-ear by the time he sang the final song, “Electric Dreams”. I guess he was surprised at how loudly the people sang along. That, despite the pretty risque images they featured during their first encore number (those soft porn-y images really could've gotten them lynched, come to think of it).

http://www.youtube.com/user/limnelson1#p/u/4/MkTQ0JzvnHQ

I was so enamored by Philip Oakley’s speaking voice (even though he talked so fast, all I could remember was him saying, ‘indeed’!), my friends and I ended up thinking the same thing … boy, what we would do to have this guy speak to us all night long … INDEED!

Overall, the concert was very good. And since I’m biased towards Howard Jones, I’d say it was Howard’s performance that made the night spectacular for me. Objectively speaking, though, I’d say having Belinda Carlisle as part of the concert wasn’t a very good match. Though Belinda is also an artist from the eighties, both Howard Jones and Human League have a more synth-based sound, and they’re more “artsy”. An act with the same kind of sound, say, someone like The Talking Heads, or the Pet Shop Boys, or New Order (now, THAT would have brought the house down!), would have been a more suitable match. Belinda Carlisle should have brought a band along to complement her still-strong voice. And I do hope the concert promoters will consider holding their concerts on weekends in the future. I strongly believe that having concerts on a weekday really places a damper on attendance.

Other eighties artists I’d like to see perform at the SMART Araneta Coliseum in the future:

Duran Duran (but of course!)
Tears For Fears (but of course!)
Spandau Ballet (the original line-up)
New Order (are they still around?)
Go West (are they still around?)
Scritti Politti
Modern English
Here’s a thought: The Bangles AND The Go-Go’s AND Bananarama in a back-to-back concert!

The set lists, as I remember them (actually, I had to Google most of the song lyrics I jotted down during the night to get a good guess):

Belinda Carlisle’s Set List:

(We Want) The Same Thing
I Get Weak
Circle In The Sand
Our Lips Are Sealed
We Got The Beat
Leave A Light On
Heaven Is A Place On Earth

Howard Jones’ Set List:

Pearl In The Shell
Equality
Conditioning
Hide And Seek
No One Is To Blame
Everlasting Love
Automaton (?)
Life In One Day
Get To Know You Well
Things Can Only Get Better
What About Love?
New Song

Human League’s Set List:

Never Let Me Go (2011 song)
Open Your Heart
The Sound Of The Crowd
Lebanon
Egomaniac
The World Tonight
Human
Love Action
Tell Me When
Mirror Man
(Keep Feelin’) Fascination
Don’t You Want Me
Encore: Night People (2011) / Electric Dreams

42 RANDOM THOUGHTS ON MY 42nd BIRTHDAY

2011-06-17T12:44:00.000-07:00

MOST MEMORABLE BIRTHDAY MEMORIES
1 Receiving twenty-one balloons on my twenty-first birthday (I can still remember those balloons crammed inside my friend’s car, while we went to the mall to watch a movie with another friend)
2 Receiving a surprise visit from my college friends when I was still working at Far East Bank, and being treated to a surprise birthday lunch by them
3 Birthday dinner with my Dad and meeting a classmate of his, who thought I was my Dad’s girlfriend (that was hilarious)
4 Turning twenty-two, just around the time that Mount Pinatubo erupted … ever have a birthday with sand in your eyes?
5 I can’t tell you, it’s too embarrassing!

MOST MEMORABLE BIRTHDAY GIFTS I’VE EVER RECEIVED
6 That cat clock with the moving eyes and tail (8th birthday)
7 Those bouquets of white and red roses that my friends sent me (expensive then, ridiculously expensive now, which is probably why I don’t get these anymore)
8 Nivea beauty cream from a male classmate back in college (up to now, I still wonder if he was trying to tell me that my complexion sucked, hahaha)
9 Phone calls from my other best friend in high school, Olivs
10 Duran Duran goodies from Olivs!

BEST CONCERT MOMENTS
11 Watching Barry Manilow live in Manila, and hearing him sing the long version of “Tryin’ To Get The Feeling”
12 Having the entire audience hear me scream when Barry Manilow played the first few notes of “Looks Like We Made It”
13 Hearing Barry Manilow sing “As Sure As I’m Standing Here” live
14 Watching Kenny Loggins live
15 Meeting Kenny Loggins backstage and having him sign my concert ticket
16 Hearing China Crisis sing “You Did Cut Me”
17 Hearing INXS play “Don’t Change” in concert
18 Meeting China Crisis after the concert, and having Eddie Lundon’s arm around me as our pic was taken (almost beats having a real boyfriend!)
19 Watching Duran Duran with Roger Taylor in concert last 2008
20 Watching Roger Taylor’s drumstick twirls (left me squealing like a little girl)

WORST CONCERT MOMENTS
21 Losing that signed Kenny Loggins ticket
22 Having that annoying-then-still-annoying-now Pinoy singer rudely interrupt our conversation with Kenny Loggins, only for him to monopolize Kenny’s time and attention … rude, man! Very rude! (No wonder your international career never took off)

FAVORITE MOMENTS OF ALL-TIME
23 Hearing Mass with that cat curled up at my feet … twice in a row!
24 Having my friends show up at Far East Bank to surprise me with a birthday lunch
25 Having my old pet dog, Tisoy (who unfortunately got lost) accompany me on my way to the jeepney station every time I went to school
26 Going out with my college friends in our first “grown-up”, very expensive trip to a fancy restaurant … and having our tip (a lot of it in coins!) roll onto the floor (hilarious!)
27 Quiet bonding time with my friend's dog, Jack, up in a ranch in Cavite

BEST COMPLIMENTS I EVER RECEIVED
28 Having a male college classmate ask me what shade of lipstick I wore (I wasn’t wearing any!)
29 Having a friend’s mom ask me (in Tagalog), “Hasn’t my son ever set his eyes on you”? (or something like that). Wow. I didn’t know that makeup and a halter-top dress could make me look so pretty! If she only knew that I had a teeny crush on that son of his, hahaha! (Alas, he’s a priest now!)

BEST GOD AND GUARDIAN ANGEL MOMENTS
30 Receiving financial help when we needed it the most, from my friends (you know who you are!) and our good old mango tree in the backyard. Our mango tree once produced a mind-boggling yield of mangoes (its first AND last!), giving us the opportunity to eat mangoes ‘til we almost burst, share the rest of the yield with our neighbors AND sell the rest to a supermarket (which ended up with us having the exact amount of money we needed at the time)
31 Meeting a family of strangers who helped pull my car out of a hole in the pouring rain
32 Slipping in the bathroom twice and not being badly injured
33 Having a bad fall in SM early this year and not being badly injured
34 Experiencing car flats or car trouble only when I’m at home, near my home or near a gas station

LESSONS LEARNED SO FAR
35 Being a person of character isn’t exactly easy …
36 You’ll know a person’s true character, based on how quickly he/she betrays you in order to save his/her butt, or gain something in return.
37 It’s disgusting how there are people who use their authority to boss employees around. Personal errands don’t count as part of your subordinates’ job description.
38 Show of religiosity isn’t the same as being a true Christian … be aware of the difference between the two!
39 Your true friends are the (hapless) ones who get to witness your actual meltdown.
40 Threatened, insecure, shallow, parochial and insular-minded women … they make the worst enemies EVER!
41 It’s never easy to be cash-strapped … but it’s a great way to realize that you already have most, if not all, of what you need, despite the shortfall.
42 Despite everything bad that’s happened in my life, I still believe in God’s goodness.

CHINA CRISIS LIVE AT THE EASTWOOD MALL: NO MORE “WISHFUL THINKING” … BECAUSE THEY’RE HERE AT LAST!

2011-01-23T01:28:00.000-08:00

All I can say is, talk about Divine Providence!

At the beginning of each year, my younger batch of girlfriends band together and share our wishlists with each other, a list of our wishes and resolutions for the coming year. Since I’m a music buff, my wishlist has always included a list of the bands I’d like to watch live. Now, I don’t know why this has been happening, but for some strange, Madame Auring-like reason, the bands that I’ve been including in my wishlist have been coming to Manila! In 2008, there was Duran Duran. Then came Tears For Fears in 2009. Now, in 2011, I finally get to cross China Crisis off my list!

How great is that?

I’ve always loved this band. I don’t remember how I came across their music --- whether I heard their song on the radio, or saw their music video. But I was in first or second year high school when I first “encountered” China Crisis. The song was Wishful Thinking, and all I could think of back then was, Hey, great song! And, Oh, they’re so cute! I was especially drawn to Eddie Lundon --- wasn’t he such a cute boy back then? Thankfully, my raging hormones provided the initial push for me to purchase their albums. With the exception of their first album (now, isn’t that pretty ironic?), I think bought a copy of every studio album they made up until the 90’s (the local music distributors stopped selling their records, now that really sucked!).

I was such a fan that I remember asking my snail mail friend and record reviewer, the late Goldwyn Morales-Azul, to review the band’s album, Diary Of A Hollow Horse. He did. Now, he didn’t exactly fall at the band’s feet like I did … but I continued to love the band, just the same. Now, I think I can even say I’ve gained a deeper appreciation of their music now that I’m much, much older. It’s such a shame that their songs have basically “flown under the radar”. After all, their songs have always had unusual melodies and deep, thoughtful lyrics … thankfully, though, their music can still be heard through internet streaming sites like YouTube and Imeem (for young music lovers and old farts like me to appreciate).

I have no idea why I missed their Manila concert at the PICC back in 2002 (I think it’s because I stopped listening to the radio and reading the papers --- I stopped listening to radio, because I thought everything sucked; and I also stopped reading newspapers, well, because everything sucked). Now, that was upsetting. Fast forward to 15 January 2011. Just as I mentioned China Crisis in my wishlist, the boyfriend of one of my girlfriends suddenly said, “But they’re coming over for a concert next week!”

Just like the time Roger Taylor twirled those drumsticks of his during the Manila concert, my mind sort of blacked out at that moment … so I don’t really remember how loudly I screamed…

WHAAAAATTTTT?????!!!!!?????

Turns out they’ve got a FREE concert at the Eastwood Mall on the 21st. My God. How great is that? And so I was raring to go … I didn’t care if I needed to be at the mall HOURS before the show (it was my car’s “coding” day), I didn’t care if I got lost on the way to the mall (I’ve only been to Eastwood twice and the last time I was there was, oh, at least two years ago), I didn’t care whether I was going alone …

Thankfully, my friends Efy (well, her name's spelled Effie, really, but for some reason, I like spelling it wrong, go figure) and Beckay accompanied me to the concert (and I didn't even have to drive!). I almost thought I was really going to end up watching the concert all by myself, but they both changed their minds and came with me (driven out of pity, perhaps?).

Great, right? I had my two friends sticking it out with me up there on the second floor of Italianni’s. It was raining hard, but we were hot and sweaty as we were all squeezed in the middle of the growing crowd (as Beckay said, NOW is the time to find out if BrandX deodorant really works!), we were getting cranky (standing for more than an hour isn’t exactly peachy fun, even if you’re listening to the Retro music mix of DJ Jon Tupaz --- did I spell his name correctly?).

The concert didn’t exactly start on time --- could it be because of the rain? (the clean-up people were shoveling water into their plastic containers using dustpans, I pity the poor guys who had to do this, that was probably exhausting). And the female host had such a LOOOOONG introductory spiel, it was getting on everyone’s nerves (I, for one, was so annoyed by her that I found myself saying, "I wish this girl would just stop talking and let the band play!")

So, given all these annoying elements, the people weren’t exactly that happy when the front act, Popseeds, came onstage. Which was a shame, because the band really played well. It was a tight set. I truly wish to see them perform live in the future, but my unsolicited advice to the band would be to try and find a way to relax and enjoy their music, even if they’re facing a pretty impatient (potentially hostile?) crowd. They seemed pretty stiff and emotionless in between songs … but they were VERY GOOD when they played their set (this band should be the opening act for other New Wave/eighties bands who might be coming over in the future).

But God truly has a great sense of humor, and knows how to spring wonderful surprises. You’ll never guess what happened next!

Efy and Beckay had a friend of a friend who had EXACTLY THREE VIP SEAT TICKETS … and guess who the lucky recipients of those FREE tickets were? Now, that’s truly divine providence.

What can I say about China Crisis? I’m absolutely floored. Gary Daly sounds exactly as he did the first time I heard him sing! Though they’re now mature men (twenty-something years have passed, after all), Gary and Eddie still look like they love performing their songs, though many, many years have passed. What a joy to watch. You just gotta love that look on Eddie Lundon’s face as he played his guitar --- eyes closed, a contented smile on his face. Priceless.

And what can I say about Gary? Oh, wow. I never realized how colorful a character he actually is. Very funny guy, in a flamboyantly swooshy, Just Jack! kind of way, which totally surprised me, since he’s never been like that in the videos I’ve seen of him. You should have seen him sing falsetto as he mixed in Minnie Ripperton's "Loving You" into "You Did Cut Me!" I absolutely love how he played around with that fan he borrowed from the audience (it was cold and raining, but I guess, it was probably as hot as summer to these guys). And he was so adorable while he fanned himself with his hand, before he partly unzipped his jacket to reveal … a white shirt with the band’s name on it! Now, THAT's what I call great Marketing!

I remember flinging my arms up and yelling, YES! when they played my all-time favorite song, You Did Cut Me … and of course, I had to scream when they played my OTHER all-time favorite song, African And White … if they had played the rest of my all-time favorites (The Bigger The Punch I’m Feeling, St. Saviour Square, among others), the night would have been more than perfect … but they didn’t, and so I would have to wait until their next Manila concert for a chance to hear their other musical gems …

Oh. And I wouldn't mind having the boys bring along their actual band ... the session musicians they played with at the Eastwood concert were good (a couple of blips, but good, overall), but nothing like the original ...

After the concert, the band had a meet-and-greet session with their fans. I stood in line together with Ronnie and Benedict (I hope I remembered their names correctly!) and we all talked about our love for China Crisis (and New Wave/retro music), while we waited our turn (It's funny how a common love for music can make strangers interact like instant friends)...

Gary and Eddie were quite friendly, when I got to them. I remember saying to Gary and Eddie (as they signed my copy of their Flaunt The Imperfection CD), “I waited for you for twenty-five years” (I should've brought my tapes, too, but I didn't have enough time to hunt through my boxes of tapes) … I don’t exactly remember what Gary said in reply. But from what I remember, he asked me, “Did you enjoy the concert?” I said yes, of course (I should have told him I only traveled to Eastwood to see them!). I don’t remember what he said then (my mind couldn’t process his accent that quickly, I think), but it ended with, “It’s nice to be back here.” Eddie had on a nice, polite smile for me (as he had for everyone else) … and he placed that good, old friendly arm on my shoulder as we had our photo taken together (I’m sure he did that with everyone, too!) … but I’m still grinning about that moment as I write this blog … oh, if he only knew that he was my crush way, way, WAY back in high school (and yes, I have to admit, I find him as cute as ever!). If I had my way, I would have pinched and kissed them both … such adorable guys, and truly wonderful artists and musicians! I truly wish they’d produce more material in the future, NEW material … they wrote such wonderful music when they were younger, I’m sure they can come up with even better material now that they’re older.

What a fantastic way to start the year 2011, don’t you think? I can’t wait for the rest of my wishlist to come true (how about a BIG concert featuring the boys? And another round of Duran Duran and Tears For Fears … and bring in U2! And Madonna! And New Order!

And here’s an addendum to my wishlist:

The Lotus Eaters
Pale Fountains
The Cars
Spandau Ballet
Culture Club (if they get their act together)
Everything But The Girl
Pet Shop Boys
Modern English

THE SET LIST (AS I REMEMBER IT)

Popseeds' set list:

Chamber Of Hellos by Wire Train
?
Unguarded Moment by The Church
China by The Red Rockers

China Crisis' set list:

Seven Sports For All (?)
Best Kept Secret
You Did Cut Me/Minnie Ripperton's Loving You
Black Man Ray
Strength Of Character
Tragedy And Mystery
Working With Fire And Steel
King In A Catholic Style
Wishful Thinking
African And White
Encore: Christian

ALBUM REVIEW: "ALL YOU NEED IS NOW" BY DURAN DURAN

2010-12-24T22:07:00.000-08:00

RATING: 4 and a half stars out of 5!

Okay, so the Boys From Birmingham are back, with an early Christmas present for everyone. Their latest album (thirteenth, to be exact), “All You Need Is Now,” has been released in digital form last 21 December, and is now available for purchase via I-Tunes (the CD and vinyl versions of the album are scheduled for release February 2011).

With the local I-Store being virtually useless to an audiophile and Duran Duran fan like yours truly (Marketing people of Apple, don’t you know you’re missing a significant marketing opportunity here? What’s the point of being a local I-Store, if you can’t even sell I-Tunes songs, for heaven’s sake? Might as well rename your store, I-Suck!), I have had to force myself to be content with the freebies, a free download of the carrier single and video (which are all available on I-Tunes, as well as their official website, http://www.duranduran.com --- talk about shameless plugging for the band … and I’m not even being paid here!).

The carrier single didn’t exactly make me go, WOW! But it did make me feel much, much happier. Or should I say, relief? I’m happy to report that the song has an upbeat, energetic feel to it. It sounds as if the boys truly enjoyed creating this song. Upon hearing it the first time, the first thought I had was, hmmm … Mark Ronson must really be a genius, he brought the band back from Red Carpet Massacre Hell!

Remember “Red Carpet Massacre”? The band’s last CD where it was so evident that the boys had gone to war (With Andy? With the music execs?), Roger had gone off on his honeymoon to be replaced by Nick’s synthesizers (Sacrilege! Unforgivable!), and the only ones in the studio were Simon, Nick and Nick’s electronic thingamajigs? The album that seemed so forced, like it was churned out only to please the music execs and meet a deadline. The very same album, the ONLY album I had listened to my entire life … that ever gave me a headache and forced me to take a pill. Where’s the “fuck-off decadence” a fan raved about? All I ever thought to myself was, “F---k! What the hell happened to the band?!"

Well, based on that carrier track, THIS wasn’t going to be “Red Carpet Massacre” part 2!

As for the video, well … it’s a little disappointing, in that there’s no concept … it’s a lot of montages strewn together … the band playing the song … the band recording … and what’s the deal with that aluminum foil-wrapped wall? But, I suppose it’s good to have a simple video, too, instead of some grand production number-video … that way, one really gets to listen to the song (which, like I said, isn’t bad, at all) … By the way, everyone gets a glimpse of Simon Le Bon’s new look (my friends Steph and Ning might be blown away by Simon’s facial hair, which I actually think looks quite good --- dare I say, sexy? --- on him).

(They should release a video album AS good as their Grammy-winning video album … and I don’t mean, show off all these models. And I don’t care if the boys don’t look like their twenty-year old selves anymore. Just give us something just as innovative and creative, cutting-edge and all-around great!)

Thanks to global I-Tunes, which actually features snippets of the songs, I now have an idea of what the songs from the new album sound like. My verdict?

THANK YOU, MIRACLE WORKER MARK RONSON! THE BOYS ARE BACK, AND THEY’RE RAISING HELL!

While this album isn’t anything like their older material (as one reviewer said, this isn’t “Son Of Rio”), there’s much of the vintage Duran in here. I’m not saying that the songs sound like they come from the eighties, the songs (thankfully) all sound current… I’m talking about the general “feel” of the songs, the energy level. How the boys (now men) managed to sound like this in this record, considering they’re all in their fifties … it’s a wonder. But, hell, I’m not complaining!

If Roger and John were noticeably absent in the “Red Carpet Massacre” album (you know, the kind of absence that makes you swear like a sailor), well, they’re back with a vengeance in “All You Need Is Now”! Oh, my God. Their playing alone makes this album worth listening to! Play-that-fooking-bass, John, indeed! As for Roger (who’s always been my all-time favorite drummer … and man!), he bangs on those drums and percussion instruments of his as if his very existence depended on it. So precise, just like a metronome … yet, so full of his signature, runaway, out-of-control, let-me-rip-your-clothes-off-and-let’s-get-it-on-bang-a-gong-anytime-anywhere primal lust! Oh, man. If you ever come back to Manila for a concert, I will probably explode with joy! Can't wait to hear you play live again (and watch those fantastic stick twirls!) ...

Nick’s synth-playing reminds me of some early songs, like “Last Chance” on the stairway … what makes me happy (and relieved) is, he didn’t sound like a solo performer on this album! I’m also happy to report that Dom, their current guitarist, appears to have a good platform for his guitar-playing … he complements the boys’ playing quite nicely.

As for Simon, well, I find it strange (but in a good way!) that he sounds much better now … I have yet to buy the album to discover if he’s come up with some lyrical gems a la “Ordinary World” or “Save A Prayer” … but so far, so good!

I can almost imagine Andy saying, “Boys, I told you so!” He’s right, you know. Never mess with the original formula. Think Coke Original versus Coke Cherry. The Boys were good, very good, excellent even back then … and it’s a good idea to just build something from that. And this is just my opinion, but I think the band can build a stronger musical legacy, make more people happy (and earn more!), if they just fund the production of their future albums on their own. Leave the money-hungry music execs out of the creative process!

(Which makes me wonder what their scrapped album, "Reportage," sounded like ...)

Three reasons why you must buy this album: (1) “Safe”; (2) “Girl Panic”; (3) “Runway Runaway”.

Now, I read somewhere that Roger said this might be the band’s last album. Well, hopefully, this won't be so anymore ... considering how they’ve hit number 1 on the Digital Downloads list in US, Canada and Italy. And hopefully, local radio stations will think of giving their songs regular airtime (aren’t we all tired of the same crappy songs being played ad infinitum?). And local concert promoters, lookie here! You have got to bring the boys back for a concert series here in Manila (make it a weekend, at least!) … I’m sure you’ll make a killing (why, just think of what happened with Tears For Fears last year!). Give these guys a chance to raise hell and show the upstarts, THIS IS WHAT A BAND SHOULD BE LIKE!

This wanna-be record reviewer and music journalist gives “All You Need Is Now” four-and-a-half stars out of five!

Can’t wait for the local release and the Manila concert tour!

2010-12-21T10:07:00.000-08:00

TEARS FOR FEARS LIVE IN MANILA: SOWING (AND REAPING) THE SEEDS OF LOVE … TWENTY-SIX YEARS LATER

2010-05-05T17:44:00.000-07:00

Better late than never!

All I can say is … I knew this was going to be a big event … but I had NO IDEA it was going to be THAT BIG!

CHAPTER 1: WATCH ME (OR SHOULD I SAY, MY WALLET) BLEED

The moment Curt Smith officially informed his fans that he and Roland Orzabal were indeed coming over to Manila, I launched into my appointed role as stalker … er, lookout, for the concert tickets. Checking out the Ticketnet and Ovation Productions websites daily before attending to regular e-mail became part of my daily computer routine. It was frustrating, to say the least --- imagine a kid at the backseat of a car, nagging his folks, “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?” Well, just change the kid into yours truly, the folks into Ticketnet or Ovation, and me asking them, “Are the tickets there yet? Are the tickets there yet? Are the tickets there yet?”

Once my friend Cecile told me that Ovation had finally issued press releases on the concert, I called up Ovation and asked about the tickets (the waiting was killing me). The tickets weren’t available yet, but the ticket prices were. Steep prices, I must say! With my very tiny budget, front row tickets were out of the question … fortunately, there was still enough for Upper Box tickets (reserved seating).

My friends and I decided we would spring for the Upper Box tickets as soon as they were available … I’m really impressed with Ticketnet’s customer service. I called them up, and a representative promised she’d get back to me as soon as the tickets were available … you never really believe they’d do that, but guess what? She really did!

I immediately made the online reservation, and the concert tickets were in our hands within forty-eight hours. It was when we made the purchase that I started thinking that this concert was going to REALLY sell, because the Upper Box tickets were halfway-sold by the time we bought our tickets at SM’s Ticketnet!

CHAPTER 2: LISTEN (AND WATCH!)

I usually get myself primed for the concert by a process I call “Indoctrination,” which is really just listening to the visiting artist’s songs in an endless loop, days (even weeks!) before the actual concert date. I became a regular visitor of Imeem.com --- have you any idea how FANTASTIC this website is? It’s a website that provides online streaming of thousands upon thousands of songs and albums by your favorite artists. It’s truly a music lover’s find, and I was ecstatic to discover I could listen to many of Tears For Fears’ brilliant albums online, via that website.

So, you’ve got the forever brilliant “The Hurting” and “Songs From The Big Chair” album over at Imeem.com, but there are also their wonderful greatest hits compilations, and the not-as-popular (but still brilliant) “Everybody Loves A Happy Ending,” among others.

It’s on these albums that you see the evolution in the band’s relationship, their artistry, and their own development as men. Honestly, while I do miss the angst in their earlier songs, I must say I also like their newer creations (like “Secret World,” “Call Me Mellow” and “Floating Down The River”). The angry young men of Bath have evolved into mature (in a good way!), well-adjusted, forty-something men … not a bad thing, after all, considering how many other of their equally brilliant peers have gone the OTHER way of self-destruction. Think Michael Hutchence, Michael Jackson, among others …

CHAPTER 3: MEMORIES (DON'T) FADE

A few hours prior to the concert, I painted my toenails a happy shade of fuchsia (my best friend Steph will probably call it “put*-pink”!), then gave my good old Tears For Fears Greatest Hits DVD a spin. Wow. It’s wonderful seeing all these videos again, I had no idea how well made they were. No flash and glamour here, unlike Duran Duran’s older videos, but the memorable images are still there --- I don’t think any Tears For Fears fan will forget them. The airplanes whizzing past Roland and Curt in “Pale Shelter,” the alligator (crocodile?) chomping on Roland’s guitar, the masked creatures in “Change,” the library with the flying cards in “Head Over Heels,” the strip dancer and her boxer-mate in “Woman In Chains,” among others … and the dance moves! Who could ever forget Roland’s signature dance moves? I somehow hoped I would hear “Mad World” and “Change” so I could execute those dance moves (I’d execute them badly, for sure, but what the heck!) …

And I can’t help saying this, but man, weren’t they such cute boys back then? And so cool! Roland, with his layered muscle shirts (is that what they’re called) and double dangling earrings on one ear (I remember I actually had a friend who dressed and danced like him) … Do you still remember what he looked like in the “I Believe” video? Dangerous upper body he had, with that chest … those biceps! (No wonder Ning, a close friend of mine, lusted after him, back in the eighties).

And Curt, with his reddish brown, braided-at-the-back hair, his heart-melting “Please-don’t-hurt-me” look … and that tiny, pouty mouth (You know, the kind that girls would have no problem kissing?) No wonder my friends and I had a crush on at least one of them! In our group, Curt won, four against one (As for me, I’ve always been a Curt groupie)! But I’m sure the vote’s evenly split, fifty-fifty, if you survey the other fans for their opinions …

And yes, there’s that woman screaming “Ang guapo pa rin ni Curt!” at the back during the concert … but I’m getting ahead of the story …

CHAPTER 4: START OF THE BREAKDOWN

Beckay and I arrived at the Araneta Coliseum a few minutes before six o’ clock. Very early, right? Well, that’s what we also thought!

Believe it or not, by that time, free and paid parking was FULL! We ended up asking for Valet Service. Guess what? The valet told us that people were streaming in with their cars as early as twelve o' clock in the afternoon! (Later on, we would learn that we were the last two cars that the parking attendants could accommodate in their valet service)

And in front of the Araneta Coliseum, there were all these long queues of people lining up, either for tickets or a nice spot in the General Admissions section.

Wow. This was going to be really BIG …

After a quick dinner at the Pizza Hut Bistro, my friends and I made our way to the concert venue …

CHAPTER 5: SONGS FROM THE BIG DOME

It was unbelievable how jam-packed the Araneta Coliseum was that night. Despite the REALLY steep prices (why, I’ve never heard of “Call for prices” as a ticket price --- why, are we buying designer goods here?), I could barely see a vacant spot. In our section, there were people who actually sat on the steps! Can you believe it? The STEPS! Talk about Standing Room Only!

I’m pretty sure this was one of the biggest, happiest high school/college reunions around … there were grown men and women all around, calling other batchmates and friends who were located elsewhere within the Big Dome. It also amused me that there were people our age who had even brought along their young kids to see the boys … but most amusing of all was the La Salle video shown onscreen, advertising their upcoming centennial (I hope I got that right) celebration … you just gotta love that Flock Of Seagulls song accompanying their advertisement.

The concert began earlier than the expected eight o’ clock. First to come onstage was Sandwich. I suppose the boys learned something from their experience serving as front act to the Duran Duran concert, which was, no one really cares about new songs in a concert like this!

So, the group performed a few nostalgia-based numbers --- what great choices for songs! They played something from The Cure, Gang Of Four and The Smiths, before calling in Ely Buendia for a nice rendition of “Alapaap”. Then, it was Ely’s turn to perform with the Pupil.

Now, I’m sure Pupil is a fantastic band, I love “Disconnection Notice,” but unfortunately, I’m not that familiar with their other songs. I think the rest of the audience was, too, for the euphoria dipped somewhat during their set (boys, learn from Sandwich’ experience --- think, nostalgia, nostalgia, nostalgia!). On their last song, their drummers all but smashed their tom-toms to pieces … I really have to wonder, was that really part of the act, or was that a temper tantrum because no one cared that much for the new songs? New songs are great, but unfortunately, not in a concert like this …

CHAPTER 6: EVERYBODY LOVES A HAPPY ENDING!

After the intermission (which seemed to last forever), the stage lights died down. Soon, Curt’s voice soared throughout the Araneta, in a melodic, orchestral version of “Mad World” …

Oh, wow.

I am telling you, I have attended many, many concerts, but never have I seen an audience react the way they did that night. Curt’s voice was all but drowned out by the crowd singing along to him … and the yelling and screaming! My ears were ringing from the noise! The shouting was so loud and powerful, I could swear the noise could literally have caused the Araneta to come crashing to the ground.

What’s this, a Presidential rally?

What a gracious duo, these two were. They waved and said hello to the ones "at the top," (to use Curt's words). Sigh. And they humbly accepted the crowd's appreciation. By the looks on Curt and Roland’s faces, it was obvious they were unprepared for this grand show of love and devotion from their audience. Roland said something like, they’ve been everywhere, even far-off places like Siberia (or was it Serbia?), but they didn’t know why they never considered coming over to the Philippines. (Yes, that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking the past twenty-six years, too!). Meanwhile, Curt said, “What a wonderful time, I'd have to say!” Amen to that!

So, twenty-six years later, Curt’s hair (well, what remains of it) has turned gray, and Roland’s chest has developed man boobs (not sure it's true, but it's as one of us teasingly commented), and of course, their audience has turned into middle-aged men and women … but so what? That magical night, for two hours or so, Curt and Roland played their guitars and sang as if they were still the Boys Of Bath from the eighties, and we sang, danced and yelled as if we were still their very hormonal audience.

I missed seeing Roland’s dance moves, but the hip sway was still there (hey, I could dance with a man like that all night, who cares if my knees are creaking!). You gotta love those screams, too! Though Curt wasn’t as animated as Roland, I loved the way he sang and performed … very cool and soothing. It’s probably like diving into an ice cream sea in the middle of a searing hot summer day. Note that I said ice cream sea … isn’t it doubly pleasant compared to diving into plain water?

And of course, I still can’t help saying this, but they still look great --- to use a word I once heard --- PHENOBULOUS! Like I mentioned before, I heard this woman at the back screaming, “Ang guapo pa rin ni Curt!” (“Curt still looks handsome!”) Yes, I say! And I wasn’t the only one screaming, “I love you! I love you!” to the boys, hahaha!

As expected, there was a slight dip in energy when the boys performed their newer songs --- unfortunately, this is what happens when both the artist and the market turn older --- they’re ignored for the most part. The older bands rarely get airplay for their newer songs. Consequently, their current material fails to reach the intended audience (Local stations and recording companies, remember this in Marketing! While your younger market may be larger, it’s the older market with the greater spending capacity! So, don't forget the eighties artists and crowds!).

Just the same, these songs were still appreciated with whoops of approval … then Roland began singing a song that came so unexpectedly …

It took me a while, but I guess I’m still the “I can name that song in one note” queen … because after just hearing Roland sing a phrase or two, I squealed out (that’s the phrase to describe the sound that came out of me, really) …

BILLIE JEEEEEAAAAAAAANNNNNN!!!!!!

And before long, the crowd was shouting and singing along to Roland’s acoustic, bluesy version of Michael Jackson’s old hit.

Boy, I wonder what magic they could do to MJ’s “P.Y.T.”!

After “Billie Jean” came my most-awaited song, “Pale Shelter” … oh, my goodness. I thought my heart would burst from so much happiness hearing that song performed live! I would have loved to fling paper airplanes down their way, just as in the video.

Then, after two more songs, the band left. What an explosion of sound, clamoring them to come back for an encore! Alas, there was the unfortunate, unpleasant snippet of the Big Dome’s cameras panning over to where Korina Sanchez sat … my friend Cecile said to me later on that she was afraid Curt and Roland would think the crowd was booing THEM, but I told her I’m pretty sure they were told why that happened.

I feel a little bad for Korina, who was probably just sitting there, enjoying the concert as an ordinary citizen. Though I perfectly understand that people would not want a dose of reality in the middle of a perfect concert (much less politics, everyone’s sick of it, really --- can't we leave the elections for two hours of entertainment, at least?!), I still think the boos were uncalled for. The cameraman who panned to her a SECOND TIME after the first round of boos … man, what were you thinking?!

Thankfully, that unpleasant moment was quickly averted, when the boys returned for their encore. And talk about a fantastic encore! They performed one of my all-time favorites, “Woman In Chains” … and while Oleta Adams was not around to perform with them, they did have a most acceptable and surprising substitute … their all-white, all-male back-up singer! Wow, a back-up singer who can sing like a man AND woman is a great find!

Then came “Shout,” which officially capped that magical night. Roland said, “We’re coming back!” as he and Curt waved goodbye to the audience. The crowd screamed for more, but alas, a second encore was not meant to be.

So, I suppose we’ll have to wait until their return to hear their OTHER great songs, like “Change,” “The Hurting,” “Mothers Talk” among others … hey, I won’t mind if they turn into David Pomeranz, visiting the country on a regular basis … I’d listen to them ANYTIME. But lower the ticket prices!

A few hours later, Curt said, in his Twitter account, that the Manila concert made him “speechless”. Well, that’s what you get for making us wait for more than twenty-five years! A two-hour screaming, shouting, karaoke love-fest!

Thank you, Curt and Roland, for a night of music that’s so special, I don’t even have the words to describe it! Come back soon, and by soon, I don’t mean another twenty-six years :)

P.S. Ovation Productions ... you would make MORE money if you sold this concert in a boxed audio CD/DVD set! Anyone else agree with me on this? I would buy one! But don't charge us an arm and a leg ... btw, those signed prints were wonderful, same with the T-shirts, but charge us P2,000 each? Too pricey! Sell them again, but lower the prices, please!

P.P.S.

Now, I saw a post somewhere in the web about China Crisis coming over to perform at the Araneta on July 10? Fantastic, if that's true!

Who else should come over? Who's up for a concert by U2?

Or maybe Madonna! Or Culture Club (if Boy George decides to get his life together and reunite with the band a third time). Hey, what about a cavalcade concert of sorts, featuring New Wave artists? I'm not just talking back-to-back here, but a REAL assortment of sorts in a two-hour show! That would be grand ...

SANDWICH SET LIST

Just Like Heaven (The Cure)
Damaged Goods (Gang Of Four)
Panic (The Smiths)
Alapaap (with Ely Buendia)

PUPIL SET LIST

Disconnection Notice
?
? (song from their latest album)
?

TEARS FOR FEARS SET LIST (AS I REMEMBER IT)

Mad World (alternate version) / Everybody Loves To Rule The World
Secret World
Closest Thing To Heaven
Sowing The Seeds Of Love
Call Me Mellow
Mad World (original version)
Memories Fade
Raoul & The Kings Of Spain
Quiet Ones
Floating Down The River
Everybody Loves A Happy Ending
Seven Of Sundays
Billie Jean
Pale Shelter
Break It Down Again
Head Over Heels

ENCORE

Woman In Chains
Shout

MICHAEL McDONALD AND BOZ SCAGGS LIVE IN MANILA: STILL SIZZLING LIKE 'SISIG'

2010-03-17T09:13:00.000-07:00

For the first time in my concert-going life, I had the sinking feeling that I was going to go dateless. It’s very easy to find friends who would be willing to watch a concert, if the artist happens to be someone they’ve seen on MTV, say, Duran Duran or Tears For Fears. But invite them to watch Michael McDonald and Boz Scaggs and you very quickly realize there IS a Generation Gap, after all … and you’re left standing all alone, wondering, is my taste in music really that diverse, or am I just really, really old?

In a country where the Youth Demographic is Absolute King, it’s no wonder that old music (does “vintage” sound less painful?) has faded into sonic oblivion, while Cookie Cutter music (I almost said “crap”) dominates the popular airwaves. It’s really a pity that a number of today’s young have minimal interest in music from other artists, genres or decades. Believe it or not, young people out there, there’s nothing bad about retro music. You might be surprised at some of the music your Salonpas-smelling, feet-shuffling, arthritic parents listened to, back in the day. In fact, some of it is pretty fantastic, such as the likes produced by McDonald and Scaggs.

The first time I heard a Boz Scaggs song, I was in grade school at Siena College. Every day, without fail, the mono-sounding P.A. played two songs, right before they blasted me and my schoolmates with the National Anthem. One was a mushy song called “I Don’t Know Why You Love Me” (sung by a duo called Cotton Lloyd and Christian), the other was Boz Scaggs’ “We’re All Alone”.

Either my school didn’t have a budget to purchase and play new records, or the person manning the P.A. system was love-struck (or broken-hearted!), but I swear, hearing those songs over and over, five times a week for six years drove those songs deep into my brain. Not that I minded, at all. I think I was already a hopeless romantic, even as a kid, so I liked those songs, especially Boz’ ballad. Anyone who snubs that soft piano intro, and Boz’ distinctive vocals singing the intro, “Outside the rain begins …” must have a stone-hard heart.

When I graduated from grade school, my father gifted me with a gadget I’d been pining for since grade five --- a Sony Walkman, or what we now know as the I-Pod’s Super Lolo, a personal cassette player. It was on this beloved gadget that my love affair with music grew. I developed countless musical affairs with many artists --- from Abba, to the Beatles, Barry Manilow to Crowded House, Duran Duran to … well, you get the idea.

One of these artists was Michael McDonald. I don’t exactly remember why I decided to buy his 1982 album, “If That’s What It Takes,” perhaps it was because I associated him with another all-time favorite, Kenny Loggins. Well, I ended up loving Michael McDonald’s songs so much that I ended up wearing out AT LEAST TWO tapes of that album … and purchasing his subsequent albums (as well as his albums with The Doobie Brothers) over the years.

Fast forward to 2010. Michael McDonald and Boz Scaggs Live In Manila, March 9, 2010, at the Araneta Coliseum! After friends politely turned down my invitation (“Sorry, but I’m not that interested in watching RONALD McDonald,” one of them joked), I was ready to go alone … then, came a miracle! Turns out that one of my friends likes Boz Scaggs’ music and can come with me, after all! What are the odds, eh? I must be so lucky (either that, or I’ve got a really good friend who noticed how desperate I was to watch it!).

So, armed with our bleacher seat tickets, my friend and I finally headed off to the Araneta Coliseum for a night of music with Michael McDonald and Boz Scaggs. Right before the concert, we stopped by one of the nearby restaurants for dinner (Café Bola), where we had what seemed to be the least heart-stopping dish (I kid you not) --- Sinigang Na Lechon. We figured that some of the people eating there were actually going to watch the concert … we guessed, by the territory covered by their bald spots, to be fifty, sixty-something.

I must admit, though, it was such a trip to see we were the “young ones” for once!

At first, it seemed like this was going to be a “bangaw” concert. Showtime was slated at 8pm, but ten or fifteen minutes prior, the coliseum only looked like it was forty, fifty percent full. While I was praying they’d let us come down and take over the nicer, more expensive seats, I still felt a little bad, mostly for the producer (what a loss!) and the artists (how demoralizing!).

Thankfully, though, the coliseum began filling out beginning 8pm. By the time the show started (it was late by at least fifteen minutes), the venue was about seventy percent full. Not bad, considering how empty it looked an hour or so ago! A number of them were actually fairly young (mid-late twenties, early thirties), some even came alone. What, you actually chose Michael and Boz over Paramore? Surprise, surprise!

Michael McDonald finally stepped out onstage with his team of musicians … I yelled my guts out, it was such a dream come true to see one of my all-time favorites! Never mind if he came twenty-five years too late for me to feel “kilig” --- I had a little crush on him back in the day when he still had salt-and-pepper hair (one of the two rare cases when bearded men looked cute to me --- the other was Kenny Loggins); but now, with his full head of white hair and white beard, he either looks like Colonel Sanders or Santa Claus (still cute, though, despite the Santa Claus hair and belly) --- it was still a thrill to hear him sing live, for the first time. He sang “Our Love,” with nothing else as accompaniment other than his keyboards. I heard the lady next to me say, “What a voice!” and I wanted to turn to her and say, yes it was, truly was a voice that brings out the goose bumps on your skin!

For a fifty-eight year old man, Michael McDonald can still play the keyboards and sing those songs as if he never left the Seventies. Can you imagine your middle-aged Dad in a screaming wail while singing one of his favorite tunes? Can’t do it, eh? Well, Michael McDonald's capable of doing just that! Though there were a few moments when he seemed to lose some of the power in his voice, you could still see the passion in him. That night, Michael McDonald sang and played as if he were a volcanic lava rushing down the slopes. It almost makes me think he’d be rocking-and-rolling his head off, kicking his feet in the air a la Jerry Lee Lewis, if he got a little more comfortable (maybe he should have come out in a sando t-shirt, puruntong shorts and flip-flops!)!

I must say I admire his lady drummer --- talk about multi-tasking, have you ever seen any drummer drum AND sing, other than Phil Collins? Very impressive! Truth be told, however, I think the drumming was too loud, it drowned out Michael at certain moments. I think it was the kind of drum that she used --- they should replace it. But I loved Michael’s overall arrangements of his songs. The bluesy, honky-tonk-dive, what's-he-gonna-play-next piano segues, ultimately leading to his old Doobie Brother hits, were fantastic.

I was surprised by the lack of an encore, when the audience was so enthusiastic (then again, I'm biased); but I also looked forward to the next set. Boz Scaggs didn’t seem to be a good match for Michael McDonald (personally, I think Kenny Loggins was the better partner for a back-to-back concert with Michael).

But I was totally unprepared for the extravaganza the Boz Man had in store!

I wasn’t sure how the crowd would receive Boz after Michael’s last song (a kick-your-ass Doobie Brothers song). After a thirty-minute break, Boz stepped out, looking very casual in his tucked in white shirt (sleeves rolled up) and black slacks (Michael also wore the same get-up, only he tucked his shirt out). I must say he looked a lot different from the dark and handsome, come-here-and-let’s-make-out, sexy Boz of the seventies and eighties (he looks like a cool grandfather now), then launched into his first song … The first thing I noticed was how smooth and solid his musical team seemed to play. If Michael’s team was a little “jarring” at times, Boz’ team was perfect in the way they complemented each other’s playing. The best word I can think of is “layers,” every note was perfectly arranged to make every song soar.

If Michael McDonald played like fire, Boz Scaggs, at retirement-age-sixty-five, was all icy menthol. Talk about smooth-sounding cool! Though there was a momentary glitch in the sound system during one of his songs (I’ve forgotten which), Boz was like a steady river stream amongst the crowd. It wasn't that he didn’t have the ability to turn the heat up a little, from time to time --- but his performance, overall, was polished, precision-sharp steel. Think Derek Zoolander’s Magnum, it could stop a bullet in its tracks!

Both Michael and Boz were kind enough to give their back-up singers their “moments,” though I must say, I was genuinely struck by Boz’ generosity in giving the floor to his back-up singer, Miss Mone’t (I hope I got that right), who sang an old Basia song, “Until You Come Back To Me”. Miss Mone’t, with the big, undulating, luscious curves, voice AND personality, she was so fantastic, her number was enough to bring the crowd’s excitement to fever pitch! Only artists with big hearts AND small egos (I hope) could allow their back-up singers to take center stage (even for just for a little while!). Quite frankly, I expected the crowd to rise up in standing ovation at that performance …

I must say that though I came to the Araneta Coliseum to watch Michael McDonald, I was truly pleasantly surprised to be bowled over by Boz Scaggs. I listened to songs I had not heard of in many, many years, and was surprised to learn they were actually some of my favorites (I’ve always loved the songs, but never knew they were his until that night) … His is the voice that can hypnotize you with its depth … hey, before you know it, he’s got your heart in his hands (or your dress down to the floor?) … talk about vocal seduction!

Boz’ fantastic performance, his team’s smooth accompaniments warmed up the audience, after all --- but it was when he sang his encore, the walang-kamatayang “We’re All Alone,” that the crowd totally lost it. I was so, so surprised to hear the audience’s whoops and screams, as well as their singing --- so, I wasn’t the only person left in the Philippines who liked this song? Much later, my friend tells me, “We’re All Alone” is actually a famous make-out song … why didn’t I think of that? Ah, yes! No wonder! The completely unromantic Flag Ceremony …

Boz had one last encore song --- no, it wasn’t “Heart Of Mine,” which was a little unforgivable --- what? How could you leave that one out, sir? Why, it’s the National Anthem of Broken-Hearted Pinoys! Ah, maybe next time … and I do hope there’ll be a next time!

With most of the audience being reluctant members of the Katinko-Salonpas set (read: mga nirarayuma at masakit ang tuhod, like yours truly), the absence of much hopping around and dancing wasn’t really surprising. Though, from where I sat, I could see this lithe woman near the VIP section, dancing her heart out throughout the concerts (lucky her, walang rayuma!). In the bleachers section, where I sat, there was only one lady (the one next to me), who danced (it was during Michael’s set). But the whoops and whistles of admiration were present all throughout, just as Michael and Boz resurrected their inner, younger, kick-ass selves through song. Which just goes to show that finely crafted music created and performed by great performers like Michael McDonald and Boz Scaggs … is ageless in its beauty and inspiration.

I say, if “hot” older women are “may asim pa,” then I say Michael McDonald and Boz Scaggs are still “sizzling like sisig”!

THE SET LISTS (AS I REMEMBER THEM)

MICHAEL McDONALD’S SET LIST:

Our Love (unplugged)
It Keeps You Running
Sweet Freedom
I Keep Forgettin’
You Don’t Know Me
Yah Mo Be There
Ain’t No Love To Be Found
You Belong To Me
Minute By Minute
Stop, Look, Listen To Your Heart
Ain’t No Mountain High Enough
What A Fool Believes
Takin’ It To The Streets

BOZ SCAGGS’ SET LIST:

Jo Jo
Hard Times
Georgia
I’m Sorry I Tried To Bring You Down
Breakdown Dead Ahead
Miss Sun
Harbor Lights
‘Til You Come Right Back Home
Look What You’ve Done To Me
Miss Sun
Lido Shuffle

ENCORE:

We’re All Alone
You Make It Hard (To Say No)

LET'S VOTE FOR A GOVERNMENT WE DESERVE

2009-12-06T17:34:00.000-08:00

Given the steady and rapid decline of almost everything in the Philippines, I completely understand why many Filipinos have lost hope in their own nation and fellowmen. I hate to admit it, but I'm one of them. However, unlike many of my disillusioned "kababayans," I have not given in (yet?) to the temptation of abstaining from the elections. Many of the people I know have gotten so fed up with the state of the country (and the crappy manner in which many Filipinos treat their fellowmen), that they've given up on voting altogether. While I may have had that sinking feeling for some time now (sometimes I regret giving up the opportunity to move to America because I didn't want to be a brown American --- sometimes, I think that was so naive!), I am not willing to give up my one vote --- sure, being in the Philippines right now is akin to being in a sinking Titanic. But if I'm going to go down eventually, I'm going to go down fighting. I won't allow any form of "Dagdag-bawas" to take over my right to choose the next leaders of my country.

Having grown up during the time of Martial Law, having seen the many, many years of opportunity that we've all just frittered away after EDSA ... I think we're really at the edge of the cliff now (if we haven't fallen off it yet). One more misstep and we'll probably be living in the most shameful, shittiest nation in the world FOREVER.

Let's face it --- many of us have the tendency to whine and complain about how terrible it is to live in the Philippines, how shameful it is to be Filipino ... but should we just stop there? We know how bad things are, can't we at least try and do something to save ourselves from further doom? It's been said that people get what they deserve. Do we really deserve a country that's decaying, from the very air that circulates around it, down to the roots of its soil? We're all dying, inside and out. But should we just curl up and die? Perhaps, we can do it, if we're only affecting ourselves. But we've all got an effect on each other's lives. The things we say and do today, will have an impact on the future of our families and loved ones. Say or do nothing now, and we will be ensuring the death of our loved ones' future.

One man CAN make a difference, and it doesn't take much to create a positive impact on the world around us. Just look at Efren Peñaflorida, who was voted CNN Hero Of The Year. He's not exactly rich, but he has a good heart, he has enough brains. Using what little he had, he came up with this bright idea to teach children using a kariton and a small bunch of school and reading materials. I'd like to think we CAN make a difference, even if it's just through one vote. The better future we envision for ourselves and our children might not come about immediately (that's asking for the moon); but trying is better than giving up, I say.

If you have the time, please watch the presidential forums that have been hosted by the two major networks (you can still watch snippets of it on You Tube). Look for these on the internet. I missed part of GMA's "Isang Tanong," but I did catch last night's run of ABS-CBN's "Harapan." What a pleasant surprise --- it appears that not all presidential aspirants are bullshit artists. Why, there are actually a few out there who can (and MUST) be considered as the future leader of this land.

I have yet to decide on whom to vote for next year, but I was pleasantly surprised to see that a number of the current batch of presidentiables actually have character AND brains ... why, they've even got fairly solid platforms! (And by "platforms," I'm talking actual action plans, and not vague, grandiose, motherhood statements like the ones we're used to hearing).

For instance, the independent candidate Nick Perlas actually has a step-by-step action plan for his first 100 days of office! Noynoy Aquino actually seems to have a working brain in his head (now, if he'll only show he's a guy with balls and prove he can manage his own campaign without the influence of people around him, like traditional politicians, and his sister Kris). While being a religious leader, Eddie Villanueva also appears to have a sound head on his shoulders (his previous political background is grandly showing itself now). And Richard Gordon (who just now reminds me he looks like Alfred Hitchcock) appears to have political experience, a brain AND the correct set of inspirational/motivational tools to get Filipinos off their butts and begin working to save the Philippines from its state of crap. It's just unfortunate he chose Bayani Fernando as his running mate (I respect the value he places upon discipline, we really need it, but I dislike the way he treats Filipinos --- I mean, hey, we're not herds of cattle to be directed and driven to wherever he wishes. Those stinky portalets, put*-pink overpasses, accident-friendly U-turn slots, and the errant MMDA people (I'm pretty sure not all of them are bad) ... Bayani probably has good intentions, but unfortunately, these things have made him appear despotic. He's definitely unpopular, and I'm also pretty sure these will hurt Gordon's chances of winning. I still don't know why Manny Villar wasn't there, but based on what I saw in "Isang Tanong," but he does seem to have a brain, too (though he's pretty smooth). Gabo Teodoro appears to be a brilliant man, but with all the hardships Filipinos have gone through during GMA's term, it's likely that their people's dislike for her (and the administration) will translate to a loss of votes for Mr. Teodoro.

I just hope that more Filipinos will be more pro-active about their future by being more active in the elections --- at the very least, be more selective of the people courting them for their votes --- and be more mature in choosing their leaders. We have a tendency to get so wrapped up in details, that we forget the big picture. For instance, there's this YouTube snippet on Nick Perlas, who apparently subscribes to the idea of divorce. Guess what? Instead of focusing on the platform and the big picture, you've got these people who've dismissed him, simply on the basis of his divorce views. I don't know about the others, but to me, religion mustn't be the sole decision criterion for a president. You can have a president who would say no to divorce, but is the president necessarily a good one? We all know the answer to that one, I hope!

A candidate who gives things during the election period isn't exactly one who'll serve you when he gets elected. A guy who claims he prays, or has the support of religious groups doesn't exactly mean he's the best. A man with a brain doesn't exactly mean he'll lead well (why, look at all those leaders we've had who were brilliant, but also amoral). Just because a man has a heart doesn't mean he's the one. We MUST choose our next president carefully.

Of course, me must also be as careful in choosing the other members of our political system --- from the Vice President, down to our local officials. Yes, it is definitely time to junk the trapos (especially the babbling ones who mistakenly think they're doing the country a favor by insulting other people in multi-syllabic, high-faluting English, when it's crystal clear they're only revealing their personal grudges and interests in public. We know who they are, and it's a crime we need to witness such a wasteful, pointless use of our time, money and patience).

And I say, it's not just enough for someone to support the "masses" --- I think it's time the candidates think of what they can do for the middle class, which has been bearing the brunt of the society's ills for a long, long time now. The ultra rich and ultra poor have always received the most attention and support (sometimes, they're already being coddled, don't you think?), to the detriment of the middle class. I'm part of the middle class, and I say, we've been so abused and neglected for so long, we need some support NOW because we're a dying group.

Let's take the example of Denmark --- can you believe it? The people in Denmark have access to free education (the government actually PAYS people to attend school), free healthcare, paid maternity leave (one year), and paid unemployment (the government actually pays your salary for up to four years, if you are laid off from work!), and there's welfare assistance! People are so happy they even leave their children out in the streets, and no one would even dare steal those babies! Compare it to the kind of system we have --- both education and healthcare have prohibitive costs, you'll be lucky if an employer will actually hire you if you're a woman with a family (they'd rather hire men because they can't have maternity leaves that will prove to be costly to the company), you can have a good work and educational background and still end up with no work at all (if you're lucky, you'll end up underemployed). There are still so many people with no access to basic services and utilities, costs of almost everything are skyrocketing, we've got cases of carnage (like the Maguindanao Massacre, which is just plain, unspeakable evil) ... why can't we have a government like Denmark's?

The power of government lies in us, because we are the ones who put them, the local officials, there. No matter how some politicians try to distort that truth with their guns, goons and gold, the truth still is, the power resides in us. So, let's use it. It's time we get a good government we TRULY deserve as Filipinos.

Let's choose wisely this time, go out there and vote. This could be our last shot at change.

TEARS FOR FEARS FINALLY COMING TO MANILA! YES, YES, YES!

2009-11-29T14:13:00.003-08:00

I have just gotten out of bed, after one entire week's worth of bed rest, no thanks to my terrible, terrible cold! Don't you just hate it when your cold gives you the "Pop rocks"-type of coughing (and "phlegm-ing")? Thankfully, I'm the type of person who gets knocked out cold in five minutes' flat with one tablet of Biogesic. If you need to sedate me, just give me that and I'll be dead to the world ...

I feel so guilty that I spent one entire week just lying in bed (if you're a reluctant Type A person like me, that's an agonizing bit of punishment) ... then again, I must admit I somehow enjoyed the guilty pleasure of doing nothing. Reading nothing but my friend Cecile's hand-me-down US gossip magazines and listening to 99.5RT's 24K Weekend, while downing chocolates (M&M's, Dove, Bliss, Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Jelly Bellies, etc., etc., etc.), sent to me as "pasalubong" by one of my best buddies, Olivs ... Talk about idle, brainless fun!

Remember that wonderful, cool radio station of the seventies and eighties, 99.5RT? I didn't know the station still played my kind of music, until my friend Beckay told me the station has 24K Weekend --- on Saturdays and Sundays, you actually get a chance to listen to all your favorite eighties, punk/New Wave, dance and soft jazz songs.

The DJ's even take in your requests, which you could make via a landline call to their station, OR a text message, OR a Yahoo! Messenger message ... how great is that? It's such a kick to make a request and have it delivered lightning-fast. Why, twenty-five years ago, my friends and I needed to call the station for at least thirty minutes to reach the DJ and make a request (you'd be damned lucky if they played your request) ... but now? Wow! Last Saturday, I sent a request via Yahoo! Messenger, and the the DJ on-board at that time (Neil Almighty) played the Clash' "Rock The Casbah" for me in less than five minutes! Talk about lightning-fast. And, guess what? Our beloved DJ, Jeremiah Junior, still goes on the air (I heard his program last Saturday, beginning 6am). Excellent. I wonder if Vince Saint Price (?) and North Andrew are still around ...

You can actually listen to 99.5 RT, via the internet (why, I didn't know we had streaming music stations in the Philippines!) --- it's at http://www.dwrt995.fm/main.html. Give their 24K Weekend music a try, you'll have a blast.

After reading a thick stack of US gossip magazines (I still don't get why anyone is so keen on knowing what Britney, Lindsey, Nicole, Brad and Angelina, Tom and Kate are doing/buying/wearing, etc.), and giving myself heart palpitations from all the chocolates (I don't think I'll be wanting chocolates for at least a year), it's back to real life for me. To mark my return to "normal life," I decided to go on the internet to check my mail and do some surfing. Now, why I thought about Googling "Tears For Fears in Manila" is beyond me ... what I read is happy, happy news, straight from Papa S.' blog (that's Curt Smith):

"TFF tour update
Posted on November 25th, 2009 at 11:38am
I am told that the following dates are confirmed as TFF headline shows after the Spandau Ballet dates:

May 2nd Manila Araneta Coliseum, Philippines

May 4th Singapore Fort Canning

May 6th Hong Kong Star Hall

May 8th Taipei Tai-Da Gym, Taiwan

I currently don't know the for sale or announcement dates.

Papa S."

TEARS FOR FEARS LIVE IN MANILA AT THE ARANETA COLISEUM, MAY 2, 2010 ... After, whaaat?????!!!!!?????? SPANDAU BALLET?????!!!!!?????

Bring out the relapse, I'm going to do a happy dance a la Roland Orzabal! OH, MY GULAY! YEEEEEEEESSSSS!!!!!

TEARS FOR FEARS LIVE IN MANILA … NOT! (YET?!)

2009-10-15T14:54:00.000-07:00

The very first time I heard a Tears For Fears song, I was in third year high school. You’d probably have to drop a safe on my head to make me forget that song, since it’s been branded into my brain (of course, I’m speaking figuratively). It was around the time of the annual High School Fair over at Maryknoll. For some strange reason, it seemed like there was only ONE cassette tape that played in an endless loop over the P.A. In any case, I heard that song AT LEAST five times each time I was at the fair grounds. What song was it? Just that perfect musical gem called “Pale Shelter”.

Not that I was in a particularly angst-filled stage in my life at the time (the angst would come much later), but I was definitely hooked on the song. The music was great, the lyrics were, wow, profound and meaningful! Duran Duran’s “The Re-fle-fle-fle-flex,” seemed so, well, crappy (sorry, Simon!), compared to this masterpiece …

It took some time before I knew who the duo behind the song was (I don’t even remember how I found out), but once I knew “Pale Shelter” came from a duo named Tears For Fears, once I saw the boys’ video on TV (and realized how cute Curt Smith was!), I was definitely hooked. Sorry, my dear boys from Birmingham, but I really did replace you in my heart (and the poster section in my room --- i.e., the front cover of our airconditioner) with those boys from Bath back then…

So, I found Curt extremely cute (for some reason, Roland didn’t cause a rise in my hormones, even if he had that cool way of dancing in the “Change” video and had va-voom torso and biceps) … but I think what hooked me to the duo were the songs. Their album, “The Hurting”? I don’t think there’s a song in it that I didn’t like. Same goes for their album, “Songs From The Big Chair”. No one wrote songs that deep as those two did!

I loved them so much that I even hunted down books by Dr. Arthur Janov to understand just what the heck that Primal Scream theory was all about (they were into it at the time, they had a lot of issues, apparently).

Still loved the boys when I was in college (even if I had replaced them with another British band, Curiosity Killed The Cat --- you gotta love those Englishmen). But alas, after a few brilliant songs, like “Sowing The Seeds Of Love” (so fabulously Beatle-esque), they were gone from the airwaves. Save for a few solo efforts from the two, no one really heard from them.

And so I was thrilled when I heard they had gotten back together. After Duran Duran visited Manila in April 2008, I was SO wishing they would come over to perform. Last night, I was listening to “Everybody Wants To Rule The World,” when I decided to Google “Tears For Fears live in Manila” on a whim … For some reason, I ended up in Curt Smith’s official website, which was how I found out the news …

OH. They’re not coming to Manila (or, as Curt wrote, “Manilla”).

WHAT? They were planning to come to Manila?????!!!?????

As Papa S. (that’s what Curt calls himself) wrote on his website, the promoters prematurely announced the Australian/Singaporean/Philippine tour dates, even if an agreement hadn’t been reached as yet. According to Curt, there were financial issues (what, you mean, not enough money?), plus the fact that Roland couldn’t be away from his family for long.

Bummer.

I do hope the band will reconsider touring to Manila ASAP, though! I swear, I will be moving heaven and earth to watch this band, front row and center! Promoters, won’t you please, PLEASE fix the financial issue and get this band to Manila as soon as possible? We know the band is ageless, but hey, we’re ordinary, middle-aged mortals here! We want our lungs and throats to be able to scream and sing as much as we want to, when they do finally come over. And we want our joints to be supple enough to replicate Roland’s dance moves! We’ve been waiting for this band for the last quarter century, don’t make us wait any longer, we’ll be too old by then!

THE "DIFFICULT RIGHT"

2009-09-01T11:09:00.000-07:00

I heard an interesting phrase said on television tonight. It was said by one of Mar Roxas’ supporters, in relation to Mr. Roxas’ decision to withdraw his bid for the presidency in 2010. The supporter referred to Mr. Roxas’ move as “the difficult right;” this simply means doing the right thing even though it is difficult, as opposed to “the easy wrong” (conversely, doing the wrong thing just because it’s easy).

I think the phrase caught my attention, primarily because my world currently seems to be full of these situations that all boil down to the dilemma of “the difficult right vs. the easy wrong.” One such case happened this afternoon. Very simple, actually.

I was driving out of our subdivision. To make it out to the main road, I had to pass this tiny, curvy, right-of-way (always a pain to drive through this road, to be honest with you). Just as I hit the curvy part, here comes this huge, gold-colored AUV/SUV-type vehicle. In my opinion, common sense and common driver’s courtesy dictate that the driver with the straightest and widest road “berth” (?) give way, so the other driver would be able to pass as quickly as possible. That way, both parties would be on their way with minimum effort and annoyance. Well, at least that’s what I think, that’s what I do. If I know the driver will have a hard time passing through that right-of-way and I can easily help him/her out, I'll give way.

The problem is, while I often give way to the hapless drivers stuck in that pesky right-of-way, when it’s my turn, I seem to get stuck with the insensitive, stubborn, brainless ones.

So, this afternoon, I was stuck at an impasse of sorts with the Insensitive-Driver-With-The-Big-Car. I even got out of my car to try and politely strike a compromise (let’s both move our cars, so we can both get out of each other’s way asap and move on). To my surprise, the driver was someone I actually knew (she appeared to be the mother of some childhood friends of mine (they live in the fringes outside our subdivision, near the guardhouse).

Alas, nothing I said seemed to strike her as wise or practical – she said, this was the first time it ever happened to her (for someone to ask her to compromise?). She refused to budge! When I relented and said, “O, sige, pero kapag nagkabanggaan tayo, ha?" - she (or was it her female companion?) quipped, “E, ‘di babayaran mo!” I thought, how rude. (Saka, wala nga akong pera, ano?!)

I dont' think she recognized me (she's rarely seen me, after her kids emigrated), hence the not-so-neighborly treatment. It would be so sad if she acted like this, even if she recognized me. It took all my patience to move my vehicle and give way to this Neighbor-Of-Sorts - it's a miracle my car didn't hit the curve!

It’s been said that everyone has an “invisible line.” One side of the line contains everything that’s essentially true and good, right and moral. Walk past that line and you’ll find everything else – maybe something, someone you hold dear and precious, but might be the exact opposite. The question one always faces is, what will make you walk past that line, and would you actually walk past it?

These days, it seems like what’s true and good, right and moral (I’m so tempted to use the Imeldific phrase, “the true, the good and the beautiful”) … they’re values that have lost their importance in today’s world. Not to say they’re important – they are – but they’ve been discarded in favor of other things – say, money, or career advancement, popularity, ego, the easy way out, survival … you name it.

I’m not one who can claim to have an interesting, exciting life (in the pleasure-filled, worldly sense) … but I’ve lived long enough to recognize where my “invisible line” lies. It’s not an easy line to keep. I’ve been tempted to cross it a few times. Truth be told, it seems to be much easier to just cross that line, and be done with everything that’s right. But I know one thing – if I cross that line, I lose my soul. I will be joining the millions of people who have traded in their moral compass and character, and I will be trampling upon other fellow humans in exchange for the “good” stuff – money, acceptance, ego, etc.

It’s not that I don’t have needs or desires, I am human, after all … but to me, I’d like to think there are certain things bigger than one’s personal “stuff,” like one’s ambition, ego, etc. There are certain lines that simply can’t be crossed, if you wish to remain a human being with a heart and a conscience.

The “difficult right” … sounds like the “invisible line,” right?

My Dad, ever the cool and calm one (yeah, right), was once the only Filipino manager at a multi-national company – and the only (crazy?) one to challenge his Portugese boss to a fist-fight, over some injustice. And while working at this other company, my Dad’s head rolled when his smart-but-not-honorable bosses made him the scapegoat to save their asses (my Dad unwittingly sabotaged a bidding process that the bosses intended to favor someone). My mom, meanwhile, had to endure being by-passed several times during her banking career, because she was never one to suck up to the bosses. Her officemates actually had a nickname for her – “Siling Labuyo” (red hot chili pepper) – because she was known to flash her temper whenever she thought that was the right thing to do. No one ever cowed her.

My parents aren’t perfect, but I am still very proud to be their daughter. They had/have the balls to stand up for themselves and do what’s right (my Dad once told me, “Never allow anyone to demean you”).

If only God will allow me to have just a fraction of my family’s courage and conscience inside me, I’ll have the strength to do “the difficult right” - from simple acts like being a decent driver, to more relevant practices like treating people well and not taking advantage of them, speaking up for one’s self when needed, knowing when to admit mistakes instead of assigning blame, being accountable, knowing when to stand one's ground, etc. … acts like these that can be painful and costly in today’s world, but helps in preserving one's soul.

AFTER THE LONG GOODBYE TO CORY AQUINO … COMES, WHAT?

2009-08-06T13:39:00.001-07:00

GMANews.TV - A generation apart, Cory and Ninoy funerals stir up memories - Nation - Official Website of GMA News and Public Affairs - Latest Philippine News

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It has been a long and (literally) painful process for me, saying goodbye to Cory Aquino.

I had always regretted being absent during the wake of Ninoy Aquino in 1982, and the EDSA Revolution in 1986 … I wasn’t that ready to miss my chance at paying my last respects to Cory … after all she had done for the country, I felt it was just and proper to pay homage to her by visiting her at her wake and take a few moments to say goodbye to her.

But alas, it is 2009, and while my spirit remains willing, the flesh is weaker than it was when I was in my teens. At the happy age of forty, I am beginning to feel the “old fart” joint pain whenever the weather turns cold, or I eat something I shouldn’t be eating (peanuts, peanut butter, meat and eggplants – all favorites, sigh). And let’s not forget the other “old fart” rise in blood pressure from over-exertion!

Just the same, I found two opportunities to pay my last respects to Cory last Monday, 03 August. A friend, Nikki, invited me to join her and Gay to attend the wake … but this plan was changed to an early visit at Cory’s home in Times Street … while this happened, I received another invitation from a neighbor, Mrs. Cruz, who wanted to line up at the Manila Cathedral for the wake. In the end, I joined my neighbor in the long, arduous process of lining up for a five-second (more or less – probably, less!) chance to stand in front of Cory and say goodbye.

When I say “long and arduous,” I speak of four hours of joining thousands of people in a line that snaked up all the way past Muralla, past Anda, all the way to the cobblestoned streets near the arko (I forgot what that is called). And that even includes a little “cheating,” thanks to Mrs. Cruz, who steadfastly planted herself at approximately the three-fourths mark of the line. At first, I tried to persuade Mrs. Cruz to line up at the REAL end … but there was no way I could convince her otherwise. I was so sure the people were going to beat us up (maybe they’ll exclude Mrs. Cruz, but beat me and her other younger companion, Rene, up!). But Cory appeared to be working her miracle that night – after a few complaints from people to line up at the REAL line, they decided they wouldn’t beat us up (I heard some of them say, let’s let the lady line up, after all, her companions didn’t force themselves in). Thankfully, care and respect for elders prevailed amongst the crowd, and they didn’t kick us out of the line.

After mumbling a very sincere apology to the people behind me, I tried to make up for it by being extra-friendly (to the point of irritation, perhaps?). Offered them chewing gum, made small talk … which helped somewhat, because after about an hour or two, we were chatting comfortably (hey, Mrs. Cruz was even joining us in our conversation!). But a problem arose. Mrs. Cruz soon became tired, and would leave the line from time to time to sit somewhere. At her last stop, Rene and I lost her! Yipes! At this point, we were well past the fifty percent mark … after Rene tried looking for her (in vain), he and I continued lining up, all the while wondering where we’d catch Mrs. Cruz once we had our chance to view Cory’s remains. Our newly-found small talk-mates at the back were thankfully very patient and kind – one of them (he looked like a Filipino-Chinese guy) said, they’d let Mrs. Cruz come back into the line once Rene found her.

Overhearing the guy’s conversations with his teenaged (?) daughter from time to time, I found it very heartening that he was lining up at the wake with her. I suppose, he was trying to share a piece of relevant history with her … even trying to comfort his daughter, who was beginning to feel the painful effects of long waiting and standing … Just stretch, he told her … without him knowing, I followed his instructions, as well! But either he’s just fooling us by saying that stretching alleviated the pain. In my experience, my legs were beginning to stiffen, and I was beginning to feel very weary. But at about two in the morning, I had to lift those stiff legs from the ground and walk-run together with the rest of the crowd … the closing time of four am was nearing … will we make it?????

We came across some people who said the line was long, so, so long … they were either wrong in their calculations, or deliberately trying to discourage us … because, at two thirty, two-thirty five in the morning, we finally made it at the entrance of the Manila Cathedral. I loved how Manila Cathedral looked, it was the church I visited almost daily when I was still working at Far East Bank in the early nineties. The area around it had changed somewhat (the old fixtures like good old Chicken Bacolod were still there, but there were new eateries like Jollibee, Max’s, Greenwich nearby – and, what, Starbucks?!). Manila Cathedral hadn’t changed at all – in fact, it looked breathtakingly beautiful. There were yellow banners and streamers decorating its façade, signs of Cory Yellow … and vendors hawking their Cory memorabilia, signs of commercialism … the ushers outside broke us up into two lines. Together, the people at both lines walked simultaneously, to view Cory.

(Prior to making it to the line, people were joking, saying they’d probably be crying once they saw Cory … because their bodies hurt so bad!)

The ushers were very kind to help this polio-stricken woman up the stairs, leading to the red carpeted floor … as we made our way to the coffin, there was a kind-looking, bearded man who handed her a Cory pin (I wonder if that was Guillermo Luz – did I get his name right – the man who once was president of the Makati Business Club). About four-five steps away from the coffin, I began saying my prayer … Thank you, Lord, for an opportunity to visit Cory … then, I got to face Cory. In those three to five seconds, I looked at Cory, now lying in her rust-colored coffin (it must have been wood), looking very different from the Cory I met as a high school student, and the President Cory I knew in the eighties and nineties. She wore a yellow dress (satin?) which was decorated with beads (rhinestones?). Her hair seemed a little longer than what I was used to seeing (slightly below the chin?), but it was dyed black. She didn’t have her eyeglasses on, which was slightly disconcerting; the shade of lipstick (a tad too red) was also disconcerting … but what jarred me the most, was how her face and body had changed. In my eyes, her skin was pale and ashen; her face, now thin and triangular; her body … well, it seemed to shrink inside her suit. Her body really showed the pain her cancer caused her.

In those three seconds, all I could silently tell her was … Thank you, Tita Cory.

(What, did I just call her Tita?!)

I made my way back to Mrs. Cruz’ car together with Rene – along the way, I saw Cesar Purisima (once a member of the Arroyo cabinet) and other VIP’s … I didn’t resent lining up for hours for a few seconds to see her, but I somehow felt pissed those VIP’s didn’t endure the pain of lining up … but there’s the Philippine socio-economic structure for you …

A few hours ago, I read Manolo Quezon III’s column in the Philippine Daily Inquirer … he related a story about how Susan Roces gave her place up at the lift AND took the stairs, so a disabled woman and her companion could make it to the La Salle gym to view Cory’s remains … sad to think that VIP’s won’t give up their space at the lift and wait a few minutes longer, to help a disabled woman make it to the wake faster … but heartening that the masa would let Mrs. Cruz, Rene and I break the line. Not to say, we should always break the rules … but we can be a little generous and considerate of other people sometimes, don’t you think?

Anyway, it soon turned out that Mrs. Cruz had been whisked off to a Senior Citizens’ line, and was finished paying her last respects to Cory two hours before Rene and I made it to the “finish line” … oh, well!

I returned home, happy but so, SO exhausted … I had to take two Biogesic pills to ease the pain … but sleep still wouldn’t come. I had a few, irregular sessions of napping the entire day yesterday … and so I got the chance to view Cory’s memorial, her necrological mass, and the long drive to her burial.

I don’t think I would ever line up for four hours to see a public servant ever again … in the same manner, I don’t think I would ever weep over a public servant AND my country ever again …

I shed a few tears when Alfredo Lim saluted Cory, melted when Teddy Boy Locsin delivered his eulogy and called himself a “knight” to Cory’s “sovereign” (next to Roger Taylor, I can fall in love with someone just like this man, and I don’t care if he’s obviously past fifty). But I cried when Mel Mamaril delivered his halting, English speech and saluted his beloved Ma’am for the last time … for Mr. Mamaril was probably the closest to what I was in Cory’s world, the plain, ordinary man (woman) … yet, he was the most eloquent in showing his love and respect for the woman he guarded for more than twenty years. Not at all pleased with Noynoy’s speech, which seemed so devoid of emotion and sounded more like a political speech (I’m afraid he’s had to rein in his emotions for so long, the only words he can deliver without crying is something political).

I was sidetracked by a work-related matter, and so I missed part of the Necrological Mass… but I made it back (to watching TV), just as Kris was delivering her speech to the crowd. Impressive beginning, which unfortunately morphed into a Me-Myself-And-I moment … thankfully, the attention-loving side of Kris vanished and the daughter returned …

Surprised that the Marcoses showed up at the wake AND were received well … considering the history between the two families AND the nation … even more surprised that President GMA showed up at the wake AND didn’t get booed at all. I actually admire the guts the President had (or maybe she didn’t have a choice, after all?). The very awkward, frosty dynamics between GMA and Noynoy were understandable. Not pleased at all that Sen. Miriam Defensor-Santiago was there … after all, didn’t she once accuse Cory and Franklin Drilon of attempting to overthrow GMA? But, I suppose, that’s politics for you.

What can I say about the entire wake and burial, overall? Thankfully, it was a beautiful reflection of what Cory stood for – she was simple, deep, spiritual … even if there were a few unfortunate instances of self-promotion (and I’m not talking about Kris), where certain people rode on Cory’s last grand event to promote their own religious or political causes (the lady is dead, won’t you let her rest?) … overall, it was Cory’s final goodbye to the Filipinos.

The Necrological Mass was beautiful … the send-off … wow. They laid Cory’s coffin atop a truck, its flatbed was decorated with RECYCLED flowers taken from the wake (they were shaped like the rays in our Philippine flag) … now, talk about beautiful, creative AND inexpensive! It was so beautiful that yellow confetti rained from atop buildings when the coffin was brought out and placed on that truck … so beautiful that many songs were offered in homage to her, including Jose Mari Chan’s “I Fell In Love With The Same Woman Three Times” … that song makes me want to cry, each time I hear it.

I was so impressed when those four honor guards endured the long drive to Manila Memorial … why, they didn’t even fall off the truck! People, it was so mean and thoughtless that you threw coins AT the guards – forget the superstition that throwing coins on top of coffins means good luck! You bruised the men instead! Also impressed that the family endured the long drive (sorry to hear Ms. Maur Aquino broke her rib in a freak accident).

And the people – wow, unbelievable that hundreds of thousands walked with the funeral cortege or waited in select spots where the cortege was passing …. What a fitting gift to Cory!

After almost nine hours, Cory was finally laid to rest beside Ninoy at the Manila Memorial Park. I never expected it, but I wept – maybe because so many things had come full circle – Cory was now beside the man who was taken away from her. The military, which at one point became tools of pain and torture for Cory, Ninoy and her family – were now giving her the Full Military Honors, which were so grand and breath-taking. For the first time, I also wept for my country – never had I expected this – for in that moment, I saw and felt the spirit of Edsa, saw and felt the hope I felt as a Filipino when Cory became president … and really FELT how badly we as a nation had squandered that hope and opportunity.

Before the TV stations switched back to regular programming, Cory’s tombstone was being cemented in place … Cory is now really, truly gone.

Wednesday afternoon, I counted the number of yellow ribbons that were tied on vehicles I passed by as I drove – if there were only four (counting mine) last Friday, that time there were about fifty. Great improvement, which is good.

But once media closes its story on Cory, and the ribbons vanish … what are we to do now? Some people ask, what will we do, now that the Mother of Philippine Democracy is gone?

I say, it’s time we began thinking of what we can do to make our country better. In her speech, Kris seemed to be passing on the responsibility of taking care of democracy to her elder brother, Noynoy. Which I somehow disagree with. For one, I’m not so sure Noynoy even WANTS to inherit that. From what I’ve seen and heard, I wonder if he even wants to be a Senator … but whether or not Noynoy wants this responsibility is beside the point.

I think, for the longest time, we’ve always passed on the enormous burden of taking care of our country to anyone else other than ourselves. Hence, the enormous power of people and institutions outside ourselves. I think, it’s time we began assuming some of the responsibility, too (and taking back our own power in the process). If people were to think hard about Cory’s life, won’t we see a woman who was forced into something she never wanted, and somehow lost her life and family in the process? She led a full life, that is evident; but it doesn’t erase the fact that we took something away from her. Maybe we shouldn’t impose that burden on some other martyr, and did something, ourselves. It doesn’t need to be political, I’m sure we can think of something to make our own nation better. But one thing I’m sure of – unless we band together, get off our butts and do something productive for other Filipinos, Cory’s sacrifice will be for naught, and Edsa will forever remain a dream, soon to be forgotten and even reviled, as time passes.

*****

These are the lyrics to Jose Mari Chan’s “I Have Fallen In Love With The Same Woman Three Times” (lyrics actually come from a poem by Ninoy to Cory)

I have fallen in love
With the same woman three times
In a day spanning nineteen years
Of tearful joys and joyful tears.

I loved her first when she was young
Enchanting and vibrant, eternally new
She was brilliant, fragrant and cool as the morning dew
I fell in love with her the second time

When first she bore her child and mine
She's always by my side, the source of my strength
Helping to turn the tide…
I fell in love again with the same woman the third time

Looming from the battle her courage will never fade.
Amidst the hardships she has remained
Undaunted and unafraid
She is calm and composed. She is God's lovely maid.

MEETING CORY AND RAMBLINGS ABOUT EDSA

2009-08-01T13:36:00.000-07:00

Let's say a prayer for Cory, and tie yellow ribbons to express our appreciation for her dedication to the Filipino people ...

Before I talk about Cory Aquino, I would like to share my (rambling) experience of what life was like, pre-Cory.

I remember being about three years old and sitting with my Dad on the driver’s seat of our big car (I think it was a Ford). For some strange reason, my Dad taught me the strange habit of swearing at policemen as we drove by. I’m pretty sure the policemen wondered why this skinny (yes, I was once thin!) bald-headed kid (yours truly) would be shouting at them at the top of her lungs, “GAGO!” or “TARANTADO!”

Another strange habit my Dad had was yelling at the TV (alternatively, hitting it with a rolled-up copy of the newspaper or his slipper) whenever certain politicians came onscreen. And yes, he also cursed at them at the top of his lungs, “GAGO!” or “TARANTADO!” … let’s not forget the more colorful “P****G INA NINYO!” and “F***ING SHIT!” … Thankfully, I never acquired this colorful habit, despite my exposure to it - I only learned to swear like a sailor when I began working at an advertising agency and had to weave my way through EDSA traffic.

But I digress.

Being a child, I never really knew (or cared about) what was going on back then (turns out it was nationwide fear and anger directed at the state) – so, there was such a thing as curfews, so gas was rationed, there were plebiscites … so, what? None of these things mattered to me. But I grew up with an awareness that there was something – whatever it was – going on. A system … or an atmosphere, existed. It appeared that my household loved this guy named Ninoy Aquino … but there was this OTHER guy … and from what I understood, he was keeping this guy named Ninoy in jail. The OTHER guy had a very beautiful wife (I couldn’t understand why some guy attempted to hack her with a bolo, when she was so pretty). He seemed to have nice children … yet, the OTHER guy (and his family) seemed to be someone a lot of people disliked.

In the late seventies, there was a presidential election between Ninoy Aquino and the OTHER guy. It was the strangest thing. On TV, it seemed like the OTHER guy was winning – in fact, Ninoy Aquino was receiving ZERO votes! And yet, just outside our house, there was my father, joining this crazy noise barrage that never seemed to end. Pots and pans were being banged, metal gates were being clanged, car horns were being honked, left and right … All the racket was being created in support of Ninoy. Hmmm.

When I was about nine years old, I remember hearing about Ninoy Aquino leaving the Philippines. I don’t know why my mind even produced this thought, but I remember thinking, “He’s leaving the Philippines and never coming back. He’s allowed the OTHER guy to win.” It seemed sad back then, I don’t know why I even felt it, I was just a kid at the time. But I guess a kid is sensitive to cues in the environment – I must have sensed it from the people around me. Still, I was too young to understand what everything meant … so what if there was Martial Law and the OTHER guy was Prime Minister?

On the other hand, I did feel majorly pissed when “Voltes V” and my other anime shows were unceremoniously yanked off-air and replaced with this OTHER show (apparently hosted by the OTHER guy’s daughter). You can’t take Voltes V away from kids like me – why, that’s so painful … even cruel!

The years passed. On my second year of high school, here comes the news that Ninoy Aquino would be returning to the Philippines. The grown-ups certainly seemed excited about him coming back … but then, he was shot and killed.

Do you still remember where you were when Ninoy was shot? I do. I was at home, working an art project for school (I think it was cross-stitched napkins), when my Mom and I saw the news flash on Channel 7. It was Sunday, about 9:20 in the evening. I can’t explain why I felt it, but I felt my blood grow cold in my veins. We really couldn’t speak when we saw the news report. When my Dad arrived home, I just knew something terrible and horrible – EVIL – had just happened. Strangely, though, my Dad wasn’t yelling his usual curses at his usual targets – he was strangely quiet.

Back in class, our teacher, Sir Manny (for the life of me, I can’t remember his last name, so frustrating!) – asked us to write a reaction paper on Ninoy’s death. I poured out everything I felt back then – if I remember correctly, the paper was graded and mine got a very nice grade … I thought my Dad would be proud I wrote down my true feelings … instead, he grew very worried for me. In a voice that almost seemed panicky, he scolded me about voicing out my opinions in public … something bad could happen to me, he said. So, we could yell at the TV and the newspaper reports, but only with each other, never in public.

That was probably the moment when I realized the kind of situation that I and other people were into. So, this is what it meant to be under Martial Law. You can’t choose, you can’t say anything, you just bow down and shut up.

And yet, despite all these, something extraordinary was happening around me. There were all these smuggled, bootleg materials springing out from everywhere – news reports from other countries like America and Japan … telling a very different story from what one would hear on local TV or radio. People started wearing black mourning pins with the words, “Hindi Ka Nag-Iiisa” embossed in gold (I wore one like it for a very long time, but I lost it, sigh). We began listening to Radio Veritas, the only station that seemed to air reports that had a slight resemblance to what was on air abroad … I don’t remember the news reports anymore, but I do remember hearing this chilling cry of Ninoy’s daughter, Kris. Unless you had a heart of stone, you would understand that cry. You hear that and you just get this sense of a little girl’s heart being ripped apart, because her Daddy has left her.

My Mom was able to pay homage to Ninoy Aquino at the Sto. Domingo Church (she visited him on the way to work). My Dad and I tried to make it to the wake, as well; but for some reason, we only made it to Times Street (or was it Examiner?). The line was too long, according to him; and so, I missed my chance to pay my respects to my family’s favorite political guy.

On the day of Ninoy’s burial, I came to school … only to find that most of my classmates decided to be absent that day. Our teachers sent us home early, and I spent the rest of the day with Olivs and Steph (we stayed at Steph’s that day), until my Dad came to pick me up. Back at home, we continued listening to Radio Veritas … and this is where my earliest memory of Cory Aquino comes in. I remember listening to her speech to the people, and I thought … wow. Talk about strong-willed. If my husband got killed, I don’t even think I could talk, at all! But she was very calm and dignified, as she thanked the people and talked about Ninoy.

WOW.

After the assassination, the people slowly began to have the courage to say in public what they thought and said, in private. More and more people began wearing that black mourning pin. Public rallies against the OTHER guy began sprouting everywhere. At home, in my community, I remember joining my Mother and our other neighbors in a mini-rally of our home. It was pretty corny, because all we did was dress in yellow and walk around the subdivision, expressing what we felt … but hey, it was a good start, considering how meek we had become.

You could just sense the shift in the people’s mood, you could really sense the level of discontent and desire for something new … there were lists asking for a boycott of certain companies allied with the OTHER guy … and then, there were the Presidential Elections.

Before Cory decided to run against the OTHER guy, she was just an “ordinary” lady … but I can still remember the awe my Mom and I felt when we saw her. It was on the day I took my UPCAT exams, so that must have been in 1984 or 1985. Right after the exams, my Mom and I went to this beauty salon along Quezon Avenue called Tsubaki. It was probably a manangs’/mommies’ salon, because there were all these matronly types getting their hair and nails done (I must have been the youngest one there to have a haircut) … but, guess what? I wasn’t in the coolest parlor, but I did have my one and only "encounter" with Cory … believe it or not, I was in the very same beauty salon as the future President of the Philippines! We were just a few feet away from her – I was having my haircut, she was (if I remember correctly!) having her nails done.

I don’t remember why I never approached her – it was either because I was in the middle of my haircut, or I was too shy to approach her … but my Mom did! She approached Cory and handed her a magazine to read (pretty, sly, eh!) … Cory was so gracious! I remember her giving my Mom a very warm smile as she thanked her … last night, I asked my Mom why she actually did that for Cory. She said, at the time, Cory still hadn’t decided on running for President, she wanted to show her she supported her …

Months later, Cory would run for President … some supporters of hers like Evelio Javier would be gunned down … but the people couldn’t be stopped anymore, they were all rooting for Cory to win.

On the radio, you would hear these condescending ads with this woman (sounding like Cory) saying, she can’t do anything, she’s just a woman … and I remember thinking to myself, what idiot would produce such a radio ad? I was in high school, and I was so damned sure that was going to backfire …

Well, it did … but the election results on TV were doing a repeat of what happened to Ninoy … I remember watching the results on TV, and seeing all these computer programmers, obviously scared shitless, but doing what needed to be done … which was walk out in protest over the discrepancies in the election returns.

Just as Arcadia’s “Election Day” was filling the airwaves, the revolution was beginning to take shape. My family and I began listening to Radio Veritas regularly – then, non-stop, on the day that Fidel Ramos and Juan Ponce Enrile began seeking support from the people. I still remember the moment when I heard that on the radio – I had just come home after spending one entire day in Field Training Exercise – back then, we still had Army Military Training (why, I have no idea!). But that day, we spent the day, climbing over walls, clinging to hanging ropes, killing, de-feathering, cooking AND eating our own chicken (we turned the poor creatures into tinola - a miracle we didn't throw it up during lunch) … THEN when the punishment, er, training, was all over - squatting as punishment because one of our military officers doused our Commandant (is that what he was called?), Sir Skippy Lucero, with a water bomb!

When I made it back home, that's when I would hear about the defection. I remember going, oh, God. Is this why we were trained? We’ll enter a revolution, and we’ll have to go hike up the mountains, kill and eat live chickens?! And to think, I was so CLOSE to high school graduation!

In the next few days, we would be listening to Radio Veritas non-stop … my family would be joining other neighbors in donating and preparing food for distribution to Edsa … just as my parents and I were dressing up to go to Edsa (that was close to midnight - was it on a Saturday or Sunday?), here comes this announcement that the OTHER guy had left. Dang! And Hooray!

What can I say? My family and I were elated when Cory was sworn into office as President. Once she came into office, austerity became the fashion of the day (which was why the teachers and our principal forbade us from holding our prom - we held our high school proms underground, and we all got C’s in Conduct). Yellow became the “in” color (my pre-Graduation dress was Cory Yellow!). My Mother took me to Malacañang, where I got to view all the STUFF the OTHER guy and his family left behind (I can still remember the HUGE oxygen tank he had, and the very nice jewelry, clothes and shoes – innumerable! – his beautiful wife had). Austerity versus Excess ... hmmm! No wonder the people became unhappy!

Back then, with Cory at the helm, everything seemed so positive and promising … we all thought that change was finally going to happen, with her and her administration.

But, as the years would show, not even Cory’s magic could bring about the big, radical changes needed to bring the country back to its former glory. The television stations were handed back to their owners, and the songs like “Magkaisa” and “Handog Ng Pilipino Sa Mundo” were played ad infinitum … but sadly, the hope and optimism the people felt were just part of a honeymoon phase. Pretty soon, there would be much in-fighting amongst people in her administration (or so the newspapers would report), there would be the deaths of activists that would be blamed on her administration, then there were the coups … I swear, it’s a miracle I even graduated from college, considering how many coups there were against Cory’s government! In the last coup, I was (again) about to graduate – I remember thinking, here we go again! The coup was scary, quite violent (you can hear the military jets whizzing overhead!) – I had a very early Christmas vacation because of that coup (alas, though the coup gave me added review time, it still couldn't save me from that lousy Economics/calculus exam grade).

But even though the honeymoon period between Cory’s administration and the people ended, I never stopped liking or admiring Cory. So what if she never looked as beautiful or stunning as the OTHER guy’s wife was – she had brains (even if many people thought she wasn’t), and she had steel will (you just have to admire her guts, the way she stood up to the OTHER guy and her future detractors).

Because I admired Cory, I forgave Kris when she joined show-business (as if I have the right!) – and became (for a time) so show-business-y (and very annoying! Remember how annoying she was when she was still with that politician?). My heart went out to her (and even Kris!), when Kris announced her separation from that politician guy, with a detailed account of her abusive relationship with him. When she ran sobbing into Cory’s arms, I just went, OH! My heart just went out to Cory that time.

Cory was part of a family that owned Hacienda Luisita - wow, if you ever got to see this place, you'd be amazed. I once had the fortune to visit the hacienda as part of my work ...

(I was a Public Relations Associate over at Avellana and Associates - did I mention that there were some great freedom-lovers and freedom-fighters working there? - like Tito Leps Suzara, and the Avellanas themselves, who were wonderful people to work for?)

... But back to the Hacienda Luisita. Back then, before the hacienda ran into some trouble, the hacienda was vast, lush, beautiful, and filled with people who seemed happy to work there. I visited the hacienda because I once handled the advertising and PR account for a Cojuangco company, Jose Cojuangco and Sons (JCSO). I still remember visiting the JCSO office in Makati with my bosses ... we actually ran into Cory's relatives ... well, what do you know? They were as simple and unassuming as Cory! You won't even know they're Cojuangcos, because they dressed up in simple dresses and wore step-ins.

How can you tell a REAL Rich, Classy person from New Rich? The Real Rich won't be afraid to dress simply and wear faux jewelry. Cory was the ultimate classy person. She led such a simple life, never flaunted her riches in front of the less needy. Wow. Talk about admirable.

I was glad for her when she turned over the presidency to her successor, Fidel Ramos … I was happy she would get her wish and be a private citizen once again … but it was not really meant to be. In the years to come, we would all be witnesses to how she was pulled back into the spotlight to talk politics once more, even if everyone knew she was probably fed up with it by then.

It’s so sad how we, as a nation, betrayed her and Ninoy – we were the ones who nagged her to run for President. Yet, when she became President, we didn’t do our share of the work. We basically whined at her imperfections and that of her cabinet, and we went back to our old ways. We lived our lives as we did before, and in the process, we forgot all about her and Ninoy, and EDSA … ever notice how many of us stopped honoring EDSA and began sneering at it? Bato-bato sa langit, ang tamaan, guilty.

And so, here we are, twenty years or so later … if you look hard enough, you’ll see that we’re practically back to Square One. Only this time, Cory is dead. We don’t have her to push to the front of the firing line to face whatever’s ailing us.

When Cory became ill, there was this call to have people tie yellow ribbons as a show of support. I went out on the road last Friday night, just a few hours before she died … from my home, to my destination and back, I only saw THREE ribbons (four, if you counted mine). We have trampled the dream of EDSA to the ground, and we have tossed Cory into the dustbin of memory – cruelly and unfairly. It wasn’t Cory’s fault that the dream of EDSA hasn’t come to pass. It is our fault, ours alone – we failed to do our share of the work, and imposed all of the burden and responsibility on her.

She’s dead now – at least, there are people now showing up at the wake to show respect. Quite sad, in a way, because we are showing it, when it’s too late – she can’t see it, anymore! But, as they say, better late than never.

Cory’s passing comes at a time when we have democracy … and yet, are still in shackles, mostly from our inaction. Let’s face it, we’ve been generally lousy at helping our own country. Maybe it’s because we’ve been enslaved since Time Immemorial, that we’ve become each other’s Slave Masters … maybe it’s because we always needed a person outside of ourselves to emulate and follow. I don’t think we’ll have someone like Cory to inspire us anymore … she was extraordinary and irreplaceable.

But do we really need someone else? Maybe it’s time to look inside ourselves, and find the Cory and Ninoy within us. Beyond the act of looking, maybe it’s time for us to actually act and do something good for each other.

I think we’ve been silenced for a very long time as a nation (beginning with years of colonization), that when we finally had the chance to speak our minds, we couldn’t stop yapping. Maybe we should shut up for a while and think of what we can do that’s positive for our country. Maybe it doesn’t have to be as big or radical as the sacrifices made by Cory and Ninoy, maybe it’s as simple as throwing garbage in actual bins, instead of anywhere else. Doesn’t have to be political, just kind and decent. Little acts that, taken together, have a meaningful consequence. Maybe we should stop looking at political colors, and just do something beneficial to fellow Filipinos. Even better, maybe we should stop paying attention to the endless bullshitting of politicians, and expect more from them – and from ourselves!

If Cory and Ninoy are called the Mother and Father of Democracy, then, guess what – we are now orphans, and it’s time for the orphans to grow up and fend for themselves. For the longest time, we’ve always looked to other people to do the right thing – why is that? If we know what’s right from wrong, then why do we need a person or an entity to justify our actions? Just because a lot of people are doing and tolerating wrong, doesn’t mean, we have to do wrong, as well.

Isn’t it just perfect timing that Cory’s death comes at a time when we are at another crossroads in history … maybe we should dust off that apathy of ours and care about what happens to the future of our country, this time. Maybe we should expect more of ourselves and the people who will lead us. The winds of change are upon us, maybe it’s time we direct it, instead of allowing people and situations to carry us where they wish. The coming elections are simple yet important – instead of boycotting it, as you normally do, why not choose someone very carefully, then go out and actually vote?

Ninoy paid with his very own life to express his belief that we, the Filipinos are worth dying for. Cory, rightly or wrongly, believed we are worth living for – that she gave up much of her private life, just to satisfy our demands on her. Maybe this is the perfect time to pay homage to them AND prove their sacrifice wasn’t wasted, by doing something better with our own lives, by doing something positive for our fellow Filipinos. It would be so, SO shameful if we were to prove Ninoy and Cory wrong.

I must admit that I am not always 100 percent proud to be a Filipino. Most of the time I want to change my nationality, given what we have to deal with as a nation, on a daily basis. But Cory’s passing reminds me of a time in history when we all chose to do something right, and we were all victorious. That was definitely a moment when I was proud to be a Filipino. There’s still time for us to regain that pride.

On a personal note, I can only say how much I admire Cory’s spirit, and belief in God. If I can only acquire or reproduce one percent of what she had, I can only imagine the great things I can produce … if only I, and the rest of us Filipinos, can develop that kind of inner strength and belief in God … wow. We’ll be First World in no time.

Thank you, Cory, for your selfless dedication to the Filipino people. You were a great Filipina, a shining example of wisdom, inner beauty, courage and faith. I hope you’re happy in eternity with Ninoy. Please continue praying for us from heaven, so we won’t cause this country to REALLY flush itself down the drain …

Rest in peace, Cory.

H IS FOR “HEARTLESS”, “HARROWING”

2009-07-23T12:49:00.000-07:00

THE “HEARTLESS" PART …

I know I totally shocked a sister today (and when I say “sister,” I mean, a nun – my spiritual director, actually!), when I said, “Who cares?” in relation to a topic in our conversation. Not to divulge details, but it had something to do with a sick person, and his relation to a couple. Of course, that generated a shocked reaction, so heartless of me to respond in that way! – I knew it was going to shock her, but I had no qualms responding in such an atypical way (What? Renny, deliberately turning mean? Has she gone mad?!).

Of course, when I said it, I didn’t mean “No, I didn’t give a damn” – but I said it (yes, brutally) to express my strong belief (certain causes get me into rant mode, this is one of them). That while one must always have the capacity to sympathize with the condition of other people, it simply CANNOT be used as an excuse to prolong the life of toxic relationships. I just think far too many good people have been roped into sticking it out with harmful people and relationships/marriages because they’ve been asked (or should I say, guilted into) “thinking of other people”. Sometimes, sympathy needs to give way to steel-hearted will, if it means ensuring one’s survival.

Thankfully, I have not had the experience of being in an abusive relationship (knock on wood!), but I have heard stories (even witnessed some actual events!) of women being abused by their spouses. If there’s a contributory cause to my ambivalence and fear about getting hitched, this is probably the big “IT”. I have heard of one woman who was together with a man for about nine years, before she married him. Up until they got married (they were boyfriend-girlfriend for about ten years), there was no indication at all that he would turn out to be a lousy husband. Less than a year after they got married, the union was over. The man had turned out to be a dud of a husband. Then, there are the fairly numerous accounts of whirlwind romances that turned into disastrous, abusive relationships/marriages. My mom once told me about this woman (her co-worker) who had one of the worst kinds of dud-husbands, ever – he was charming, but he was a womanizer, too. Even worse, he beat the woman up (even if he was being unfaithful to her). I think she stayed with him for many, many years, because of the children (here goes the “think of other people” bit here!). When she finally decided to leave him, the man actually stormed her office, pulled her by the hair in front of my mom and her other shocked co-workers … thankfully, the co-workers were able to save the woman from that heartless bastard. Finally, he got tired of stalking her, and moved on to fool another hapless woman.

How sad and tragic it is to give one’s heart and devotion to someone whom you think will honor and respect you … only for that man to treat you like trash. It’s so sad (INFURIATING!) when there are men who go up to the altar (or in front of a judge), vow to honor and cherish the woman they are binding themselves to … then proceed to treat her like shit. A PROMISE IS A PROMISE IS A PROMISE. If you can’t deliver the goods, don’t make that marriage vow! I don’t know about you, but I view marriages as something truly sacred. If you’re going to get hitched, you’d better make damned sure you will say what you mean, and mean what you say. Of course, that’s in a perfect world. We all know a lot of people get married for a host of reasons, other than the right ones.

In this day and age, it’s strange to hear that there are still those who think it’s better to remain married to an abuser, rather than be free. Why? Apparently, there is still the stigma attached to separated women. It’s shameful to be seen as separated, people think ill of you, men think you’re easy. Now, why is that? I really don’t get it. There are those who don’t separate from their spouses, even when they’re at each other’s throats 24/7 … why? Because it’s shameful (at least here in the Philippines) to separate (I for one can’t believe that view still exists, in the year 2009!). I am prudish and conservative in some ways, but I am definitely not in favor of staying in a marriage that’s gone way down south just because of what the others will say.

One excuse that’s given in favor of sticking it out is, “But what about the kids?” YES, what about the kids? What are you exposing them to, what are you teaching them about life and relationships when you are parents who squabble in front of your children all the time? Men, if you treat your wives badly in front of your children, what does that say? That it’s okay for men to treat women like shit? Your children will grow up thinking that’s right. Even worse, they might even end up with spouses who will be unfaithful to them, beat them up, dishonor them, etc. If you care about your daughters, aren’t you supposed to work at being the best fathers and husbands to your children? Women, if you treat your husbands badly in front of your children, or you allow your husbands to turn you into their cash cows, or punching bags, etc. what does that teach your children?

In order to rein a woman back into an abusive relationship, their spouses might say, “But what about the kids?” “What about the in-laws?” “What will the people think/say?” These are not valid reasons for people to rethink leaving, or consider returning. If you can’t love, honor, cherish your husband/wife, if you can’t stop yourselves from fighting in front of your children, then there is no valid reason to keep the relationship together.

And to those who will use those lines to rope your man or woman back into your toxic dynamic – please think of what it will do to your children. If a relationship is dead, bury it, move on. It’s simply not right to try and resurrect something that’s already dead, then expose children to it.

But that’s just my (heartless) opinion!

THE “HARROWING” PART …

It’s been an extremely exhausting, headache-migraine-causing past few weeks for me – I, together with a few other co-workers, have been assigned to take part in this Scriptwriting Clinic. Extremely agitating, as the results will determine our career’s fate – if we pass the clinic, we are going to be “promoted” and given regular writing assignments. If we fail, well, it’s time to find a new career!

Personally, I think this clinic is the answer to my prayers. I’ve long wanted a chance to advance in my current field … but with my career advancing the way it has, I’ve begun to question my abilities. You begin wondering, are they just keeping me around out of pity, or do I actually have potential? If I have potential, why am I not using it, and will I ever have a chance to show it? Should I stay, should I go? All these questions, I suppose, that spring out of turning forty. I don’t know how it is with other people who’ve hit that magical midlife age … in my experience, turning forty forces an assessment out of you - of where you’ve been, where you want to go. I know what I want to be, I know what I want to go, I know my strengths and weaknesses fairly well … the only question is, will what I know be in alignment with my life?

At this point, I am trying (I don’t know if I’m succeeding!) to emotionally detach from the Scriptwriting Clinic. You work in one job, one company for nearly five years, then you’re faced with what could be the big break you’ve been longing for – or your walking papers … I have to detach from it because it’s just too intense for me. All these emotions, some good, some bad. It’s like clinging to the edge of a cliff – your life hangs in the balance! Which is probably why my head feels like it’s been split in two for two days’ straight now … detach, detach!

The Scriptwriting Clinic is somehow terrifying, but I must say, many good things have sprung from it, so far. One unexpected outcome is, it’s helped me spiritually. It’s been quite a while since I’ve done this, but since this clinic started, I’ve been attending 6am masses with my Mom. Not that I’m trying to bribe God with my attendance, more like trying to calm my frayed nerves. When your career hangs in the balance like this, you really are scared beyond your wits. The praying has definitely helped in calming me down. Hopefully, the calmness will remain until the panel review, and once the results are announced. I must admit, there’s something that’s being renewed inside me, now that I’m doing this. You feel a sense of God helping you through the experience, as hard as it is. Hopefully, I’ll be able to continue attending the masses, even after the Clinic is finished. I kind of like the discipline of waking up early to do this – it’s also a good bonding moment with your family (never mind that sometimes you have no idea what the heavily-accented foreign priest is saying!).

When you’re in something like this, it helps when you’ve got company who are going through the same experience, and are also praying for your success … it’s a very positive experience, when you’re trying to support each other through the process – even if it’s just via text messages. There’s nothing toxic, everyone is rooting for the success of all. I like that.

Lastly, the Clinic has reawakened my enjoyment for writing. It’s been such a long time since I’ve had the opportunity to flex my writing muscles, that I’ve begun to doubt my skills … quite frankly, I’ve begun wondering if the passion was still there. Thankfully, I’ve realized that the creative/writing process is something that I still enjoy. It was what brought me to my wildest life decision – to give up my corporate attire, my make-up and heels, my Marketing and business know-how, and start from Level Zero in the TV/Entertainment field. It’s good to know that the spark is still there.

The experience, so far, has been harrowing – but in a fun way (I’m amazed it has that effect, really). We need to write about something dark, see – I must say, the experience of writing "dark" is harrowing. Emotionally, it’s very draining! First time I ever felt like my heart was run over by a truck (usually it's just the body that feels run over). Also very challenging to take something dark and turn it into something positive. I have no idea how my work will be received – but no matter what the outcome will be, I am thankful that the experience helped me enjoy writing scripts again. My friend was right, I should write something that I could enjoy for its sake alone.

So, now I have a few weeks of agonizing wait for the panel review, then the release of the results … the funny thing is, the agony begins after submission. So I suppose I am not that detached about the outcome, after all. I guess I’m just human. But I will be spending the next few weeks, hopefully, in a productive manner – for one, I definitely neglected the family pets during the Clinic, so now it’s time for me to return to the role of Dog Bath Girl … have to get back to those errands … definitely have to spend some time just relaxing … have to spend some time with my Mom on her 74th birthday this Sunday … and there’s that very nice, red, sleeveless blouse at Debenhams I must get back to …

So easy to say, so hard to do – to detach and let tomorrow take care of itself. Of course I’m scared of being booted out – I have a family to take care of! But I try to remind myself that my family and I have survived during worse times. At the very least, I’ll have closure and direction, if this doesn’t pan out. If I make it, I’m meant to stay, if not, well, I just have to keep the faith that there’s a better opportunity out there.

But oh, how I wish I’ll get to stay!

I found this neat word on the net, while surfing for some legal information I needed for the script – the word is Perdurabo. Which means, “I will endure to the end.” So, to this clinic, I say, “Perdurabo”. I will endure to the end, no matter what.

GONE TOO SOON

2009-07-09T09:27:00.001-07:00

There are just some people who are so “larger-than-life” that you literally forget they’re human, just like the rest of us. It’s with a sense of disbelief that you meet their hurts and foibles … and when they die … days later, you’re still in shock.

Years from now (assuming I don’t lose my memory), I’d be asked the question, where were you when Michael Jackson died? I’d say, I was at home, when I received a text from a friend (Nikki) at around 8:39 in the morning … and it was one of the most surprising messages I’d ever received in my entire life. I’m still reeling, come to think of it.

There are some artists who’ve been around for so long that you literally take their presence for granted. I have a very vague recollection of him visiting Manila when he was still part of the Jackson 5 in the seventies … I think that was around the time the Commodores (or was it Earth, Wind & Fire?) also came over for a concert (I definitely remember the sequined costumes and the BIG afro hairdos! Was their concert aired in Channel 9?). I was familiar with some of his songs when his voice was still trapped in the pre-pubescent stage – like “Ben,” that very sweet and sentimental song that was actually a theme song to this very scary movie (also entitled "Ben"?), “Got To Be There,” and “One Day In Your Life” … years after, I would listen to this dinky am/fm radio, and I would often hear these songs from his first solo album (his voice had gone beyond hormonal "crack" stage then!), “Off The Wall,” like “Rock With You” and “She’s Out Of My Life”. Somehow, his songs were always part of the DJ’s Top Ten.

When I hit my teens, there were songs like “Someone In The Dark” (remember E.T. saying “Thank You” during the song?). Also “Somebody’s Watching Me” (with Rockwell), and “State Of Shock” (with Mick Jagger). Then, of course, there was “Thriller”. Now, that was a great album, with a very memorable set of videos! Lots of nice memories associated with “Thriller,” too – I can still remember my schoolmates (and Jojo Alejar and the Tygers!) dancing along to “P.Y.T.” Before entering college, I had a Jane Fonda exercise tape whose songs included the Jacksons' “Can You Feel It” (yes, I felt the pain real bad!). Now, I never had that big an obsession over Michael Jackson and his music; but his music was definitely woven into my life. Even if I never had a chance to watch his concert in Manila in the 1990’s (Parañaque was too far, plus, the tickets were too expensive!), and never owned all of his records (I only have “Thriller” and “Off The Wall”), I was familiar with many of his songs; I liked many of them. Never mind if the videos accompanying his songs were too flashy for my taste. This guy was brilliant as a dancer, a singer, a songwriter. He had IT, whatever it was.

Which was why it was such a shame when fame and celebrity somehow eclipsed whatever talent he possessed. I think it was probably in the eighties when the paparazzi system started taking root; for that was around the time when I started noticing how tabloids would talk about celebrities. It seemed like, the bigger the celebrity was, the more the tabloid press would tear into him/her. And Michael Jackson was perhaps the meatiest target of all. The stories were quirky at first (e.g., Michael having a pet chimp, him wanting to purchase the Elephant Man's remains). Through the years, the stories grew progressively wild and disturbing. Since I have what is called a life, I never paid much attention to what the press said about him. But when the news about his child molestation case came out … I didn’t even know what to think. All I knew was, I felt very sad for him. If the allegations were true, then what a waste of talent! But the case was dismissed … yet, I continued to feel sad. I was certain he’d never recover from it, either professionally or personally.

A few weeks ago, I was very surprised when I saw Michael on a CNN news clip. He was going to stage his comeback tour! I was glad to see that, though my first thought was, oh, no! Will the people still watch him? Then, I hope he comes over to Manila, I’d like to watch him in concert! Alas, the comeback tour was cut short by his very untimely passing.

I wonder if he sensed he was leaving us, because why oh why would he call his comeback tour the “This Is It” tour? In any case, I think that title has a jinx-y quality to it. It just sounds … very final, doesn’t it?

Like the millions (possibly billions) of people around the world, I scampered to get hold of his videos, his CD’s, the magazines and newspapers commemorating his passing … and I forced myself to wake up in time to view the CNN coverage of his memorial. And I caught myself tearing up many times, notably when his coffin was brought into the stadium. Then, when the coffin made its egress. This was his last performance, for the entire world to see. Except that this time, it was his turn to “sit back and enjoy the show.”

And what a show it was. It was grand, sure, it was entertaining … but it was an apt salute honoring his life and work. I’m sure it took extra strength for Michael’s family to be present at such a very public memorial – to display their grief for the world to see (is there no end to them being in the fish bowl?). But they were very generous, entertainers even when they’re in pain. When you’re in the entertainment business, there’s a part of your life that you really give up (even if you don’t want to, even if the world doesn’t deserve it). You put yourself on display, that’s the price you pay. Sucks, but that’s the way it is.

It was good that, for at least the duration of the memorial, the world set aside its usual hurtful, degrading treatment of Michael and honored him instead. Those who delivered their eulogies gave a very clear picture of who Michael was, in their eyes – too late for the world to see, or maybe the world just didn’t care to see … but here was a man who, for all his talent and brilliance, and his tons of money, was probably the loneliest man in the world. How sad is it, to have his childhood taken from him. How sad, for him to grow into a man, and still have no semblance of a normal man’s life. How painful, to be laughed at and villified as a freak, and shunned as a pervert (even if the case – cases? – had been dropped).

I think the saddest anecdote I heard was the one shared by his brother, Marlon – just to be able to shop for CD’s, Michael actually had to wear a costume! Makes you rethink your very ordinary life.

Thinking about his life, I wonder now … who’s really the weirdo here? We’ve got this very talented man, who experienced child abuse. He never had a normal childhood, given that he worked at such a young age. And apparently, he had very big self-esteem issues, or why else would he go through changing his appearance into … whatever it was. If we have an ordinary Juan or Juana with the same issues, wouldn’t he or she do what Michael Jackson did – find a way to experience childhood (so what if it’s much later in life), or change his looks, if he/she had the resources? I’m pretty sure he/she would be so tempted to do the same thing, if there was enough money floating around.

Perhaps Michael became such a “larger-than-life” character that the world forgot he was human, after all (only with lots of money). Many people forgot he was a man who had his own demons to fight, his own journey to make, who needed to relish his own privacy. He became a commodity everyone had to have and demand from, earn money from. Rightly or wrongly, he became a do-no-wrong god, such that when the cracks began to show, the people condemned him. How dare you be less than perfect?!

If Michael seemed to have gone a little weird or mad towards the end of his life, I say, I can’t blame him, given how the world treated him. I still can’t say if he was guilty of the molestation allegations – but all I know is, it’s so sad he experienced abuse as a child. No one deserves that. (BTW, I’d like to believe he’s innocent of the charges).

Those who think that public figures don’t deserve some privacy, and must be followed around, pushed and harassed 24/7 in order to sell photos, shows, magazines, etc. … yes, I’m talking about those who make their living that way (the paparazzi) … that’s dirty blood money. Try to find another way to make a living, before karma returns to you and bites you in the butt. As for those people who can’t get enough of sensational fodder … maybe the next time we read about these people in the news, we should think how it would feel if we were in their shoes. This is a form of rape, in my view. Let’s think twice about patronizing these forms of media.

This is just my opinion, but if Michael Jackson was weird and mad … what’s weirder and madder is people feeding off other people’s lives for entertainment and profit. The world seems to have accepted the view that people are simply commodities. Let’s not forget what we truly are. We are people, not things.

Such a shame that we won’t be hearing any new music from Michael Jackson, the so-called King Of Pop, and now, the Greatest Entertainer Who Ever Lived - anymore. Just like the words to one of his songs, he truly has “gone too soon”. What a sad, abrupt end to a man who paid with his very happiness, his very life, to entertain schmoes like us. We didn’t deserve a talent like him, and certainly didn’t need to treat him so badly. But perhaps, in his new life in eternity, he will find all those things that were taken from him … his childhood, his privacy, his peace.

Hopefully, the world will realize that this must never happen again to someone else. No more Elvises, no more Michael Jacksons, no more Britneys, Angelinas and Brads … as John Taylor wrote (quoting him from his blog, as if we’re close!), let Michael’s story be a cautionary tale for all …

Thank you for the music, Michael. The Lord knows all, forgives all. May you find your eternal rest and happiness in His arms.

P.S. Rest in peace, too, Farrah Fawcett.

COUNTDOWN TO FORTY

2009-06-14T09:34:00.000-07:00

I’ve got a little more than twenty-four hours, and I’m soon going to hit that historic, milestone-y age many people still seem to dread … F-O-R-T-Y.

I can still remember the time when, as a very young child, I saw Liv Ullman’s “Forty Karats;” supposedly a movie between a forty-year old woman and a much younger man. Back then, I had no idea what the movie was truly about, but I can still remember being fixated on the number … what, forty? Wow, that’s O-L-D!

Then, almost thirty years ago, I remember the day ex-Beatle John Lennon was gunned down … his age at the time of his death? Also forty. Back then, I still thought, wow, that’s O-L-D!

Well, like it or not, I AM going to hit that age this coming week … I still can’t wrap it around my head. Me, forty? Gulp!

It’s not as if the signs aren’t there … I have known for quite a while that I’m REALLY hitting that vintage age (read: gurang!) … for instance, I remember requesting this gay performer at a karaoke comedy bar if he could sing “Heart To Heart” by Kenny Loggins (it was at the wrap-up party for a TV show my headwriter’s team was part of) … I still can’t forget his very snarky, bitchy reply, something along the lines of (if you read between the lines), they don’t perform songs that “old”. Reading between his lines, it meant, it’s a song that only gurangs know, and didn’t deserve to be performed by someone like him! I don’t quite remember how his fellow performer tried to dilute the sting of his reply, I do remember smiling and saying it was fine (all the while secretly imagining I had an axe to whack that bitchy gay performer with). Later on, same gay performer sang something even older (and completely baduy, I might add!), it was a Shirley Bassey song, if I remember correctly … I still can’t figure why he wouldn’t sing my eighties song, but sing something even MORE vintage … but that was definitely one of the moments when I realized I’ve definitely joined the ranks of the old farts.

Some signs you’re turning into a “gurang” include the following …

* The songs/videos/movies you like (considered “cutting-edge,” “young and hip” at one point in time) are now part of nostalgia-driven shows like MYX’ “Backtraxx”

* The sex gods of your youth are turning wrinkly all over and losing their hair

* You’re starting to lose touch with what’s “in,” when once upon a time, you could recognize what was “hot” and “not”

* A young, handsome man can strip naked in front of you, but you’d still have the hots for the older, naked man (yes, I am talking about HIM and his naked, glorious eggplant – whoever you are, you really should remember to put your clothes on when you’re stepping out of a hotel balcony!)

* You’re starting to have “senior moments,” such as, looking for your eyeglasses when they’re just on top of your head

* You begin experiencing aches and pains you never had before (in my case, it’s the hip and certain joints!)

* More and more youngsters call you “Tita” instead of “Ate”

* The gray hair is starting to show up, unannounced and uninvited!

These days, it appears the world (and the field I currently work in) are SO terrified of growing old, that ANYTHING that has remotely to do with age isn’t just shunned, but dreaded as if it were worse than death itself. I visit my hairdresser, and it’s a given that I’ll have the assistant or the attending hair stylist comment, “Ma’am, ang dami na ninyong uban! Kulayan natin, gusto ninyo?” When, from afar, you really can’t see much of the damned things! You turn the TV on, and you’ve got all these thirty-something celebrities desperately clinging to youth with their chemical-filled and surgery-ripped faces and body parts.

I’ll be honest – I’m also human, and so I am also affected by this (moronic) perspective. I, too, want to remain youthful! I also look at myself and wonder how many years I have left before everything starts going down south.

But the fact is, I AM human – and like the rest of humanity, my body parts will soon … hopefully not soon, but later! … accept the gravitational pull. My body will wear out … I will grow old, I will die. That’s how things are supposed to be.

It’s very clear to me right now, it’s staring me in the face, this fact about mortality. It’s not just me starting to be “un-hip” like the young ‘uns … my body is (thankfully!) slowly showing some signs of age, and wear and tear … as I’ve told some people, now that I’m hitting forty, I’m beginning to realize that, hey, if I were a battery, my energy’s about half-spent by now … I only have about half left … oh, crap!

A little more than a year ago, I was at my headwriter’s birthday party … I sat together with this actor who, as he grew progressively soused, revealed something to us. He said he was going through a mid-life crisis. It didn’t appear that way, because he was so chatty then … but soon after (he had politely left our group to throw up in the bathroom), I caught him sitting quietly in one corner of the bar, tears silently streaming down his face. I remember telling a couple of my companions, “Oh, no! I’m turning forty next year! Is THAT going to happen to me, as well?”

Right now, I must admit, I am feeling as CRANKY as HELL, and a little blue, somehow … I still can’t say if it’s me joining the mid-life crisis population, or just PMS. I am still watching if I’ll engage in those outrageous, what-the-hell activities mid-lifers seem to take up (an affair, drugs, gambling, biking, knitting, whatever).

But hopefully, turning forty won’t turn me into some lunatic clinging to youth … I just want to be a better, improved version of me. At this point in my life, I am happy with who I currently am. So, I’m no way near the vision I had of myself back in my twenties – I thought I would be married, with kids, rich and stable with a VP position in some corporation … I’m a soon-to-be-forty year-old, single woman with aging relatives and a pack of dogs instead of a husband and kids, a question mark-career in a madcap industry that’s as stable as a lunatic atop a billboard in EDSA, an imaginary bank account, and a heap-load of bills I have yet to make current. That’s fine, too (except for the bank account and the bills – to that, I say, oh, crap!).

All I can say is – I make no apologies for my life. So, my life hasn’t turned out to be as dreamy, glamorous or sexy as someone straight out of “Sex And The City”. My life is pretty average and ordinary. But that’s fine, too.

At this age, it’s pretty maddening to see that you’re still pretty much where you’re at when you’re younger… there’s still no telling what the actual outcome might be. Life is still as unpredictable. Thankfully, one can still hope and dream. My mom once told me that you only grow old on the outside – you still feel the same inside, no matter what age you’re in. I can see what she meant by that – sure, when I’m beset by problems, I do feel somewhat old, but most of the time, I still feel young. If there’s something I think I need to protect now that I’m getting older, it’s my ability to be young inside. There’s just so much out there to destroy one’s heart, I just have to protect myself from that.

Right now, I can say, I already most, if not all, of what I want and need. I went through some serious decluttering of the house (beginning September of last year). At the onset, it was just one of those chores, but it soon turned into an actual metaphor for life. Instead of always fixating on the future, I just started being “in the now,” started looking at all this stuff, began assessing which ones were necessary in life … started weeding out the ones that weren’t … it’s gotten me where I’ve always wanted to be. Close to the bare minimum, where all I have in my life is what’s necessary and wanted. The excesses borne out of reckless spending, retail therapy, keeping up with one’s peers … gone, gone, gone. Now that I’m hitting forty, I’m happy to report that I’m more aware of the “bare bones” of my life – I can see and appreciate what I have.

Not to say my work is complete – life is always a work in progress, filled with contradiction and ruts. I still have a long way to go in achieving the life I’ve always dreamed of – not exactly the one I had as a teenager, but still one I’d like to chase after (if dreams could really be caught!), as fast as my wobbly, possibly-creaking knees will take me.

I would still like to be “successful” in my career (only God knows if it’s still going to be in media/TV or somewhere else) – to be involved in great, challenging projects … great if it reaps positive feedback (even awards?) But, more than that, I would like my skills to do something good, not just for myself, but for others. I would like to have a positive impact on my community and peers.

I would like to be financially stable – I definitely don’t mind being RICH! – so I can provide for my family (if I’m to remain single), or provide for my family AND set up a new one (in case I get married).

I still would like to have a meet someone special and build a family of my own … I haven’t given up hope on that dream yet! All in all, I wish for the next forty years of my life (if I have that many left!) to be even more interesting, happy and productive as the ones I’ve had, so far.

But since I still can’t see what the future has in store for me, I can only be grateful for what God has blessed me with. Right now, I am thankful …

… that God has provided me with a great incentive to try to create a good life, not screw up (that much?) – my Mom (so what if she hates to cook), my auntie (so what if she drives me nuts at least half the time), and my five dogs (even if I hate fleas, ticks and ear mites).

… that God has given me a wonderful support group, from the community I’ve lived with for almost thirty years, to my best friends since grade school/high school/college, to my prayer group at Cenacle. Whether they’re still part of my circle, have gone back to be with the Lord, or aren’t part of my circle for some reason anymore … you have all taught me so much about how it is to be a real person, a real friend.

… that God has blessed me with work, that helps me provide for my family, gives me balance in life (now, I have time for myself AND my family), and is always interesting.

… that God has given me bosses, leaders and co-workers who have proven to be great examples, and also mentors, not just at work but also in real life (such as Angel, who’s always been kind to his staff; Kit and Joel, who taught me PR, and also how to parallel-park; Mr. Zammy Zamora and Joey Avellana, the kindest president/CEO’s I’ve ever known; to my current headwriters and co-workers, who are amazingly sane and generous, despite the insane industry they’re in).

… that I have known the experience of falling in love with someone (twice!) … hopefully, the third time’s a charm (and it will be the man of my dreams!).

… that I don’t look/seem THAT O-L-D for an old fart (not yet, anyway!)

Thank you, Lord, for all the blessings you’ve given me in my life, so far – I look forward to the life you’ll design for me in the next forty years … I’ll try not to screw up then!

PLEASE WATCH "ZORRO" ON GMA

2009-03-27T12:37:00.000-07:00

Zorro: Behind the Scenes

Better late than never to air this shameless, showbiz plug! I would like to ask all of you to watch “Zorro,” which airs Mondays through Fridays over at GMA, 8pm (following “24 Oras”).

Each time I’m involved in a new show, I always wonder if there’s anything that can still top it – is there anything harder to work on, anything more challenging? Well, so far, “Zorro” appears to be the biggest, most complicated project I’ve been part of … but no matter, I LOVE being part of this show (knock on wood!)! What a great honor and privilege to be part of this highly challenging project.

Did I tell you that we actually had to sit through an entire afternoon of Philippine History in preparation for the show?

It was pretty strange being in a huge classroom situation, studying History with “artistas,” but it was great fun, even if it took several hours (and no, I’m not saying this because the lechon was overflowing that day). I think there’s something that makes work magical, when you can sense the intensity of interest and involvement in the people you work with. History is usually a deadly subject in the hands of a boring lecturer, but History was definitely interesting that day! You know the lecture is a hit, when the room is abuzz with comments and questions. Everyone was interested, everyone was excited … it was just great. It makes you think that something special is in the offing.

By this time, I’m quite sure you have seen the teaser ads for “Zorro,” or maybe even snippets of the show … please watch it, if only to give you wonderful eye candy (and no, I’m not talking about Richard Gutierrez and TJ Trinidad!). You will get to see this wonderful “town” that consists of actual, reconstructed old houses. It’s a sight to behold, really.

We had our press conference for the show a couple of weeks ago – my highlight of the evening was having my picture taken with one of the show’s actors, TJ Trinidad (“Zorro” is his first TV project in GMA). Now, as you all know, I don’t really get starstruck (I’m more into musicians); but I will admit, TJ is one of the actors I pay attention to (and no, I don’t mean stalk-like behavior!). Sure, he has the looks (as they say, muy guapo!) … but he’s one of the actors currently on the scene who can act WELL … and did I say he has brains? A good-looking actor with talent and brains … and did I say he has this soft, gracious laugh, and quiet, shy demeanor (at least that’s my first impression!)? Now that’s a lethal combination (for me, at least!) …

My co-workers wanted to have his picture taken with him that night. I really enjoy being the photographer, so I was just very glad to take the pictures. Anyway, once I had taken the pictures, we kind of stood in silence and regarded each other. I’m pretty sure he was thinking, does this girl want my picture taken with her? I was thinking, was he waiting for me to ask him? I think he kind of realized I wasn’t really into that, so he began to turn … and that was the exact moment when I thought, oh, screw it! Have your picture taken with him, you might never get a chance to work together again! Stop being so shy! So, I blurted out something like, “Could I have my picture taken with you?” (I forgot how I said it, my mind had gone blank!) Of course, he said, “Sure!”

So, there we were onstage, waiting for my co-worker to snap the photo … thank God for Beckay’s Palm Pilot, we had to stand there for quite a while, arms around each other, while my co-worker tried to figure how to work the camera (mas matagal-tagal na fake bonding din iyon, haha!). Of course, I was very d’yahe because we had to wait. “I’m soooo sorry!” I said to him. But he was so gracious. He said, “That’s okay!”

So, my co-worker finally gets to take our picture. I shook his hand and said, “Thank you so much!” And he did the same with me. Haaay. What a gracious actor. Forgive me, Roger, for being temporarily unfaithful!

Here's the pic (oh, if only I were thin! He looks like Stick Boy next to me, while I look like his mama, yargh! Damn these fat cells! Time to chuck the Clover Chips!)

So far, the project involves a lot of work … but I’m so thankful to be working on this. I’m thankful enough that I have work … but to be working on a project that seems to have the makings of something special … definitely a blessing. So, please share the wonderful experience with me and watch the show if you can (if you can’t, I’m pretty sure, you can come across it for a while in online channels like http://www.pinoychannel.tv, http://www.watchpinoy.com, http://www.youtube.com or http://www.ebenta.com). Please check out http://www.igma.tv for more information on the show and its cast. Please support this show, so the network will have a greater incentive to produce shows like this (big budget, big everything …)

… and hopefully, next time, the bida will be TJ Trinidad!!!!!

http://www.igma.tv/video/7039/Zorro-Behind-the-Scenes//2

THE BEST LOVE COMES FROM A PUPPY - IN HONOR OF BRUSKO AND BARAKO

2009-03-27T11:01:00.000-07:00

DOG HEAVEN

2009-03-27T10:51:00.000-07:00

It’s never easy to lose a friend, especially when that friend happens to be a puppy.

Sure, it’s just the way things sometimes are. In any litter, there’s always a possibility you’d lose one or two … maybe even all … it’s been more than twenty-four years since I first experienced the loss of losing puppies, and so I don’t cry my eyes out anymore. But believe me, there’s still a pain in my heart whenever I lose one of them.

Maybe it’s because they tap into my maternal side, I don’t know. For one, I can’t even believe I have one, considering how (currently – hopefully, not permanently!) ambivalent I am towards the concept of marriage. I guess I’m one of the very few women who views marriage as “ball and chain”, instead of the traditional “wedding gown and bouquet”. But there’s just something about puppies that bring out that “maternal” side of me. Sure, they’re pretty ugly to look at the first time they come out of their mommies’ bellies (think, white, hairy longganiza, or oblong mice). But there’s just a special bond that begins to form the very first time you hold them in your palm (yes, they’re that tiny), or you place them on your tummy, while they continue resting in slumber.

I think what I enjoy the most is seeing them suddenly come to life, with their very own personalities. For the first week or so, you can pick them up and look at them; but all you’d get is a blank stare. But then, come the third week or so, something magical happens. You check on them, and, surprise, surprise! They’re all alive, with their own personalities, and all of them are so, so happy to see you – as if they’ve known you forever.

It’s always a joy to have puppies come to you, their tails wagging so hard you wonder if they’d fall out of their butts, their faces looking as if they’re so, so happy. Of course, it’s a pain to have them around – for creatures that tiny, they sure carry lots of potential for stinking up the place! But you love them just the same, even if your house starts smelling like one entire dog house; or your back starts to hurt from all the bending you’ve been making to pick up all the poop and clean up the wee-wee.

I think it was one of the Snoopy posters I “Google’d” that said, the only love you can buy is the love of a puppy. I suppose that’s true … but I’ll probably edit it to say, the only UNCONDITIONAL love you can buy is the love of a puppy. A puppy will always think you’re the hottest thing on earth, even if that’s the farthest thing from the truth. How could you not love them, when they look up to you as if you’re one, hot goddess? You don’t need to be rich, or beautiful, or smart … you can be yourself, and they’ll love you, regardless. Humans, they’re not as reliable as dogs when it comes to love and friendship … humans can break your heart with their words and actions, but a dog … unless a dog bites you, you won’t be harmed, really. And the only time they break your heart is when, after giving you all their love, they leave this earth and pass on.

Each time a litter is born, I always wish they’d remain tiny forever, so I could consider keeping them … but of course, it’s a foolish wish, we all know they grow up. And with five dogs, I really can’t afford to keep more. So, I try to enjoy my time with them the best way I can. Never attempt to give them names, because that’s like the kiss of death – it just makes everything so much harder to give them away. Not that it’s a fool-proof way to safeguard your heart. The last time I gave a puppy away (and that was just a few months ago), I actually cried as I gave it away to its new family. There’s just something about the love a puppy gives to you that makes it so, so hard to part with them.

With this last batch of puppies, I thought I was doing okay. I was due to give them away this week, since they’re hitting two months. Two months is always the deadline I set in giving them away – with my salary, I can't afford to wreck the budget with all the shots, so I have to make sure they’re given to the deserving owners within that time frame (so they can have the puppies vaccinated). I thought all would be fine, since there were no signs of them having the dreaded diseases like distemper, leptospirosis or Parvo …

I was wrong, dammit!

No one told me that day that one of the pups had died, quite suddenly – “Brusko” was a big, roly-poly puppy that always liked bullying its smaller siblings. My aunt said she couldn’t tell me because I was about to have lunch – WHAAAAT? What kind of stupid reason was that?

And so, Thursday was a race to the vet to have them checked. “Barako,” the puppy that didn’t have hair on its nose seemed like he wasn’t his usual, perky self. I was so “agua de pataranta” that day over the pups that I actually forgot to bring the sick one (that was kind of dumb), and so I had to make a second trip to the vet (good thing the vet’s clinic is situated just outside our subdivision).

The diagnosis? Anemia, brought about by fleas and ticks! Damn these creatures! It’s infuriating how quickly they multiply. And even if you catch the gits, they can still harm the puppies with their eggs.

The vet gave “Barako” and the other puppies Frontline, and advised me to give them an antibiotic and multivitamins with an iron supplement … sadly, “Barako” died this morning. So far, the three – I call them “Ate” (she’s the plump puppy, the eldest, with big ears), “Putot” (he has a very tiny tail”) and “Kuting” (the smallest one) appear to be doing well tonight. There’s no telling what will happen in the next few days, though. Last night, “Barako” bounded up to me with tail wagging, now he’s gone. I can only pray that they make it.

The next time my dogs get pregnant, I’ll definitely make sure I’ll have them treated with that Frontline medication, so that tick and flea problem won’t be that terrible. The problem these days is, I can’t give my big dogs their usual flea and tick sprays and powders, since the puppies are still nursing … next time, I’ll do the right thing.

In the meantime, like I said, my heart still hurts from losing “Barako” and “Brusko”. I hope they’re watching over me and my family from Dog Heaven.

RICK ASTLEY LIVE IN MANILA: HOLD ME IN YOUR ARMS (AND I’LL LET YOU HOLD MY BUTT, TOO!)

2008-08-02T14:43:00.000-07:00

I was absolutely thrilled once I heard that Rick Astley was coming over to Manila for a concert in August. Rick just happens to be one of my college-day crushes, you know. If you knew me well, at all, you wouldn’t be surprised why – he had boy-next-door looks, and loads of musical talent. Oh, and did I tell you he was a drummer, too? I swear, I don’t understand why I’ve got such a thing for cute-looking British drummers ...

Anyway, I immediately told my friends about Rick’s concert, and most of them were excited about going (all except Steph, who said no other concert could top Duran Duran’s). Beckay, Efy, Nikki and Gay were eager to purchase tickets to see him. Everyone eventually agreed on buying general admission tickets, but I wasn’t so sure. Would I have a chance to see him? The concert was scheduled to take place on August 1, a Friday … my headwriter usually holds meetings on Fridays! What’s a girl to do?

Of course I bought a damned ticket! And I prayed to God for another miracle!

Up until last Sunday, I wasn’t really sure if I would be able to go. I was pretty sure my headwriter was going to hold a meeting on that day (at one time, I asked him if our meetings were already going to be pegged on Fridays, he said, yes, more or less – GULP!). But I finally gathered enough courage to ask him if I could be excused from a meeting that day, and what do you know? He actually said yes! Thank God for another miracle!

Alas, I missed an opportunity to meet Rick in person! There was a Rick party scheduled at Alchemy and he was actually there! I had an opportunity to go, courtesy of Gay; but alas, she was too sleepy and tired to attend the event. As for me, I wasn’t in the best of moods that day. It was also a very rainy afternoon (something more to add to my blue day). And so I had to content myself with watching the party from my TV set (MYX' Backtracks covered the event).

The day of the concert finally arrived. Everyone made sure their outfits were comfortable enough – I mean, hey, this is a Rick Astley concert! So what if you’re hitting your thirties and quickly approaching middle age? You’re supposed to get off your butt and dance! So, most of us wore sneakers (the better to bop around with). Some of us even wore blazers as a homage to Rick’s customary suit.

We had dinner at Pizza Hut Bistro in Gateway, and then it was time to head off to the Araneta Coliseum. Some of us ran into old peers – as for me, I ran into someone I hadn’t seen since I graduated from college – it was Susan Lim, who was now into the concert scene. Alas, she was neither a promoter or producer that night (dang, I was hoping she’d be the key to a Rick meet-and-greet!). Still, it was good to see an old peer from school.

We made it to a fairly good spot in the General Admission section (where the seats are actually steps, hahaha!). The sound wasn’t really very good, but at least there was a huge gigantic screen that magnified the very tiny view of the stage. The opening act was this band whose name I can’t even remember (I did some surfing on the net, and came across this blogger who says the opening act was a Cebu-based band named Tres). I don’t really like most of the songs they performed (frankly, the only song I liked was their rendition of The Power Station’s “Some Like It Hot”), but they were good musicians, especially their drummer and guitarist (hey, shades or Roger and Andy there!).

I think the band could do without their female vocalist. Truth be told, she danced better than she sang. Not to say I liked her dancing. Maybe it’s the generation gap actually talking here, but she wasn’t really dancing … more like, gyrating like a dancer in a seedy bar. I guess she wanted to be Shakira or Marimar … but it just didn’t sit well with me (then again, I’m a girl so maybe I’m the wrong target market). Also, I know it’s probably cool and acceptable to wear something close to nothing these days; but performing in front of ten thousand people in your underwear (even if your navel is covered, and your pek-pek shorts are bright pink) is pretty distracting, to say the least. I just feel it cheapens the entire act and the band when their female lead is made up to look like a singing stripper. I mean, you can sing well, even with clothes on … besides, isn’t it cold inside the Araneta?!

I wonder if Rick actually got to meet the girl … I bet his blood pressure shot up, with THAT outfit!

The opening act was good, musically; though I can’t say if their songs were really a perfect fit to the concert, even if the songs they sang were from the eighties. Maybe if they sang other Stock-Aiken-Waterman songs, it would have worked. But they did rock, so it was a little jarring. It was ironic their debut song was a ballad called “Angel” … it was okay, but the band was playing too many songs, the crowd was getting pretty impatient and agitated. They got the crowd clapping and yelling, all right; but I’m not sure if it all meant, “Great job, guys!” or “Get the hell off the stage, already!”

During the intermission, my friends and I wondered … what would be the opening song? Would it be “Never Give You Up?” or “Together Forever”? “Whenever You Need Somebody”? After a fairly long wait (someone from our section was already yelling, “Inaantok na ako!”), there he was … oh, my. Finally!

I am telling you … if Duran Duran looked like guys in their thirties … Rick Astley looked trapped in the eighties … but in a marvelous way! Rick appeared on stage in a suit, with hair intact and a face that looked like it hadn’t aged a day! If Rick were bread, he’d be the kind that’s been stuck in a freezer and defrosted … no significant decline, at all!

Actually, the only signs of age were … he had to wear glasses when he had to read the sponsors’ plugs … promoters and producers, why oh why did you have Rick do this? It’s not classy, at all! Doesn’t befit the man!

As for the voice … oh, my. Same, same, same … bloody marvelous! Perfect timbre, perfect pitch! The crowd roared the moment he sang. From the coliseum’s gigantic screens, I could see Rick’s very surprised and pleased reaction. He was very appreciative of the crowd, telling everyone he can’t believe the number of beautiful women out there (how bolero!). He said, “Maraming salamat” (strangely understandable, given his British/Scottish/Welsh-like accent), and even “Magandang gabi” (Beckay said he said it, but I didn’t really hear it).

From what I remember, Rick apologized to everyone for taking too long to come to Manila. He talked about canoeing a lot in the River Thames (was that what he was busy with?), and having a family (I think he talked about his daughter, who was now sixteen? Or is it six-foot-tall? My, talk about the passage of time!). But he did make up for lost time, and how!

He sang all the hits! I had two “I can name that tune in one note, while the other ten thousand can’t” moments when “Whenever You Need Somebody” and “The Love Is Gone” played. He even played the guitar! And, oh, my … he even invited a girl up onstage, a very pretty, plump girl named Gina, to sing “My Arms Keep Missing You” together with him. VERY LUCKY GIRL!

One of the bloggers wrote (in reference to the Rick and Gina moment) that she wanted to bitch-slap someone next to her in envy … I don’t blame her. Wow. Gina was sooooo lucky to have had the opportunity to come that close to Rick AND sing with him! As Rick said, it was the biggest karaoke session in Manila when they sang … Rick was so funny, once Gina began singing, he actually ran away from her to give her the floor. And he made all the women (and maybe some of the men?) sigh in envy, as he slow-danced with Gina. Gina had her hands around Rick’s waist, I think? I missed the VERY grand moment when Rick VOLUNTARILY dropped Gina’s hands down to his very royal, British butt!

Now, if I were in Gina’s shoes, I would have grabbed his butt AND made him grab mine, too! (I mean, wouldn’t it be great to slow-dance with a handsome, well-preserved man with a beautiful voice AND feel each other up … well, sort of!).

All throughout the show, Rick alluded to having the Philippines’ very own Kuya Dick (read: Roderick Paulate!) come up on-stage. My memory of Roderick Paulate crooning Rick’s songs is pretty hazy (well, non-existent), so I’m not sure if it’s such a traumatic event that I completely forgot all about it (then again, I’m hitting forty, so that could be a factor!). I thought he was just kidding … but then … then, it happened. During the encore portion of the show!

EEEEEK!

The crowd erupted in claps, cheers, hoots and whistles (there was some booing, but they were drowned out by the cheering), as Kuya Dick finally came onstage. I swear, I couldn’t stop laughing! I just think Rick was such a great sport to play back-up guy to Kuya Dick (who, amazingly, actually sounded a little bit like Rick that night!)…

As much as I loved seeing two Dicks (for a second, that sounded like a pretty dirty Freudian slip there), what I really wanted was an honest-to-goodness Rick encore. Thankfully, Rick performed the song a second time … then, he bid all of us goodbye. During the show, he said, it was a very long way to Manila; but the trip was all worth it. He promised to return, drawing cheers from everyone. I’m pretty sure he heard the coolest scream of appreciation from the best screamer in the house that night – our very own Efy! (Her piercing scream reminds me of massacre movies!).

Definitely … Rick didn’t give up on us, let us down, turn around, desert us, he didn’t make us cry, say goodbye, tell a lie and hurt us …

After the concert, I wanted to have a go at meeting him backstage (I'm an autograph hunter, when it comes to my favorite musicians), but the ladies convinced me otherwise, saying, he’s probably jet-lagged and needed his rest. Sigh. So, we just had coffee at Starbucks … all we could do was sigh and say, over and over, “Ang guwapo niya!” and “Ang galing ng boses niya!”

If concerts were anything like liquor, Rick’s would be a very nice, very pleasant cocktail (just like the mixes my headwriter frequently shares with his team) – high quality, very pleasant buzz. Duran’s would be a truck of vodka. Months later, you still have a hang-over! I love Rick’s concert, but I have yet to find another concert whose artists could only make me sigh (I couldn’t even speak!).

What I noticed about Rick: (1) He drank from a mug (what, not mineral water? Was that coffee to cure jetlag?); (2) He liked saying (a la Austin Powers), “Yeah, baby!” with something like a mini-squat of the knees; and (3) He had this new dance move (Did anyone notice this? Hindi na nagkukula ng labada, more like, left foot step back, right foot step back?)

There was this girl who came alone to the concert (she ended up joining our group, sort of, and dancing/screaming with us) … her name was Joni? You can’t help but admire this girl’s love for Rick. Come alone to a concert?! Wow!

She said Rick wrote to her, via his Friendster account. I still can’t quite believe that Friendster account is actually Rick’s, though …

Rick, I can’t wait to see you again! Next time, I’ll see you in the front row, with my handy dandy binoculars (hopefully mine, not borrowed), a brand new digital camera AND a video cam!

THE OPENING BAND’S SETLIST (as I remember it)

We Built This City (On Rock And Roll)
Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now
Easy Love
Dress You Up (appropriately sung by the female singer – she needs to dress up!)
Some Like It Hot (smoking drums here!)
Angel
King Of Wishful Thinking
Jump

RICK ASTLEY’S MANILA SETLIST

Together Forever
It Would Take A Strong Strong Man
The Love Has Gone (I LOVE THIS!)
When I Fall In Love
She Wants To Dance With Me
Don’t Say Goodbye
Hold Me In Your Arms
The Ones You Love
Take Me To Your Heart
Cry For Help (I LOVE THIS!)
Hopelessly
Ain’t Too Proud To Beg
My Arms Keep Missing You (with Gina)
Whenever You Need Somebody (I LOVE THIS MOST OF ALL!)

ENCORE

Never Gonna Give You Up – acoustic version with Kuya Dick Paulate
Never Gonna Give You Up – Rick’s version (the best!)

* On an unrelated note – promoters, why, oh, why is Tony Hadley’s concert poster sooo ugly? You could have chosen a better picture to showcase the man. Why did you have to choose a photo where he looks like he doesn’t even have any teeth? Very unattractive! If the concert bombs, that poster will be partly to blame!

* And who’s with me on this? Tears For Fears LIVE In Manila! Won’t that be great!

MY LIFE SO FAR (BROUGHT TO YOU BY DSL)

2008-07-22T11:37:00.000-07:00

It would be more exciting if I told you I’ve finally met the man of my dreams, or I’ve won lots of money and am off to retire in some island I’ve bought … but alas, none of those have happened (not yet, anyway!). I’ve yet to find some mind-boggling, heart-stopping event to top Duran Duran’s Manila concert as the highlight of my year … but for now, I think I’ll content myself with the happy thought of finally (after years of hemming and hawing!) having a DSL account. If my headwriter knew about this, I bet he would say the exact thing he said to me after I had purchased my first USB … “Renny, welcome to the 21st century!”

I’ve always dreamt of switching from dial-up to DSL/broadband (I love the internet, after all!) – but since I’m a single girl with a lot of responsibilities (read: bills), I’ve had to put off having DSL – it’s expensive, I don’t need it. But (thanks or no thanks?) to my turtle-slow dial-up internet service, I finally lost my patience (or should I say my mind?).

This is what I went through on a daily basis – internet speed of 38 kbps (on a modem that’s supposed to run at 115!), meaning I had to waste much of my precious time waiting for attachments to download, pages to load up … After seeing and paying for our Meralco bill, I finally snapped. All that money spent on crappy dial-up internet efficiency? Screw it, I’m going to get a DSL account!

We’ve got a PLDT landline, but I decided to get a Bayantel account (just the standalone DSL package) – hopefully, the P1,999 installation fee and the succeeding
P899 monthly payments will prove to be worthy expenses. It’s been less than forty-eight hours since I came online using DSL, and I’m happy so far! Actually, even my friends were so excited, they scheduled a Yahoo! Messenger chat last night with me to celebrate!

I can’t believe I can download e-mail attachments in less than a minute now … Now, I can do my research quickly and without much hassle! I can’t believe I can surf the net and see pages that pop up in less than ten seconds (I used to visit pages that wouldn’t even come onscreen even after an hour of waiting!). I can do all my multi-tasking in less time now, I can turn my computer off sooner since I’m wasting less time … so, hopefully, my next Meralco bill won’t cause my blood pressure to shoot up …

And, as a bonus, wow! I love the Internet Radio (I’m listening to Yahoo’s New Wave station right now) … … and I love, love, love You Tube! It’s so worth it, having DSL, when you can visit You Tube and look for old videos and shows. Last night, I had a blast checking out shows from my childhood (vintage Sesame Street, The Muppet Show and The Electric Company), and eighties videos by my teenage fantasies like the British band, Curiosity Killed The Cat (You still sound fine, Ben Volpeliere Pierrot, but you’ll look much better if you’ll retire your baggy suits, they don’t suit you anymore! Plus, get together with the other bandmates and write new songs!). Anyway, here’s what I’ve been meaning to share of my life, so far …

SWING OUT SISTER MEET-AND-GREET AT THE BLOCK

This happened right before Duran Duran’s Manila concert. I’m rarely star-struck by local artists (not that I’ve got colonial mentality, I’m really just awed by musicians more than actors). Since Swing Out Sister is a band whose music I’ve always enjoyed, I decided I would drop by SM The Block and line up for the meet-and-greet to have my CD’s signed by them. I attended the event together with my friend, Naomi (who took the photos). Alas, there was no mini-concert during the meet-and-greet, and the male half of Swing Out Sister wasn’t there … but Corinne Drewery was there, and she was lovely. She still looks very regal, very beautiful … apart from the few lines around her eyes (which one can only see up-close), she’s actually ageless!

The events organizers and music executives whispered an instruction to the people lining up – please don’t sidle up next to her, she doesn’t like it. Yet, there were a few who apparently couldn’t help themselves. They had their pictures taken as they stood right next to Corinne, who was seated. If Corinne was displeased, she didn’t show it. She was very friendly, smiled broadly and talked quite a bit with the people who lined up to meet her. The events guy (I’m assuming he was a music executive) told me I couldn’t have my old Swing Out Sister CD’s signed, just the new one … and yet, Corinne was very accommodating. I hope she didn’t notice I was slightly nervous upon meeting her! I told her I had seen her concert about twenty years ago – she said, has it been that long? It’s been more like sixteen, eighteen years. Am I so old? I could only say, no, you look as young as the time I saw you in concert (and I wasn’t joking!) I had my copy of their latest CD signed. When she saw the other CD’s in my hand, she asked me if I wanted her to sign them, too. I said I was hoping she could, but the guy said, I could only have the new CD signed. She shook her said, then answered, “No, I’ll sign them.” Imagine that! She even had a self-deprecating comment on hand after she handed the signed CD’s back to me – “Antique!” We shook hands before I left, she was very gracious.

POST-BIRTHDAY CELEBRATIONS AND VACATIONS

I failed to have that much-desired mini-vacation at Balay Indang, but I did have a very happy 39th birthday. Thankfully, I have not yet had the “middle age experience” (I only hope it doesn’t hit me next year!) – at a birthday party hosted by my headwriter, I was in the company of one actor who shared his middle age crisis experience with us (that was while grew progressively drunk). I couldn’t help but say, oh no! I’m thirty-eight, turning thirty-nine – will this hit me? (The actor looked like he was having a hell of a time dealing with it, judging by the amount of liquor he consumed, and that one fleeting glance I had of him, when he looked absolutely depressed). Thankfully, there was no crisis … there were deadlines, though, as my headwriter assigned me to write a week’s worth of scripts for the show I’m currently part of. I consider that assignment a great birthday blessing – it gives me hope I might make it in this field, after all!

AN INSTANT VACATION …

My best friend, Steph, invited me for a day of swimming to celebrate her son/my and Beckay’s godson, Jakob. It rained just before we were scheduled to leave. Thankfully, the rain stopped, and we decided to push through with the activity. We drove to this place called MMLDC, located somewhere in Antipolo … right before we parked, I remember Steph and Beckay’s mother suggesting, what if we stay overnight? Steph asked me if I could go … of course, it would be stupid of me to say no. Me, say no to an instant vacation? Of course not! So, my godson Jakob got his wish to stay at the hotel; yours truly indirectly got her much longed for vacation!

Though we only stayed overnight, it was absolutely great. Really great to leave home for a while, forget worries and responsibilities and just have some FUN for a change! It was great spending time in the pool (who cares if I can only float and swim like a dog!), great spending time with Steph, even if it’s just playing scrabble (she’s married now, so I can’t spend as much time with her as I would like). And believe it or not, that was the only time (in a very long time!) that I slept early and long. I can’t do that in my own room without Sleepasil (an herbal sleeping aid), and a couple of headache pills!

Before leaving, we visited this aviary that MMLDC had … that was wonderful. I fell in love with one particular bird, that was very, very friendly towards us … he/she came up close and playfully nipped at our fingers, and he/she let us touch his/her on the beak. Almost makes me want to have birds as a pet!

And there was this white bird that could say, “Hello!” and something that sounded remotely Japanese (“Wakarimashta”, I think?). What a cool bird!

There’s this huge bird that seemed worrisome, at first (it was so big, it looked like it could kick our asses). But the bird actually came very close (about a couple of feet away) and let us take pictures of it – “I’m ready for my close up!”

In the afternoon, we watched the show I’m part of, while we ate my post-birthday treat (late lunch delivered from this BBQ place in Petron’s La Vista station … or is it Shell … Caltex?). Came home late in the evening, a little tired, but definitely well-rested and happy!

AND A VISIT TO THE AYALA MUSEUM …

Last Sunday, I visited the Ayala Museum together with Steph, Beckay, their mother, and Jakob. Steph’s invitation came at the right time, because I was actually planning to visit the Ayala Museum to view Juan Luna’s paintings. What can I say about the trip? It was fantastic. On the day we visited, there was an exhibit of gold artifacts from the 10th to the 13th century. Wow. Fabulous. Unfortunately, we couldn’t take pictures of the goodies inside the museum … but you should have seen the earrings! Awesome. So big! No wonder the Filipinos of old had lobes that literally drooped down to their shoulders! And the other pieces of jewelry … I don’t know how the craftsmen produced such beautiful and intricately designed jewelry using low-tech implements.

There was also this exhibit of embroidered “mestizo” garments (garments worn by “mestizos” in the country) back in the eighteenth/nineteenth century. Wow. The embroidery was so beautiful back then … and the garments were so tiny! There was a pair of embroidered pants/slacks for men on display … you’d think they’d be designed for a pre-teen girl! Such a small waist, such tiny legs … There were also exhibits featuring old vases and jars … but the exhibit I loved most were the paintings.

One of the floors in the museum displayed paintings by Luna, Amorsolo and Zobel. I loved looking at the Luna and Amorsolo paintings – especially the Luna ones (even if he did murder his wife and mother-in-law – did I get my history right?). Stand a couple of inches right next to a Luna painting, stare at it, and you feel like you’re in contact with history, or an ageless time. Some of the paintings seemed “kapos” in terms of paint (I wonder if Luna had his starving artist moments), but they remained beautiful, just the same. The Amorsolo paintings were very rich, the Zobel ones modern and moody (his cartoons were whimsical, though!). I love that the museum had a mini-representation of Zobel’s studio, and even had a spot featuring some of his old letters to friends – it somehow gives you a glimpse of Zobel, while he lived.

A visit to the museum makes me very happy … lots of mind candy there. Yet, there’s a lot to think about once you leave the museum. You kind of feel sad that some items on display in a museum are Filipino, and yet have to be borrowed from other museums in other countries, just so WE can view them (what, other countries take care of and appreciate something that’s supposed to be ours!). You marvel at the things Filipinos have been capable of – all this beauty and creativity – and yet, you can’t help but wonder why many of us have been reduced to begging on the streets, or lining up for hours for something so basic as rice. If anything, a visit to the museum is a lot like a wake-up call. A trip to the museum reminds you, as a Filipino, of what you were before, what you could be capable of … it shows you how far you’ve risen (or, in today’s times, sunk), and that the Filipino can be great again. This definitely won’t be my last time at the museum!

THE 'RED CARPET MASSACRE' GALLERY

2008-04-13T10:16:00.000-07:00

DURANIES: IN REVIEW ...

2008-04-13T10:00:00.000-07:00

Just as a recap, here are the photos that I took after Duran Duran's "Big Thing" tour concert at the Araneta Coliseum, oh, some twenty years ago ... the photos show (from left to right) Beckay, Olivs and Steph :)

What do I remember about this event? Well, as I took their picture, my fingers were still throbbing from the pain of holding onto a plastic/disposable lighter during "Save A Prayer" ... and I was still pining for an all-original band line-up ... I really just couldn't bear the fact that I had finished watching a concert of Duran Duran WITHOUT Andy AND Roger ... especially, Roger!

DURAN DURAN LIVE IN MANILA 2008: FINAL/CHAPTER FOUR – WILD BOYS ALWAYS SHINE!

2008-04-13T00:52:00.000-07:00

HERE AT LAST!

I tuned in to the late night news on our channel called “Saksi,” hoping I’d get to see some bit of news on the band’s arrival … what do you know, my wish came true! I can’t believe I did this, but I actually gave out a tiny shriek of delight (something like, EEK!), as I saw them arriving at our airport (or was it the hotel?).

The very first thing I did was notice how YOUNG they looked! (John, in his layered shirt look, hardly looked like he had hit forty!) Look ma, no wrinkles, at all! They didn’t look like the old farts that they appeared to be in their recent photos and videos. I thought, man, they either looked THAT good, or our cameramen and lightmen were brilliant! They strolled into the airport/hotel looking very casual, indeed – unless you were aware of who they were, you’d think they were just ordinary white men/tourists (though Roger looked like he was a little less ‘fair’ – he was more like, olive-skinned?). I couldn’t see a massive entourage, and what? Lugging their own luggage? Wow. I was very pleasantly surprised to see that. Nothing at all like the image in my head, where they would roll into a country, with their loads of assistants (and deadbeat hangers-on). Roger brought out his sunglasses (probably to shield his eyes from the lights?), as the others were interviewed – alas, the interview was cut short (probably because of the airtime). I did hear Nick say that they promised they would do their best to come up with a good show … Simon joined Nick then, but his reply wasn’t aired anymore (sigh). It was a miracle I got any sleep that night, at all!

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A VIEW TO A THRILL!

I spent the morning, working on a few personal/home-related errands, then it was time for a little dolling up. I finished early and had some free time (and a little extra money), so I thought I’d have a nice manicure/pedicure, and I had my hair blow-dried a bit. It’s an indulgence I rarely gave myself – this was something I reserved for special occasions – and THIS was a special occasion for me! The lady promised me my hair would remain STRAIGHT until ten pm, as long as it didn’t get wet … I thought to myself, hmmm, let’s see about that!

One thing that definitely wasn’t straight that day was my head – it wasn’t screwed on straight. To be honest? I couldn’t really think, at all! I had withdrawn enough money to finish a bank errand early, and still I forgot to drop by the bank! (To think, it was just a few feet away from the ATM and my car!) I bought two and a half dozen lanzones from a fruit vendor, and my payment was short by one hundred pesos! (I paid it in full today).

I drove to my friend Beckay’s house two-ish to get ready for the big event … and here’s another example of my mind being elsewhere. I had brought along a few tops to choose from (like I said, I needed to wear an outfit that was comfortable). The rest seemed too ordinary, Beckay said, but there was one outfit that stood out – it was a strapless, eggplant-colored top that was a birthday gift from one of my closest friends, Cecile. There was one hitch, though – in my brainless state, I had forgotten to bring along the appropriate underwear for it! Thankfully, I realized that there was a MacGyver-y trick to making sure the strapless strap wouldn’t reveal what shouldn’t be revealed (I never realized magic tape could function as a piece of underwear!). I wore the very comfortable, cool top together with some nice, flexible jeans (the better to hop around in), and brought along this nice, nifty pair of wedge shoes to wear during the concert. I wondered if there was any way in hell I would be able to hop around in wedges, and I actually thought twice about it, but, then, I thought, there’s only one way to find out!

I think my Duran Duran-induced brainless state was contagious, because Beckay missed a turn on the way to the Araneta Coliseum! Thankfully, she was the one who was driving (if I had been the one, I think I would have caused us to be late, haha!). We made it to Araneta Coliseum fairly quickly (no traffic, it’s a miracle!). Along the way, we saw a few heavily-tinted SUV-types on the road. Beckay and I half-joked, hey, what if the boys were inside one of those …

Beckay treated me to dinner, as she had promised. The meal was delicious! Pasta carbonara and some bruschetta (?), together with dalandan juice. As we tried to keep our thoughts focused on the wonderful food, we couldn’t help but play “Spot the Duranie” – we couldn’t help but notice these women, around our age, all looking like they had made themselves extra beautiful for the night. Betcha those are Duranies, Beckay remarked.

Stephanie, one of my best friends in high school, arrived just as soon as we finished having dinner. She had been given two lower box tickets to the concert (what a lucky girl!), and she had decided to come and watch the concert, together with her husband, Chris. Beckay quickly paid for their dinner, as well (we couldn’t wait to get out of there!), and we took off in the direction of the Araneta Coliseum … at last, at last!

I was a little disappointed that there weren’t any tour programs or posters available on sale at the entrance (Concert promoters, these are income-generating! Why don’t you sell these, anymore?). There was a tiny table where some Duran Duran CD’s were being sold – "Astronaut," "Greatest" … I bought a copy of the “Red Carpet Massacre” CD for Christine (fellow Duranie and new acquaintance). We then filled up these raffle forms from a nearby table – the people manning the table promised a two-night (?) hotel stay as a prize. Yeah, right, I thought to myself. Just the same, Beckay and I signed the stubs, and finally made our way inside The Big Dome.

INSIDE THE BIG DOME – WAITING, WAITING, WAITING!

Concerts can be very pricey in Manila, so it’s not surprising to see public figures up there in the front seat/VIP section. I didn’t get to see a lot of them that night, but I did see Arnold Clavio of “Saksi” in Row A (lucky guy!). I was so tempted to go up to him and say, “Excuse me, Mr. Clavio, you don’t know me, but we work in the same TV network! We even crossed paths near Studio One!” As if that would bump me and Beckay up to Row A, hahaha …

As Beckay and I waited for the coliseum to be filled up, we got into chatting with the three people in front of us. There was Salvador from Accenture (I soon found out he works with my friend/schoolmate from post-grad school, Irva), Nancy and her brother, Nelson. Nancy was such a big fan of Simon Le Bon, she even brought along this BIG streamer plastered with his younger self. One thing I can say – music is such an easy way to expand one’s social network. We were chatting and laughing in no time, at all! I told them, “Walang uuwi nang may boses!” (roughly translated – no one’s going to leave the concert with his/her voice intact!). At first, it was pretty worrisome how slowly the coliseum filled up.

At one point, we actually thought it was going to be a VERY EMPTY venue …. “Langaw” (fly), in local lingo. Thankfully, the people started coming in, just as the opening act began its three-song set.

And remember “Spot The Duranie”? Well, turns out we were right! The dolled-up ladies did show up in the front row area! There was even this guy who showed up in a Fedora (obviously a John fan). Some MTV Philippines hosts (I don’t know who they were) opened the show by introducing Sandwich, the opening act for the night.

Unfortunately for Sandwich, they were good, but not really appreciated by the audience. I felt so bad for them, I actually did a little yelling of acknowledgement – even though my true feelings were, get off the stage and let’s have Duran Duran! The others gave VERY lukewarm claps of acknowledgement (I doubt the others even clapped). I think Sandwich was a very poor choice as opening act. Promoters, an 80’s band like Duran Duran needs a local 80’s band to perform as the opening act! Your audience is hitting forty – hardly anyone of them knows or cares about Sandwich, okay? After the poor band left the stage, it was time for everyone to wait for THE BIG THING! Some of the crew began testing/checking the instruments … the stage began to smoke (literally), the lights came down, the music came on … and OH, MY! They’re here, they’re finally here!

THEY’RE HERE, THEY’RE FINALLY HERE!

It was such a long, agonizing intro, but pretty soon, I heard the first few notes of “The Valley” … oh, my God. We were screaming like hell! What can I say about the concert? Hardly anything, because my brain totally shut down once the concert began. It was sensory overload! There I was, with two different kinds of cameras (digital and cellphone), a set of binoculars … I couldn’t decide between taking photos, ogling Roger on the binoculars, or yelling/screaming my guts out and hopping like a mad rabbit! And then, there’s that big projector showing the boys up close! Ah, the choices, the choices!

What can I say about the boys? Well, I’m happy to report that the cameras do not do them justice, at all! For a bunch of old farts (and I mean this in a loving way!), they are so, so well-preserved! Beckay was ecstatic that John looked wrinkle-free (and look, no bald spot!) – I think she entered a state of absolute Juan nirvana, because she kept yelling, “I love him, I love him, I love him!” Simon looked pretty good, as well! No traces of pudginess, at all! Nick looked like Dorian Gray (so cool and perfect, it makes me wonder if he might be a vampire that sucks blood to remain young). As for my Roger … oh, wow. I had such a good seat, that I was literally right across him! About twenty feet away from him, with such great lighting, I could see every move he made – and with my handy dandy binoculars, I could see he looked wonderful! I really don’t understand why his recent photos and videos make him look like life (or a lot of trucks) barreled down on him. He had tiny bags around the eyes, but that was all! In jest, I have usually referred to Roger as the “Ambidextrous sex god” – that night, I realized, hey, he deserves that title!

Thankfully (more for the boys’ sake, than mine), the set list was greatly modified. Compared to the other set lists, the Manila set list was a mix of the old and the new. The Electro-set was dropped (I would have wanted to see it, but I think it was a wise move – the crowd might not have liked it). As for the music – what can I say – they were brilliant! “Arena” sucks, compared to their performance in Araneta! They were obviously well-rehearsed, they were very slick and tight, all throughout the show. They obviously love their work! I love, love, love Roger and John – they were so good with their rhythm! Roger’s so precise, he’s like a human metronome – and yet, his drumming is so, so intense! As for John, ah, you just gotta love the way he plays those bass lines. Very, very cool and funky! Simon can’t twirl around like the Tazmanian devil or do the high jump anymore, but he was a masterful lead, keeping the audience up on their feet for most of the night. I think his voice faltered somewhere near the end (I can’t remember which song), but it was not really that noticeable. There were slight references to past performances, which was also great – when he struck that crucified post during “New Religion,” or when he used the tambourine (was it during “The Reflex”?), or when he played the guitar during “Save A Prayer”.

The band’s support team was very good at what they did, and they managed to get a rise of the audience. Sadly, though, it was clear that the audience was not so familiar with the songs off “Red Carpet Massacre”. It was a good thing I got to like the “Red Carpet Massacre” selections, so I really enjoyed hearing them played live (one thing I can say about “Red Carpet Massacre” – the songs sound a hell of a lot better live, with Roger’s drumming!). Beckay and I, together with some other old farts in the audience remained up and dancing throughout those songs, but unfortunately, the others didn’t enjoy them as much, and just sat down. I couldn’t help but look at Simon and John (especially John), as they performed “Tempted” – I wondered how they felt then. I hope they didn’t feel that disappointed. Give the songs more time, boys. They’ll be appreciated by your audience, just give them time to adjust. As for Roger, well, he was too focused on his drumming that I really couldn’t wonder what he thought or felt – he basically held that focused, serious expression on his face through most of the night. But there were those magical, lovely moments when I saw him with that interesting smile on his face, as he seemed to take in a view of the audience. I wonder if it was warm acknowledgement, or satisfaction that he felt … but I swear, I was so, so happy whenever I saw him light up like that. I really wish he did that because he was searching for the girl in the audience who kept on yelling “Roger Rocks!” (That would be yours truly!) Truth be told, Beckay and I were up on our feet, dancing and yelling all throughout the concert, except during the time when the song “Falling Down” came on. We really did fall down – we were exhausted! But we bravely stood up, danced, yelled, and made absolute asses of ourselves (on wedges and high-heeled sandals, at that!), all for the love of Duran Duran. Who cares if the others in the audience sat down for the “Red Carpet Massacre” songs? We danced and yelled, anyway! Hey, we even managed to do the dance from the “Planet Earth” video! I was even willing to jump off any cliff (the way Simon did in the video), but that would’ve been too much excitement for me … Love, love, love the disco-ish “Planet Earth” rendition (great intro!), love, love, love “Girls On Film” … Roger’s solo had him playing a hard, pound-it-into-your-skull, fiesta-like, Latin beat (It actually reminded me of the Ati-Atihan festival!)… John’s solo was very, very long and funky … love, love, love the drum intro during “The Reflex”, love, love, love “Wild Boys!” Ah, the drumming! I lost count of Roger’s deft drumstick twirling at the third count (I think my brain couldn’t handle the thrill of it, and just shut down). The slow numbers were equally fabulous – and though the song “Ordinary World” doesn’t quite match with Simon’s introduction of it, I was very touched with his words. He said something like, he and the other band members read the papers and are aware of what’s going on in the world, and he said something like, never lose hope. It was a good message for all of us in the audience – what with all the difficulties our nation has been going through. On a lighter note, it’s great to hear that, hey, the boys are well-versed in human/global affairs! And to think, they’re perceived as shallow … Beckay and I were so fearful the audience wouldn’t receive them warmly, at all (and that we would be the only ones screaming) – thankfully, that wasn’t so. I think the band was very pleased at the reception they received that John said something like, he never thought we could make that much noise (well, John, you made us wait for twenty years! What took you so long?!). And that they should come back more often (to that, I say, yes, and make it quick! If you make us wait for another twenty years, we might end up dragging our walkers to the venue!)

After one encore set (“White Lines”/”Rio”), the band said their final goodbyes. Oh, my God. Roger went up to the front of the stage, and handed over his drumsticks to a couple of people in the audience – lucky gits. Roger, I’m in Row I – I’ve been waving my drumstick in the air all throughout, throw one MY way, will you? But alas, my wish wasn’t going to come true that night. Next time, I MUST do what the rest in the audience did (they rushed to the front of the stage!).

THE VERDICT

What’s the overall rating for Duran Duran’s concert in Manila? If ten is the highest rating, I would give it 9.95. All in all, I love, love, love, love the concert!

UNFULFILLED WISHES

The set was pared down, so I think the concert ended after about two hours. It was worth every centavo of the four thousand, four hundred and twenty bucks I paid for … though I still wish the concert had these: More songs, of course! Why, oh, why, wasn’t “Careless Memories” made part of the set? I also wish these songs were played – “Serious,” “Nice,” “Is There Something I Should Know,” “Hold Back The Rain,” “New Moon On Monday,” “Union Of The Snake,” “The Chauffeur”. A nicer concert backdrop – I was surprised that all the boys had was this image (of high-rise buildings?) for a concert backdrop – where are the fancy, video images that are projected on-screen? Roger’s electronic drums – Roger’s drumming was flawless, but I wish he brought along his electronic drums – he’s got this great way of mixing the basic, hard drums with the tech-y electronic ones – and where the hell were the percussions?

AFTER(GLOW) AFTER THE CONCERT

I also tried my best to ask for a way backstage – but alas, that wasn’t going to materialize, either. Access was only granted to the sponsors – which makes me fume, honestly. Hey! We’re paying patrons! (I bet some of your meet-and-greeters didn’t even have to work/pay for the concert). Don’t we deserve a meet and greet, too?

I did manage to wait by the coliseum’s South Exit (where their vehicles exited). Simon was kind (brave?) enough to bring his window down and say thanks to the waiting crowd, but the rest just kept theirs closed. Oh, well. At least, I got within a few feet of them. Here’s the funny thing – they didn’t ride any of those luxury vehicles, they rode in heavily-tinted SUV types! Hmmm – Beckay and I were right, after all! An ambulance was part of the convoy – oh, that made me wish none of them were in it. Because if there was anyone who could have been transported by ambulance, that would be Roger – wow, all that pounding! I only hopped and danced around for two hours, and I had a bad knee the following day! Reconsider hopping around in wedge shoes!

Feeling very, very thirsty, Beckay and I drove to the Shangri-La Hotel area (where the boys are billeted!), and had a couple of very cold drinks at Starbucks, as we contemplated our recently concluded “date” with our all-time favorite band. I’m happy to report that Beckay was equally satisfied with the concert … well worth every centavo we painfully took out of our pockets! We couldn’t stop sighing (talk about satisfaction!). A couple of days later, I got to chat with her sister/my best friend, Steph – and what do you know? She lost her voice from all the screaming she made, and she did dance like the devil, too! Hmmm. Turns out Steph has been hooked back into Duran’s planet, after all! It’s been three days since – I’m back in the real world – I miss the boys like hell – I wish I could replay the event in my head – I miss Roger! – I am still grinning like a schoolgirl – talk about afterglow!

Nancy, Salvador – let’s keep in touch! Remember the photo and video exchange, okay?! This concert marks the fulfillment of one big wish I’ve had – it’s a little sad to see it come to an end – but now I can’t wait for the next opportunity to see them live. Come back soon, boys! Or, we’ll come over wherever you are to see you. Keep on playing and making good music! As for my Roger – ROGER ROCKS!!!!!

THE MANILA SET LIST (AS I VAGUELY REMEMBER IT)

I’m sure there are a few errors on this list, but this is how I seem to recall the set being played out …

The Valley
Skin Divers
Hungry Like The Wolf
Red Carpet Massacre
Planet Earth
New Religion
Nite Runner
Tempted
Girls On Film
The Reflex
A View To A Kill
Falling Down
Save A Prayer
Ordinary World
Notorious
Sunrise
The Wild Boys

Encore: White Lines Rio

DURAN DURAN LIVE IN MANILA 2008: CHAPTER THREE - THE LONG, WINDING ROAD LEADING TO ‘RED CARPET MASSACRE’

2008-04-11T07:45:00.000-07:00

INDOCTRINATION VS. DEADENING THE PAIN

The final two weeks prior to the concert involved what me and my friend Beckay call … INDOCTRINATION. What is ‘Indoctrination’ all about? It’s simply immersing one’s self in the sound that is Duran Duran. In my case, it involved listening to their songs/watching their videos in an endless loop.

Of course, it’s (to use Martha Stewart’s famous line) a ‘good thing’ to listen to Duran Duran’s songs that you like. But to listen to the ‘misses’ … oh, wow. That was pretty tough. I call the experience, ‘Deadening myself to the pain’. And by ‘pain’ I was referring to ‘Red Carpet Massacre’. Talk about irony?

The first time I ever played the ‘Red Carpet Massacre’ CD, I literally had a headache. Honestly, the album generated quite a lot of raving rants from me. But I was watching the ‘Red Carpet Massacre’ tour! I decided, I had to give the CD a second chance. So, I did.

Beckay said I was probably deluding myself … but, hey, what do you know? As the date of the concert approached, I could already honestly say, hey, ‘Red Carpet Massacre’ is actually good. Not perfect, not brilliant, but good and danceable. I could finally listen to the songs without breaking out in a litany of swear words, so that was a huge improvement! I was actually LOOKING forward to hearing them played live!

As for their videos, all I had to do was watch ‘Live From London’ and ‘Live At Wembley’ to feel my excitement (and my blood pressure!) rising! I wondered, would I need to take a double dosage of my blood pressure medication?

A CLOSE CALL?

Laugh if you like, but believe it or not, I actually PRAYED for MORE THAN A YEAR for this concert! Admittedly, it’s a shallow request, compared to praying for something like an end to global warming or poverty … but this was something I really, REALLY wanted.

Honestly, it seemed like a far-fetched possibility – what are the chances they’d return to Manila, anyway? If I remember correctly, the last time they were here (20 years ago), somebody from the media supposedly pinched John Taylor’s behind … who would want to return to a country whose media people pinched celebrity’s butts? And for AGES, Duran Duran by-passed Manila whenever they went on tour. They bypassed Manila during the ‘Astronaut’ tour, what would make them come NOW?

But hope springs eternal! I vowed to myself that I would watch them perform live – FRONT SEAT! – with my friends – either here in Manila, or the closest Asian country. And I was dead-serious about it. I don’t know how or why, but I vowed I would do it!

And I must have rattled God’s ears that hard, because the universe began cooperating with me! At the start of 2008, I began hearing all those rumors about Duran Duran performing in Manila (sometime March or April). Then, came those ACTUAL tour dates – Thailand or Malaysia on the 8th, then Hong Kong on the 12th… I began thinking, oh, wow – that’s just a very short plane ride away from Manila! What were the odds, what were the odds … I began having a very strange feeling that they might show up along Manila’s shores, after all.

So, once they did, I immediately bought the tickets, and I asked (BEGGED) my headwriter to give me the day off, as part of my vacation. Thankfully, he said yes …

But then came the writing contest …

A week before the actual date of the concert, my headwriter gave his newbies another writing opportunity … immediately, the announcement sounded off warning bells in my head … what about the concert????

I have not had a decent vacation in four years, and I was dying to finally get some actual time off to just do brainless, non-productive fun. This included the concert, of course. I was beginning to wonder if this was going to get in the way …

But an opportunity is an opportunity (I don’t think I would be able to forgive myself if I let something like this slide, just like that) – so I took the chance, even if the only things that filled my head were all things Duran Duran. How I won, I don’t know … but all I kept thinking after ‘winning’ was, oh, my God. What happens to me and the concert NOW?!

Missing the concert? Somebody had better just kill me, it would be a less painful end for me!

Two days before the concert, I was in a meeting and slowly wondering if I should now jump out of my headwriter’s condo on the sixteenth floor, because it was beginning to seem like, oh, damn, I’ve got this deadline that will stop me from watching the concert! My headwriter actually asked me if I was alright … I wouldn’t be surprised if it seemed to him that I looked like I wanted to die then! Because I really felt like I would rather DIE than miss that concert!

And I was so desperate that I believe I actually said it out loud, too! I said it out loud with a smile on my face, but I'm pretty sure it was obvious to everyone it was, give me the concert, or give me death!

Thankfully, THANKFULLY, my boss and his team were very understanding – my concert date was saved, thanks to their generosity! Thank God for a miracle!

GIMME A WRISTBAND … ER, BACKSTAGE PASS!

Desperation drives a person to do things one wouldn’t normally do … in my case, I actually texted and called several people, in hopes of obtaining backstage passes for myself and for Beckay. Alas, my contacts weren’t able to produce those elusive passes …

Now I regret not purchasing that $35 subscription that allows me to ‘meet and greet’ the band … next time they come over, I’ll be ready!

CONGRATULATIONS TO THE BRIDE … OOPS! THE DURANIE!

I think it’s really funny and so, so great that my friends and co-workers were very excited for me, now that I was REALLY, TRULY, FINALLY going to watch the concert. I even had some friends and co-workers text me or e-mail me, just to say, have fun at the concert!

FINAL PREPARATIONS

With the concert less than forty-eight hours away, all I really had to do was get my bag ready and look my smashing best … I stopped listening to the band’s songs, just to keep things ‘fresh’.

Oh, and do some research.

I couldn’t stop myself from checking out the set lists in their latest gigs (and checking out their videos in You Tube). I was thrilled that they had a two and a half hour set list – but an Electronica set? I wasn’t so sure that would be something the Filipino audience would like. Unless you’re a true blue Duranie, you would care about the hits, and only the hits. An Electronica set, as good as it might sound, was a recipe for disaster.

And you can’t have the band perform ALL of the songs from ‘Red Carpet Massacre’ first! That’s doomsday!

The promoters had better give good advice to the band and tell them to adjust the set list, or they’re screwed, I thought!

DURAN DURAN LIVE IN MANILA 2008: CHAPTER TWO – PREPARING FOR THE BIG EVENT

2008-03-30T10:26:00.000-07:00

I love music, and one of my all-time favorite activities is attending concerts. I think the very first concert I ever saw was an afternoon show by this seventies band called the Hotdog (one of the proponents of the Manila sound, if I’m not mistaken). I was nine years old back then, and Hotdog performed in the gymnasium of my old school (Siena College). I know I was able to get the band members’ autographs – too bad I lost them, that would probably be such a collectible now …

My parents accompanied me to my very first, authentic NIGHT concerts – there was Donny and Marie Osmond back in the late seventies or early eighties (I think Donny was only 21 back then, and Marie, 19? They’re hitting fifty now, gulp!). Then came the back-to-back concert/showdown between disco band VST & Company and Hotdog (again). A few years after that, there was The Jets’ concert in Araneta Coliseum in the late eighties.

From the time I hit college, up until the early nineties, my social life (not that I truly had one) was filled with concerts, concerts, concerts. My constant concert dates were either my Dad, Olivs (who loves concerts as much as I do), one of my best friends in high school, or my college friends. Through the years, the artists I’ve seen in concert include Corey Hart, Bananarama, Cyndi Lauper, Patti Austin, James Ingram, Kenny Loggins, Paula Abdul, Bananarama, Barry Manilow, Sergio Mendes, Stephen Bishop, Kenny Rankin, Kalapana, Roberta Flack, Michael Bolton, Hall & Oates, David Benoit, Martin Nievera, Side A, Gary Valenciano and Regine Velasquez.

There was a very long dry-spell for concert-viewing in the mid-nineties, which extended all the way until 2006/2007. It was a classic case of the "No money, no time" syndrome - whenever I had money, I had no time for the concerts. When I had the time, I had no money! I missed a lot of artists' concerts then - China Crisis, The Lotus Eaters, Josh Groban, Michael Buble ... heart-breaking.

But then came a new job, some extra spending money, INXS, and my concert famine ended. Thanks to the strong peso, it seems that promoters can bring artists over for concerts once more – so far, we’ve got artists like Maroon 5, Beyonce and Incubus coming over … signs are strong that 2008 and will be a good year for concerts by foreign artists.

I love every concert I have ever attended, and all of these artists are special to me (though I’m almost tempted to remove Martin Nievera from the list, because I still can’t forget how he practically monopolized Kenny Loggins’ attention away from me and my group – I mean, you just don’t do that when the guy isn’t done speaking to his other fans, okay? Very rude!)

But I digress. As I was saying, I love every concert I ever attended, and all of these artists are special to me. But I think nothing will compare to Duran Duran’s upcoming concert – why? Because I have never (and I mean, NEVER) prepared for a concert, the way I’m doing so now, for this gig. I can only say that getting ready for Duran Duran’s “Red Carpet Massacre” concert tour in Manila is entirely an event in itself – oh, the things to do!

Step 1: Beg your headwriter for a day off - I felt really heartless, but I knew I just had to do it. The concert’s going to be held on a weekday, which means there could be a chance there might be a meeting – so I just had to really ask my headwriter for permission that Saturday night, even if I knew he was close to dropping from exhaustion after our grueling meeting. Thankfully, my headwriter is a music lover like me, and he knows I’ll do anything for a Duran Duran concert, so he said ‘yes’. One obstacle down …

Step 2: Pick up the tickets on reservation from SM’s Ticketnet - Did I mention there was a downpour? I almost wondered if it was God’s way of testing my resolve; but it rained like hell that afternoon, the day I was scheduled to pick up the tickets. I was supposed to pick Beckay up from Katipunan, so we could both go to SM’s Ticketnet for the actual ticket purchase. I heard Mass at 4 pm, made my way towards the exit shortly before 5 pm, just before everyone said, “Thanks be to God’ because the clouds were beginning to look really dark … by the time I hit the road, the rain fell hard. Oh, wow. I couldn’t even get out of my car to ring the doorbell! It took at least fifteen minutes before someone could even open the gates for me (the rain had turned into a downpour). By the time Beckay and I left the house in Katipunan, I was sporting the “wet look” (except that I didn’t look sexy, at all!). My hair and body were wet, my shirt and jeans were wet (of all the days I chose to wear a sleeveless shirt, I had to choose Downpour Sunday), even my slippers were sloshing wet!

Oh, Rogelio, oh, Juan, if you only knew what kind of horrible weather Beckay and I had to go through to get those concert tickets …

Beckay and I couldn’t convince her sister/my best friend, Steph, to come with us, which is a shame, since she attended the “Big Thing” concert with us back in the late eighties. Alas for the band, my friend Steph has ditched Nick as her love and replaced him with her real life princes (her husband Chris, and her son/my godson, Jakob). Also, she’d rather have a nice, new pair of shoes than front seat tickets (Hmmm! So, there’s a little Nick Rhodes left in my best friend, after all?).

We swam, er, drove all the way to SM. At the Ticketnet area, we were so surprised to see that the closest seats we could gain access to were either in Row H and I. I was so sure we could find seats in closer rows, but apparently the other rows had already been bought/reserved (for the show’s VIP’s, most probably, somebody suggested). Okay. Though, I'm thinking - hey, we're paying patrons, give us the Row A tickets! Just the same, we stuck it out with Row I. After a trip to the ATM, Beckay and I were collectively down eight thousand or so pesos.

This concert had better be good, Beckay kept saying, or I’ll never let you live this down!

Gulp!

Step 3: Clip here, clip there, clip everywhere – I can’t believe I’ll admit to this, but I’m actually having newspapers delivered to our home, so I can check if there’s any news or print ad on the concert (yes, I’m shallow that way!). I’ve even gone so far as ask our neighbors for THEIR newspapers (my mom is in on the game, too, as I’ve asked her to ask her amigas for their newspapers). Even our sunny newspaper delivery guy is involved! I leave him notes taped on the gate to tell him what issues he needs to bring me (needless to say, these back issues will have Duran Duran inside!). Even my friends have read my mind (and my phone text pleadings) and are clipping their own magazines and newspapers for me! Yes, it’s mad and obsessive, but I do have a "Jose Rizal complex" – I have a tendency to archive everything, and that extends to concerts. I want to prepare a scrapbook of this event, so that when I’m old and grey, I can remember how crazy I was…

Step 4: Makeover Madness – Any concert requires a lot of comfort for maximum pleasure. You can’t hop up and down during a concert wearing stilettos and a gown (or can you?), you’ve got to wear comfortable clothes and shoes. You can’t have hair falling everywhere, you can’t be sweating like a pig (at least, not until the music and the dancing begin).

But this is a Duran Duran concert! It’s a special event! So, the duds have to comfortable AND look smashing! You mustn’t give the young ones (who are always sooo smug because of their age) out there a reason to hurl more age-related insults at the band and their audience. Show them the truth - that youth is overrated … so there!

The steps to a great concert makeover?

A new haircut!
Wear a comfortable summer-y top and jeans
Wear stylish shoes one can hop and jump around in
A great facial (actually, I just put that in as an excuse to visit the dermatologist!)
Wear light makeup (it will vanish once the sweat comes in, but you’ll look shine-free for at least five minutes)

A Few More Things To Do - Only two weeks left before the concert, and these are the remaining steps:

Find a way to obtain copies of concert posters and backstage passes (pray for another miracle!)

Try to have the VCR fixed, so you can tape their TV appearances

Pray, pray, pray – that the concert REALLY pushes through, and that there are no other obstacles that will prevent my/our attendance.

Take your blood pressure medication!

Have a good night’s rest/lots of sleep prior to the concert – You’ll need energy to scream your guts out during the concert

Remember to bring – The concert ticket (but of course!), and a CD and a pen (in case a miracle happens, and you actually get to meet them for autographs)

Hope for a wonderful set list, and an exceptional Duran Duran performance.

Make sure you bring your illuminated cellphone out during “Save A Prayer”, and/or “Ordinary World and” “Falling Down”.

Sing, sing, sing!

Dance, dance, dance!

Yell, “Roger rocks!” (and hope it won’t be heard as “Roger sucks!”).

Yell, “Play that f***ing bass, John!”

Yell your guts out.

Wave a drumstick and hope Roger will pass on one of his to you (either that or bring a gigantic net to reel that sucker in!).

Don’t pass out if you actually get to meet any of the band members. (If you do, make sure someone can catch you – preferably Roger, haha!)

Make this one of the best concerts of your life!

DURAN DURAN LIVE IN MANILA 2008: CHAPTER ONE - BE STILL MY PALPITATING HEART!

2008-03-10T10:53:00.000-07:00

A lot of things have happened in my life, but through it all, some things have remained pretty constant – my poor sense of direction (I can drive TO a place, but I always get lost on my way back home), my fat cells (they never listen whenever I tell them to get lost and stay lost), my junk-itis (I never seem to run out of opportunities to turn my office into a warehouse of paper, paper, paper) …

In terms of music, as much as I appreciate today’s music, I have remained fairly rooted in the songs of my childhood – the sixties (with the Beatles), the seventies (from Abba to Barry Manilow, the Doobie Brothers, Michael McDonald, Kenny Loggins …). But I have a special fondness and appreciation for the music(ians) of my teenage years. And if my friends and co-workers know me well at all, they will say that I have a crazy, unending fondness – no, love! – obsession? – for the New Romantics of the Eighties – the Wild Boys! – no other than the British band, Duran Duran.

I remember reading about Duran Duran in a now-defunct magazine called TV Times. I was in grade five (or was it six?), and reading an article on Princess Diana, who was supposedly a fan of this band called Duran Duran. Apparently, Princess Diana was not pleased when someone from the band’s fan club gifted her with a club membership. The next time I heard about them, I was in first or second year high school – the song called “Hungry Like The Wolf” played in this FM station called 99.5 RT. I remember saying to myself, “Oh! So THIS is Duran Duran!” I remember wondering what they looked like – I actually conjured an image of the band looking like a bunch of ZZ Tops. Middle-aged, bearded men with no sex appeal, at all!

Then came that fateful afternoon when I watched the Duran Duran Video album for the first time with my friend/neighbor, Kathy, and her siblings. I don’t think their father (Tito Ben) let us watch “Girls On Film” – but I remember the screaming. Oh, the screaming! I already had a few teenage crushes by then (Rick Springfield, John Stamos, William Katt, Pierce Brosnan, David Hasselhoff … the list goes on and on!) – but no one, and I mean NO ONE activated my female teenage hormones the way the members of Duran Duran did!

I immediately fell “in love” with the drummer, Roger Taylor – I can’t say if it was the hair (blue-black), the “personality” (strong, silent type), the looks (Macho, plus he seemed like the only straight one in the bunch!), or the drumming (G-R-E-A-T) – I guess, it was all of those things … that, combined with the cuteness of the other members, plus their great sound, did it for me. I was hooked! I was what others would call a “Duranie”. (Is it one “n” or two???)

As a Duranie, I wore out my “Rio” and “Seven And The Ragged Tiger” cassette tapes – I can still remember listening to “Hold Back The Rain” and “New Religion” in an endless loop as I reviewed for my Biology exams (my good old Walkman certainly kept me up as Roger pounded his drums, in unison with my memorization work for Biology - Mitosis! – see, even now I remember what I memorized back then!).

I was among the throng of Maryknollers who “Ooh”-ed and “Aah”-ed over them in those good old teen magazines, Tiger Beat and Bop (are those magazines still in circulation?). And I can’t forget those very lucky classmates of mine who owned those magazines AND even the band-related books (The Duranies with the books and magazines were goddesses back then!). Some of my classmates even “wore” their hair like John or Roger (streaked with color, as was the fad of the day back then). As for me, I was content sighing or screaming with my friends Steph and Olivs, as we pored over Steph’s Japanese Duran Duran magazines.

I can even remember the day when I read the article in a teen magazine about Roger’s wedding to his (now first) wife, Giovanna – for someone who was supposedly just a teenage crush, he certainly crushed my heart at that moment!

Then came that terrible moment at Live Aid (Simon’s voice gave out during “View To A Kill”) … and finally, the band’s break-up, beginning with … aargh! … Roger’s abdication of his role in the band as drummer. I never knew if the rumors were true (that he had suffered a nervous breakdown, and had decided to live on the farm) … just the same, I was heart-broken. I remember walking around in SM North Edsa and hearing “Notorious” being played on the PA System, and silently swearing, “Shit! That’s not Roger on the drums!”

Duran Duran came to Manila in the late ‘80s (as part of the “Big Thing” tour), and even if Andy had also left the band by then, I couldn’t bear the fact that Roger wasn’t touring with them. It was supposed to be a fun event, with me watching the concert with fellow Duranies and friends (Steph, Olivs, and Steph’s sister, Beckay – oops, Becky pala!) … but all I kept saying/thinking was, “Shit! I wish Roger were here! I wish Roger were here!” …

For some time, my love for the band’s music was relegated to the background, as I grew to love other bands and their music (I was/am a big fan of the songs and bands of XB 102). I must admit that for a time, I stopped appreciating Simon’s lyrics (blame it on that song, the Re-ple-ple-ple-ple-ple-plex!). But I never, NEVER stopped wondering about my all-time favorite drummer, Roger.

Twenty years down the line, I realize I’m still a certified Duranie – I forgot to tell you that I still have my Duran Duran scrapbooks (all vintage and mostly original!) – and I’m absolutely jubilant that Roger is back in the band! (I was also jubilant about Andy’s return, but he’s out of the band now, so …)

So what if the band members are old farts in their forties now (for a bunch of old farts, they’re fabulous! Truly deserving of the nick “The Fab Five”!) – if I call them Gurang Gurang, it’s just in jest – I’m happy (relieved?!) they’ve aged pretty well, (actually, Nick makes me wonder if he’s Dorian Gray in disguise!). I’m even happier that their playing has improved tremendously. “Arena” now sounds pathetic compared to “Live From London”. These men know how to work a crowd! And the way they play now shows they take their work/music seriously now, more than ever. And I’m glad the fans are singing to their music now, and not just screaming because they find the boys (now men) cute.

And yes, I am still “in love” with the drummer, go figure! Why that’s so, I’ll never know! Some people say I’ll totally forget him when I get married to someone who’s actually “real” … I can’t even explain why he remains a “crush” to this day, and is still my epitome of “maleness” (it must be akin to imprinting – as a duck remains attached to its mother figure, so a hopeless romantic remains pathetically “in crush” over her teenage idol?) Anyway, who cares? I have always loved drummers in bands (nothing like a good beat to make one’s day) – there’s Adam in U2, Jon in INXS … but I love Roger, most of all! So there!

I’m still not happy about “Red Carpet Massacre,” (Roger’s drumming is so, so absent in the CD – sacrilege!) but I’ll forgive the band, because they’re coming to Manila this April … and this is the part where I go,

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! Be still, my palpitating heart!

It’s still disappointing that the band will be performing without Andy, but I’ll forgive that. I’ll even forgive Roger’s disappearance for more than twenty years, and his marriage to his second wife (sigh!) … I can’t wait to see my favorite drummer and my all-time favorite band, in concert on April 10.

I may have used all (and I mean, ALL!) of my emergency spending money on a front seat ticket, but I’m fine with that! Hopefully, there won’t be any man-made or natural calamities before then, and that my headwriter remembers I begged him to give me this free time, as I’ll be on vacation on this wonderful day! I won’t stop praying until this moment arrives … And when that moment arrives, I’ll remember to take my blood pressure medication and hope to God my palpitating heart won’t give out on me! I can’t wait to make an absolute ass of myself (for the amount of money I spent on two hours of entertainment, this had better be worth every centavo!), I can’t wait to say, “Play that f***ing bass, John!” and I can’t wait to sing along to the band’s songs (hits AND misses) and I can’t wait to yell my guts out once Roger pounds on those drums of his --- you can bang my (ear) drums, anytime, Roger my love, I’ll be waiting for you! And I’ll be mentally wishing for one of your drumsticks to be flung my/Becky’s way! Throw one towards Row I – I’ll be the curvy (?!) girl near the aisle, looking like she’s about to pass out, hahaha!

Hay, if only I could have better seats (Row A!), and backstage passes! (Smart and Globe kaya? I wonder if I can use my “connections”!)

In the meantime, the Duran Duran countdown begins! I can’t wait, I can’t wait!

Duran Duran's Red Carpet Massacre CD

2007-11-25T21:54:00.000-08:00

Okay, so hindi ko rin matiis na hindi bumili ng kopya ng “Red Carpet Massacre,” iyong latest CD ng Gurang Gurang, este Duran Duran. Natukso rin ako ng kanyang budget-friendly price na P355, though, technically e dapat hintayin ko ang kopya ng kanilang de luxe version (iyong may DVD ng latest video/s nila) mula sa isang bagong kakilala mula sa US (hello, Michael!).

Dahil mixed ang reviews para sa CD from the various internet critics, lalo kong hindi matiis ang pagbili, so I could really judge for myself kung ano nga ba ang nilalaman ng bagong CD ng mga paborito kong Gurangs. So, kagabi, mula yata alas 8:30 ng gabi hanggang mga alas 4 ay endless loop ang “Red Carpet Massacre” CD sa aking player. At ang aking feeling-music-reviewer verdict ay … Nyeh, puwede na. But bordering towards disappointing.

Ang ganda-ganda pa naman ng review niya from this guy in Orlando Weekly (http://www.orlandoweekly.com/music/review.asp?rid=13291), who said, mayroon daw “car crash immediacy”, “fuck-off decadence” ang CD, at mayroon pang bonus na “visceral” and “unapologetic” sound since “Wild Boys”! Sino ba naman ang hindi mate-tempt bumili ng CD, ‘di ba?

Pero ako, ewan ko, ha. Hanggang sa ngayon ay hinihintay ko pa ring makita iyong mga bagay na binanggit niya. Ang nakikita ko pa lang kasi ay ang “car crash” (imbes na “car crash immediacy”) at ang nararamdaman ko towards the CD ay “fuck” (imbes na “fuck off decadence”), at nasaan ang “visceral” and unapologetic sound?

I am totally for collaborative work and experimentation, dahil tingin ko, hindi magsu-survive ang isang eighties band tulad ng Duran Duran sa 21st century, kung magsti-stick sila sa old sound nila. Dapat, mix of the old and the new! Kaya maganda na rin siguro na nakipag-collaborate sila kina Justin Timberlake at Timbaland. Pero naman! ‘Di ba, ang collaboration e hindi naman ibig sabihin e sasapian sila? Josko, Duran Duran nga ba ang pinakikinggan ko? E, bakit parang Depeche Mode ang naaalala ko? At bakit parang gusto kong uminom ng Advil?!

In fairness to Nick Rhodes, mukhang pinagdusahan niya nang husto ang CD na ito, dahil puro tunog-Meralco (meaning, puro artificial/synth-generated sounds) ang naririnig ko. Sabi siguro niya kay Andy Taylor, who used to call him “One Finger Wonder,” “O, sinong one-finger wonder ngayon? Unggoy!” As in, nalulunod sa synth sounds ang CD! Feeling Liberace siguro sa CD si Master Nick James Bates, este Rhodes dito.

Pero, where the hell is my Roger? Habang pinakikinggan ko ang CD na ito e, I kept saying to myself, “Roger, where art thou?” I suppose it’s a tribute to his skill na ibinagay niya ang pagda-drums niya sa overall sound ng CD (hindi nga naman siguro bagay ang paghahataw ng cymbals kapag namamamayani ang synth sounds ni Nick), pero wala kasi siyang “moment” dito, e! Kulang na lang e isipin ko, teka, teka, teka. Ikaw nga ba ay nasa album na ito? Hindi kita marinig at maramdaman, e ang laking bagay ng rhythm section sa pagbuo ng Duran Duran sound. Mapapatawad na kita at hindi ako ang pinakasalan mo (for now, hahahahaha), at patatawarin kita na nagha-honeymoon ka noong ginagawa ang CD na ito, pero nagparamdam ka naman sana! Sorry, Roger my love, pero hindi kita halos maramdaman sa CD na ito. Kaya, hayan, tunog lata tuloy through most of the CD!

And sorry, guys, iba talaga ang tunog ninyo kapag nandiyan si Andy Taylor. Kaya, Andy, ikaw ang dapat sisihin para sa CD na ito! Ba’t ka kasi nagpaka-demonyito na naman! Ayan, tingnan mo ang nangyari sa CD nila, wala ka pang career!

Si Simon naman, parang si Madonna, na noong nagsisimula e ang swangit ng boses, pero gumaganda habang gumugurang (buti na lang). As for John’s bass-playing, pasalamat na lang ako at naririnig at nararamdaman ko ang bass playing niya. Dahil kung wala pa iyong bass-playing niya ay baka ibinalibag ko na ito sa garbage can!

Hindi ko mataypan ang first cut ng album nila (“The Valley”), but at least may glimmer ng presence ni Roger.

Iyong second cut, iyong title cut … ay, josko. Tamang-tama ang title, “Red Carpet Massacre,” dahil tunog mi-nassacre talaga! Guys, what the hell were you thinking when you came up with the music for this song? Sumakit ang ulo ko, literally! Muntik ko nang ibalabag ang CD noong narinig ko ito.

Pasalamat naman at gumanda sa third cut (“Nite Runner”) na collaboration nila with Justin Timberlake and Timbaland. Ganda ng drums dito, at very catchy naman. If they want to make it back to the charts, siguro may pag-asa sila rito. At least, tunog 21st century. At medyo mahalay ang dating (ako, I get images of making out in an alley here, not that I’ve ever done anything like that, ha – basta, mahalay nga kasi ang dating, e!).

Iyong fourth cut, na madalas nilang i-promote, iyong “Falling Down,” puwede rin sigurong pumasok sa charts. Maganda naman ang pagka-guitar dito, maganda ang pagka-simple at pagka-acoustic. Pero, huwag namang ikumpara sa “Ordinary World”. Mas maganda ang “Ordinary World”.

Iyong fifth cut, “Box Full O’ Honey,” gusto ko siya, ewan ko kung bakit. Ito yata ang closest to the Duran sound na nakasanayan ko. Either that, o Arcadia. Para kasing puwede itong Arcadia. Ang naaalala ko naman dito e parang shoot-out sa OK Corral, o pag-ride ng kabayo across Mexico. Atmospheric ba ang word? Basta, sa lahat ng cut, ito ang pinaka-iba ang dating.

Now, itong sixth cut, “Skin Divers,” ay, malaki ang pag-asang mag-hit sa mga bata. Maganda ang drumming ni Roger dito, at ang ganda rin naman ng bass-playing ni John dito. Very, very nice song – para sa akin, ito ang pinaka-gusto kong cut – sexy ang dating. Kung ang “Nite Runner” ay making out in an alley, ito e rip your clothes off and do it, do it, do it ang dating! Kung mayroon mang “visceral” dito, ito siguro iyon. Medyo primal ang dating (or should I say, horny?). Ito siguro ang pinakamalaking saving grace ng CD na ito.

Iyong seventh cut, “Tempted,” well, siguro, ito ang tugtog na uso sa mga bata ngayon, parang pang-club (?) … though ako, ito ang tipo ng kanta na maririnig ko kapag ako ay nagsha-shopping sa Debenhams … so, good or bad thing ba ito? Pero, danceable ito, don’t get me wrong, it’s not a terrible song naman.

Iyong instrumental cut nila, iyong eighth cut, “Tricked Out,” okay naman. Sounds very eighties, pero nothing like “Tiger Tiger” or “Khanada”. Nice playing all throughout from the boys. Hmmm.

Iyong “Zoom In,” naaalala ko si Austin Powers. Parang puwede mong isaksak sa James Bond movie, ewan ko ba. Okay na rin.

Muni-muni mode naman ang ninth cut, “She’s Too Much”. Okay na rin. Same with the last two cuts, “Dirty Great Monster” and “Last Man Standing”. Okay, but not brilliant … baka naman napaka-unfair ko, pero hinahanap ko kasi iyong dating noong “Rio” album na lahat ng cuts e, WOW! Siguro, kailangang pakinggan pa itong CD in the next few days, at mapag-aralan pa ang lyrics ni Simon le Bon. Baka kapag na-appreciate ko ang lyrics e mas magugustuhan ko ang CD.

So, that’s it, pancit! Overall, this second-rate, trying hard, asa pa ako music reviewer gives “Red Carpet Massacre” a Good/Fair rating. I’m pretty sure it will be a better commercial success, compared to their last work with Andy (“Astronaut”). I guess they need to make it to the charts to survive in the business, so sige na nga. If it will give them the next contract for another CD, e sige na. I give the boys an "A" for effort, dahil mahirap nga naman sigurong tumawid to the 21st century, e nagawa naman nila rito kahit nilayasan sila ng impaktitong pasaway na guitarista (who’s probably laughing his head off and saying “I told you so!”). But I think they should have taken more time with this CD. Ewan, ha, feeling ko, minadali, e, dahil ang pinakamagandang cuts e iyong sa collaborative work, e! Quick doesn’t always mean good, Nick! E, ano kung nag-resign si Andy? Stick to the long and winding process you guys are used to next time, parang awa na! Saka, please naman, huwag gawing masyadong electronic ang sound next time, nawawala ang rhythm, e! Si Roger at si John ang gumagawa ng “visceral” sound ninyo, bigyan naman ninyo ng mas maraming trabaho next time! Nakakabitin kasi, e. Kumbaga sa sinigang, e walang sili kapag wala sila! Controlled is okay, but they’re really better kapag sila ay nagwawala. Now, IYON ang “fuck off” sound na hinahanap ko!

So, guys, better luck next time! Medyo halos sablay kayo sa akin with this CD. Next time, work with Jamiroquiai kaya, o Brand New Heavies – kahit hindi masyado bagong artists, e I’m sure lalabas ulit ang funky side ninyo. Roger my love, magpakitang gilas ka sa next CD, ha? Baka maisip kang palitan ng synth ni Nick. Puwede ba, huwag masyadong pahawakin ng synth si Nick? Nagiging Depeche Mode na kayo – not that it’s totally bad, pero nawawala kayo, e! At saka ibalik na ninyo si Andy. Parang Coke iyan, iba talaga ang Original Formula. Batukan na ninyo at sabihan ninyong huwag nang mag-isip ng solo-solo ek-ek career! Namemeligro lang ang career ninyong lahat, e!

Undas 2007

2007-10-30T12:31:00.000-07:00

Hay, Undas na naman. Kasalukuyang nagbabakasyon ang Ditse sa Meycauayan (tiyak na sumasagap na naman ng balita!), at kasalukuyang ako ang taya sa pag-aalaga sa mga alipores naming aso. Kawawang Vice, nagka-separation anxiety yata sa pagbabakasyon ng Ditse. Ngayon ko lang nakita ang aso ko na tumayo sa may pinto ng kotse, habang papaalis kami ng Ditse, patungong F/X station. Kung puwede lang sigurong magsalita si Vice … “Saan ka punta? Huwag ka alis!”

Siyempre, bukod dito, ang Undas ay panahon din para gunitain ang ating mga taong pumanaw na … sa ibang tao (sa karamihan?), ito ay isa ring panahon para makapag-mini vacation.

Masuwerte ako, dahil mukhang hindi yata magpapatawag ng meeting ang mga boss ko (sana ay hindi mausog!). Kaya’t sinasamantala ko na ang panahon para gawin ang mga nabinbin kong gawain. Tulad na lang ng paglilinis ng kuwarto (wow, ang dami ko na namang na-shred na papel!), na sana’y matapos na (at pagod na pagod na ako), at ang pagbe-bake (kaso, ba’t ko naman kasi ibinagsak ang tray, nabasag tuloy lahat ng itlog! Goodbye, chocolate and mocha cakes!).

Sa wakas ay nagkaroon na rin ako ng panahon para dalawin ang Daddy noong Linggo. Inagahan ko na, dahil sa ayokong maipit sa sementeryo na araw mismo ng Undas (hindi ako masokista, gusto ko ring magbakasyon!). Nagtaas ang presyo ng bulaklak ni Suki, pero nakalibre naman ako sa dalawang kandila at isang kahon ng posporo (sayang at hindi ko rin nagamit, dahil bukod sa wala akong makitang paso, ay masama ang panahon at gustong umulan). Saka nagawa rin niyang itusok ang mga dala kong bulaklak na lagi kong dinadala sa puntod kapag may mahalagang okasyon (at may budget), ang puting Stargazer. Sa totoo lang, hindi ko alam kung bakit ito ang napili kong “signature” flower. Siguro, ito kasi ang ipinabaon ko sa puntod noong araw na inilibing ang Daddy.

Tulad ng inaasahan ko, marami-rami na rin ang dumalaw sa sementeryo, dahil sa nakita kong marami nang bulaklak na nakaistasyon sa mga puntod. Nakita ko na may mga bulaklak nang nakalagay sa puntod ng mga madalas ay binabati ko tuwing paalis ako ng sementeryo, sina Mr. Talay (isang sales executive na kaedad ko, pumanaw dahil sa inatake sa puso sa sobrang pag-eehersisyo at pagpapapayat) at si “Lola” (isang senior citizen na mga kaedad ng nanay ko, kung siya’y nabubuhay). Ewan ko ba kung bakit parang may “bonding” ako sa mga ito, gayong hindi ko naman sila nakilala kahit kailan. Siguro, nakaka-konek ako kay Mr. Talay, dahil sa madalas kaming mag-abot ng mga naiwan niya sa buhay (ang mga magulang niya, o ang mag-ina niya) tuwing dumadalaw kami ng Nanay ko sa puntod ng Tatay ko. Lagi nilang dinadalhan ng magagandang bulaklak ang puntod ni Mr. Talay, at iginawa pa nga nila ito ng magandang lalagyan ng kandila gawa sa mga gamit na paso. Nakakatuwa nga, dahil minsan ay iginawa pa nila kami ng dalawang paso (sky blue pa yata ang kulay) para magamit namin sa puntod ng Daddy. Sayang at nawala (madalas “magka-hiraman” ng paso sa sementeryo). Si Lola naman, siguro natutuwa lang ako sa kanya dahil sa ang ganda ng larawan sa lapida niya (blondie pa ang kulay ng buhok!).

Sa sementeryo, kahit papaano, makaka-bonding mo ang mga tao na katulad mo ay parang clockwork ang pagdalaw sa puntod ng kanilang mga minamahal. Makikita mo rin kung paano nila ipinakikita sa kanilang mga pumanaw na ang kanilang pagmamahal o pagbibigay-galang. May iba riyan, pinaliligiran ng mga parang “bakod” ang puntod, para hindi matapakan ng ibang tao. Ang iba riyan, iginagawa ng magarang lalagyan ng kandila. Mayroon namang iba riyan, laging nagdadala ng bulaklak. May nakikita akong puntod malapit kung saan naroroon ang puntod ng Daddy, hindi nawawalan ng magagandang bulaklak. Hindi ko maiwasang maisip na siguro ay napaka-espesyal sa mga nagdadala ng bulaklak ang mga pumanaw na ito.

Ako, praktikal akong tao, pero pagdating sa Daddy, hangga’t kaya ko ay gusto ko na kapag may pagkakataon akong dalawin siya ay may madadala akong magandang bulaklak para sa kanya. Kahit hindi na tulad ng dati na dinadayo ko pa ang Dangwa para lang makabili ng maganda at murang bulaklak, at dalawang beses isang linggo ay dinadalaw ko ang sementeryo. Naisip ko kasi na para maka-move on sa kanyang pagkawala sa aking buhay ay dapat na ilayo ko ang aking sarili sa ganito (kasama na rin dito iyong bad trip ako sa kanya dati, pero ibang usapan pa iyon) … but anyway, kung dumalaw man ako sa kanya, gusto ko kahit papaano ay “espesyal” naman. Kahit na bulaklak lang galing kay Suki, basta may bitbit ako. Siguro, ugali ito na namana ko sa Daddy. Noon kasing nabubuhay siya, lagi siyang may pasalubong. Noong bata ako, madalas niya akong uwian ng mansanas at malaking Hershey bar kapag galing siya ng Indonesia. O, di kaya, hotdog o hamburger galing ng Tropical Hut. O, di kaya, pizza galing Shakey’s, o Chinese food (siopao, siomai) – halata bang puro pagkain ang pasalubong? Kapag weekend naman, madalas na may bitbit siya na sandamutak na komiks at isang malaking bag ng kornik galing Bulacan. Bago siya pumanaw, madalas ay magpapasalubong siya sa amin ng doughnuts galing Country Style, o barquiron galing sa Ninang’s. Etc., etc. Uso sa pamilya ko ang pagbitbit ng pasalubong para sa mga kaibigan o kasama sa trabaho. Siguro, tanda ito na naaalala mo sila, na nag-ukol ka ng panahon para magdala ng kung ano man na sa tingin mo ay mae-enjoy nila o magagamit nila.

Dahil wala na nga ang Daddy sa piling namin ng Mommy, sa dalawang paraan lang kami nakakapagbigay ng “pasalubong” sa kanya – sa pamamagitan ng pagdalaw at pag-alay ng bulaklak, at sa pagdadasal/pamisa. Kahit pa sabihin ng ibang tao na wala namang point ang paggawa nito at hindi naman ito makikita, madarama, mae-enjoy ng pumanaw, okay pa rin sa akin ang tradisyon na ganito. Para sa akin, ito ang paraan para maibalik ko pa rin ang mga naibigay na maganda sa akin ng Daddy. Ito ang paraan para mapanatili kong buhay ang mga magagandang alaala na naiwan niya (siyempre, iyong masamang alaala, layuan!).

Hindi ko alam kung pareho ang karanasan ng ibang tao sa mga karanasan ko, pero laging may dumadalaw na paru-paro sa bahay pagsapit ng Undas. Kahit noong bata pa ako, may biglaan na lang susulpot na paru-paro sa loob ng bahay (kadalasan ay brown o itim ang kulay), sabi nila dalaw daw iyon ng mga pumanaw na. Itong nakaraang linggo, may malaking golden mariposa na dumalaw sa amin at namalagi sa loob ng dalawa-tatlong araw. Ewan kung isa ito sa mga dalaw namin pagpatak ng Undas, basta’t hinayaan na lang namin. Personally, matutuwa ako kung dalaw nga talaga ito ng kamag-anak o kaibigan.

Sa buong buhay ko, mabibilang ko ang mga tao kung saan tumatak sa puso ko ang kanilang pagpanaw.

Dalawa rito ay mga tao na piniling magpatiwakal. Kung kilala ninyo sila, hindi ninyo maiisip na sila ang mga tao na pipiliing mamatay sa sarili nilang mga kamay, dahil parang wala silang kaproble-problema. Saka mo na lang malalaman (kapag huli na ang lahat) na hindi sila maligaya sa mga buhay-buhay nila. Beautiful people who were very lonely people, after all.

Lima rito ay mga tao na namatay kung kailan hindi inaasahan ng lahat (pero, kungsabagay, kailan nga ba naman naging “expected” ang kamatayan?). Ang isa rito, biktima ng sunog sa Ozone sa araw ng kanyang graduation sa kolehiyo. Ang isa rito, kakilala ko na namatay sa edad na 27 lang yata, dahil sa Hepatitis. Ang isa rito, isang ka-batch ko na taga-Ateneo na naka-interaction ng section ko noong nasa high school pa ako, si Lenny Villa, na namatay dahil sa hazing. Ang isa rito, isang ka-batch ko sa UP MBA, si Betty Chua Sy, isang napakasimple at napakagaling na babae na namatay matapos mabaril ng mga gustong kumidnap sa kanya. Ang huli ay si Goldwyn, ang magaling na Music Critic na naging kaibigan at parang kuya ko noong panahon na nagsusulatan kami.

Naririyan ang Tiyo Amado ko, na nagparamdam sa akin noong araw na pauwi kami ng Mommy papuntang Bulacan.

Siyempre, sa lahat ng mga pumanaw sa buhay ko, ang “PINAKA” sa lahat ay ang Daddy, dahil sa mga naging impluwensiya niya sa akin, hindi lang habang nabubuhay siya, kungdi hanggang sa ngayon.

Hindi ko sila kilalang lahat, hindi ko rin mahal ang lahat sa kanila … pero, marami akong natutunan sa kanilang pagpanaw.

Doon sa mga nakilala kong nagpatiwakal … natutunan ko na may tendency akong maging mababaw at judgemental. Mababaw ang naging pagtanaw ko sa kanila, kasi wala akong tiningnan kungdi ang ipinapakita nila sa akin at sa ibang tao. Iyong isa sa kanila, lagi kong tinitilian kasi wala na lang yatang sinabi sa akin kungdi ang problema wala siyang lovelife. Hindi ko agad nakita na napakalaki pala ng mga kinikimkim niya sa sarili, na iyon pala e ang paraan na niya (Big Thing, baga) of reaching out. Noong nakita ko, huli na ang lahat.

Doon sa mga namatay sa hindi inaasahang pagkakataon … doon ko nakita na hindi anting-anting ang kabataan laban sa kamatayan (lalo na ngayon na hindi na rin naman ako ganoon kabata). Hindi natin hawak ang buhay natin, kaya bonus kong itinuturing ang bawa’t araw na nandito pa ako para magawa ang mga gusto ko, makita ang mga kaibigan at pamilya ko, ang makalaro ang pet dogs ko, etc.

Kay Goldwyn naman, sa kanya ko nakita na puwede kang maging positibong impluwensiya sa ibang tao, kahit pa sa malayuan ang ugnayan. Dahil sa kanya, lumago rin ang pagmamahal ko sa iba’t ibang uri ng musika (ESPECIALLY New Wave) … kasama na rin ang sandamutak na tape collection ko.

Sa Tiyo Amado ko naman natutunan na, kapag gusto mong dalawin ang isang tao, gawin mo na agad at baka maging huli ang lahat. Bago siya kasi pumanaw, nalaman ko na hinahanap niya ako … kaso, hindi naman kami nakauwi ng Daddy sa Bulacan, kaya’t hindi ko na siya naabutan.

Tungkol naman sa Daddy … ano nga ba ang masasabi ko sa kanya? Napakarami, hindi matatapos ang blog na ito kung isusulat kong lahat ng nasa isip at puso ko. Sa kanya ko siguro natutunan na … hindi napuputol ang ugnayan ng isang namaalam na sa mga iniwan niya.

Agnostic ang Daddy (ewan kung bakit), at naaalala ko na noong nabubuhay siya e hindi siya sigurado kung mayroon ngang Life After Death. Naaalala ko pa noong nanonood kami ng isang episode ng show ni John Edwards sa Studio 23 (si John Edwards e nakakapag-konek daw sa mga taong namaalam na), komento niya, sana nga raw ay ganoon, na may buhay pa kahit pumanaw na ang isang tao. Mas naniniwala ang Daddy na baka nga wala talagang eternity, pero, sabi niya, eternity is found in one’s children (ewan kung iyon ang dahilan kung bakit hindi lang ako ang binuo niya).

Ako, mas gusto kong maniwala na mayroon ngang Eternity. Pero siguro, hindi mabubuo ang eternity ng tao sa mga anak na bubuuin niya – paano na lang ang mga single at walang anak, ‘di ba? Pero, sa palagay ko, nabubuhay ang eternity ng isang pumanaw sa mga ipinamalas at ipinamahagi niya sa mga taong nakasalamuha niya habang siya’y nabubuhay. It’s the unforgettable memories you create with the people around you. It’s what you leave with them, by just being yourself. Sabi nga nila, it’s how you make the people feel that counts, in the end. Did you make someone feel loved, or important, or small and inferior, mga ganoong bagay ba.

Noong nabubuhay ang Daddy, parang ang pakiramdam ko, hindi masyado malaki o mahalaga ang tingin niya sa sarili niya, dahil naungusan siya ng mga peers niya sa trabaho. Magaling ang Daddy, pero marami siyang mga kaopisina na dahil namalagi sa gobyerno ay tumaas nang tumaas ang posisyon. Parang pakiramdam ko, naging insecurity ng Daddy ang hindi pagiging kasing-sikat ng mga kasamahan niya, o kasing-yaman (alas, ito rin ay madalas na isyu sa buhay ko!).

Pero, kung talagang pagmumunian ko ito … para sa akin, hindi iyon ang dahilan kung bakit nag-iwan ng marka ang Daddy sa buhay ko at sa ibang tao. He made a mark, just by being himself … whether it be for good or ill, nag-iwan siya ng marka sa lahat ng nakasalamuha niya. Kaya’t gusto kong isipin na, kahit ano pa man ang tingin natin sa sarili natin, que importante tayo o hindi, suwerte o malas, buwisit o hindi, single o hindi, etc., etc., … nagmamarka tayo sa bawa’t tao na makasalumuha natin. At dahil limitado ang oras natin sa mundong ito, siguro ay dapat mas mindful tayo sa mga pinaggagagawa natin sa buhay natin, at sa buhay ng ibang tao. Because once we kick the bucket, tapos na. Game over. Wala nang rewind, puwera na lang ang mga video na ipapalabas sa burol mo (kung may budget man!). Kaya, siguro, we really have to make our time on earth count. Positive ba ako o nega? Biyaya ba ako o buwisit sa ibang tao? Sana, kahit na pinaliligiran ako ng sandamutak na concerns ay hindi ko ito malilimutan. Mahirap nang matigok at mapagkuwentuhan na, “What? Si Renny? Ay, super-bitch iyan!” Hahahahaha.

Walang Susuko, Patay Kung Patay (Wow, Parang Action Title) Part 2

2007-10-22T13:01:00.000-07:00

Kamakailan lang (mga isa o dalawang buwan na yata ang nakakaraan) ay napanood ko ang isang episode ng “Oprah,” kung saan in-interview niya ang isang manunulat, si Cormac McCarthy. Kahanga-hanga ang attitude ni Mr. McCarthy na parang walang attachment sa mga bagay-bagay. Minsan nga raw ay sobra siyang walang pera, na ni pambili ng toothpaste ay wala siya! Para sa kanya, mahalaga sa kanya ang pagsusulat. Mahal niya ito, kasi para sa kanya, masayang activity ang pagsusulat. Wala siyang pakialam sa pera o sa kasikatan. Pa-easy-easy lang siya pagdating sa mga kadalasan ay concern ng ibang tao – kasi, ayon sa kanya, dumarating naman ang kailangan niya kung kailan ito kailangan.

Hindi pa ako kasing-evolved ni Mr. McCarthy, pero parang nakaka-relate yata ako sa mga sinabi niya. Una, tungkol sa pagsusulat, hindi ko masasabing mamamatay ako kapag hindi ako makapagsusulat (pero baka nga mamatay ako … .kung mawawalan ako ng trabaho, dahil walang pambili ng food!), pero mahalaga ito sa aking buhay. Natutuwa ako sa proseso ng pagsusulat, kahit ako lang ang involved, o kasama ang ibang tao. Para siyang baking. Kumbaga, creating something out of nothing.

Tulad na lang ng experience ko sa trabaho ko ngayon. Siyempre, masarap ang nababayaran ka para sa paghihirap mo. Sa trabahong ito, may bonus na psychic income. Nakikita mo kasi na nag-eenjoy rin ang mga tao sa pinaghirapan mo. Kunyari na lang, kapag bumuo kayo ng isang buwisit na kontrabida, pagdating mo ng bahay, tinatanong ka ng nanay mo kung kailan at paano ba mamamatay iyong kontrabida. O, kapag bumuo kayo ng mga superhero, makikita mo ang mga batang nagro-role playing, kunyari sila ang mga superhero at villain na nabuo ninyo.

Para siyang cake. Masarap kapag nailuto mo at nag-enjoy ka, pero mas masarap kapag naibahagi mo sa iba, at nasarapan din sila.

Pangalawa, tungkol sa pag-timing ng pagdating ng mga pangangailangan. Ang masasabi ko lang, napakagaling tumayming ng Diyos. Parang noong pagkakataon na “nabanggit” ng nanay ko kay St. Joseph na nagugutom yata siya, at paglingon niya ay papalapit na sa kanya ang magtataho … o, iyong pagkakataon na kailangan namin ng pera, at biglang nanganak nang sandamutak ang puno namin ng mangga (hello, extra income!). Itong nakaraang buwan na ito ay napakagaling tumayming ng Diyos, dahil kung kailan medyo down ang aking self-esteem, ay siya namang pagdating ng eksaktong kailangan ko para maiangat ko ulit ang aking paniniwala sa sarili. Nagkaroon akong bigla ng writing assignment. Ang masasabi ko lang? MILAGRO, MILAGRO TALAGA!

Naaalala ko iyong nabasa ko dating quotation – parang, kung kailan nawawalan ka na ng pag-asa at paniniwala, doon biglang ipapakita ng Diyos ang pagmamahal niya sa iyo. Ewan ko kung ano ang karanasan ng ibang tao, pero ako, sa buhay ko, lagi kong nakikita iyon. Kahit ano pang pagrereklamo ang gawin ko, naririyan ang Diyos para isalba ako sa kung ano mang sitwasyon ang bumabagabag sa akin.

Napakasuwerte ko, dahil sa writing assignment na ito, naramdaman ko ang pagkalinga ng Diyos sa pamamagitan ng mga taong kasama ko sa trabaho, ng mga kaibigan ko, ng pamilya ko. Sobrang technical at moral support ang natanggap ko sa mga kasama ko sa trabaho, at sobrang moral support naman ang natanggap ko sa mga kaibigan at pamilya ko. Paano ka ba naman hindi mai-inspire kapag ganyan ang nakapaligid sa iyo, hindi ba?

Itong writing assignment na ito ay tumayming kung kailan ika-apat na taong anibersaryo ng pagpanaw ng Daddy ko. Sa totoo lang, hindi ko maipaliwanag kung bakit lahat ng mga pagkakataon na makapagsulat ako ay pumapatak sa anibersaryo ng pagpanaw niya, o ng kaarawan niya. Ang naiisip ko na lang, siguro ay hindi ko lang nai-imagine na naririyan siya upang tulungan ako. Siguro, hindi naman siya talaga nawawala.

Noong panahon na mababa ang morale ko, parang nararamdaman ko na naririyan siya at nagsasabi sa akin na huwag akong mag-alala, na gagawa siya ng paraan. Tinarayan ko pa nga, dahil ang “isinagot” ko ay, “Huwag ninyo nga akong kausapin, lalo lang sumasama ang loob ko, kasalanan ninyo itong lahat!” Iyong frustration ko, ikinakabit ko sa mga tingin ko ay naging mga kakulangan niya sa akin, kaya ayun. Bingo ang Daddy ko sa katarayan ko, kahit ilang taon na siya sa … kung saan man siya ngayon.

Pero, hindi yata ako nag-iimagine, dahil naganap nga ang milagro. At sa totoo lang, sa buong proseso, parang pakiramdam ko ay binantayan at ginabayan ako ng Daddy. Kahit pa nang dahil sa deadline ay hindi ko siya nadalhan ng bulaklak noong ika-apat na anibersaryo ng pagpanaw niya.

Hindi ko alam kung bakit ramdam na ramdam ko ang presensiya ng Daddy ko noong nai-submit ko iyong first draft ng scripts na ipinagawa sa akin. Kaya siguro naiyak ako matapos ko siyang mai-e-mail. Ang hirap ipaliwanag ang mga nararamdaman ko – nariyan na iyong stress, anxiety, relief, happiness, excitement, at kung ano-ano pa. Pero, kasama rin doon iyong pakiramdam ko na hindi nga ako talaga pinabayaan ng Daddy sa pagkakataong ito.

Napakatagal na panahon na galit ako sa Daddy ko. Matapos niya kasing pumanaw, napakarami naming hirap na pinagdaanan ng Mommy ko, na pakiramdam ko, hindi mangyayari kung hindi dahil sa kanya. Kulang na lang nga isumpa ko siya, dahil ang laki-laki ng mga atraso niya. At dumating na rin sa punto na tinanong ko ang sarili ko kung minahal nga ba niya kami ng Mommy ko, o puro pambobola lang ba ang lahat.

Hindi ko maipaliwanag kung bakit, pero sa pagkakataong ito, bukod sa naramdaman ko ang pagtulong ng Diyos sa akin, parang naramdaman ko rin na “bumalik” ang Daddy na kilala ko at minahal ko noong nabubuhay pa siya. Parang gusto kong maniwala na … maybe he did love me and my mother, after all.

Noong isang linggo, hindi ko rin maipaliwanag kung bakit, parang may nagtutulak sa akin na basahin ang mga sulat niya sa akin noong nabubuhay pa siya. Noong una, sabi ko pa nga sa kanya e, ayoko, hindi pa ako handa, ayokong umiyak (kasi, may meeting ako kinabukasan). Pero, pinagbigyan ko rin ang “request” na iyon, at binuksan ko ang kahon na sabi ko sa sarili ko ay hinding-hindi ko na bubuksan. Ito ang plastic box na naglalaman ng lahat ng photographs namin, ng mga sulat at card niya sa akin, at ang photographs ng kanyang burol at libing. (Sa totoo lang, hindi ko ma-gets kung bakit gusto ng mga Pinoy na mag-picture-an ng burol at libing!)

Tiningnan kong muli ang mga photographs namin noong nabubuhay siya (kaunti lang, kasi sa totoo lang, hindi kami mahilig mag-picture-an na pamilya), at binasa kong muli ang mga sulat niya sa akin. Noon, may punto na kapag binabasa ko ang mga sulat niya, ang pumapasok lang sa isip ko ay sinungaling siya. How could he say he loved me and my mother, ganoong sobra-sobrang paghihirap ang dinanas namin dahil sa kanya matapos niyang pumanaw? Pero, noong gabi na binasa kong muli ang letters niya, iba ang naramdaman ko. It was a father, telling his daughter that he loved her. Period.

Nangako ako sa sarili ko na hindi na ako iiyak dahil sa kanya, pero balde-balde na namang luha ang nailabas ko. Ang maganda rito, hindi na nangibabaw sa akin iyong galit ko sa kanya sa mga naging atraso niya sa amin ng Mommy. Ang naiisip ko lang talaga ngayon, sana, nandito siya. Masarap sana iyong katulad ng dati na uuwi ako ng bahay, at sabay-sabay kaming kakain na mag-anak (hindi kasi talaga kakain ng dinner ang parents ko hangga’t hindi ako nakauwi ng bahay), tapos maikukuwento ko ang mga nangyayari sa akin at sa trabaho. Masarap sana iyong nandito siya, kasama namin ng Mommy at ng Ditse na manood ng TV, kapag finally ay nag-e-air na iyong script. Kung naririto siya, tiyak na ipagyayabang niya iyong mga isinulat ko sa mga friends niya (medyo mahangin ang Daddy, e).

Sa kabila ng lahat, ang bottomline pa rin pala ay, mahal ko pa rin pala ang Daddy ko. And to feel that kind of love and affection for him again … para sa akin, blessing din. Kasi, napakahirap dalhin iyong mahal mo iyong isang tao na pumanaw na, pero halos hindi mo siya mapatawad.

Two weekends ago, ang tema ng misa ay pagpapasalamat (gratitude). Kakatapos lang yata pumasa ng script ko noon (iyong first four days ay pasado sa boss ko – hay, salamat po). Hindi ko rin maipaliwanag kung bakit, pero noong pagkakataon na iyon, naranasan ko iyong naranasan ng isa kong kaibigan - ang maluha sa pakiramdam ng pagpapasalamat sa Diyos. Hawak ko ang kamay ng nanay ko habang nag-a-Ama Namin kami sa misa, and I was just overwhelmed by this feeling of gratitude towards God. Nakakakaluha nga halos, e.

Basta, ang alam ko lang, at that point, mahirap ang buhay, pero napakaraming blessings sa buhay ko. Kahit ang hirap mag-budget, ayun at kasama ko pa rin magsimba ang Nanay ko, na buhay na buhay pa at walang sakit (kungdi ang katakawan, like yours truly). Pag-uwi ko, naroroon pa rin ang Ditse ko, na kahit minsan ay masungit, makulit at nakakaloka ay inaasikaso pa rin ako, kahit pa 83 na siya. Naroroon ang 5 pet dogs ko na nagbibigay sa akin ng unconditional love, basta’t may kickback sila sa pagkain, at lagi ko silang lalaruin. I’ve got a job that helps me pay the bills (slowly but surely – I still wish it will be quickly and surely in the near future!), co-workers who are so great to work with, mentors who help me improve in this field, friends who have loved me and have stuck with me for years and years and years, the means to make myself and my loved ones comfortable … sa totoo lang, I already have everything I need, plus a little more. Kahit pa sabihing pahirapan pa lagi at this point ang budget (at hindi ko pa nakikita ang aking Roger Taylor equivalent sa pag-ibig), kung susumahin ang lahat, napaka-okay ng buhay ko, kahit pa napakaraming sakit ang pinagdaanan ko at ng pamilya ko.

Twice a day (once, paggising ko, then, bago ako matulog), I tell God, “Thank you for giving me another day of life”. Kasi, kahit ano pa ang nangyayari sa buhay ko, as it is, napakarami nang magandang tao at bagay na nagpapasaya sa akin. Saka, ang bawa’t araw kasi, pagkakataon para mangarap at umasa, at ang mag-strive para matupad ang mga panaginip. Ang ibang tao, ayaw mangarap at umasa (mahirap mag-expect, mahirap ma-disappoint, too much work, it’s impossible, etc., etc.). Pero, para sa akin, napakasarap mangarap, napakasarap umasa. Most of the time, ha. Hindi ko sinasabing 100 percent of the time (I’m only human, after all). Pero, napakasarap iyong aware ka sa mga magangandang bagay sa buhay mo, and you are assured everything will be better (even if your feelings tell you otherwise). Mahirap, pero masarap pa rin, na alam mo 100 percent, na kahit bad trip ang buhay sa kasalukuyan, alam mong may maganda pa ring nangyayari, AT may magandang mangyayari.

Until the next cycle of hope, despair and triumph … as they say sa mga telenovela at komiks … ABANGAN!

Walang Susuko - Patay Kung Patay (Wow, Parang Action Title)

2007-09-18T14:02:00.000-07:00

Alas-kuwatro y diyes ng umaga, at ako’y gising pa. Hindi ako makapaniwalang naabot ko ang deadline ng boss ko, may sukli pang ilang oras! Sa wakas, puwede na ulit akong matulog nang maayos.

Ginulantang ako at ng ilang mga kasama ko sa trabaho ng isang “challenge” mula sa boss ko. Contest baga. Ang mananalo, taya sa isang linggong scripts (which translates to a WHOLE LOT MORE money pagdating ng suweldo, which means, liliit ang budget deficit, kung magkataon). Ang galing din tumayming ng boss ko. Ginawa niya ang announcement nang hindi pa halos umaabot ang kanyang pwet, este, bum, sa upuan. At parang mala-Pavlovian experiment na sabay-sabay ang reaksiyon naming mga mine-mentor niya. Lagok ng iniinom o kinakain nang hindi mahirinan, at magsimula nang mag-panic, mag-isip at magdasal.

Ang unang sumagi sa isipan ko ay, Nanay ko! Kaya ko ba ito? Bumalik ang dating takot noong ako’y nagka-pneumonia at sumabit ako sa isang deadline niya. Isa sa mga pinaka-traumatic na pangyayari sa buhay ko, because I’ve always been proud of the quality of my work, kahit saan pa akong industriya nagtratrabaho. Mabuti na lang at mabilis nag-kick in ang utak ko para magsimulang mag-isip. Bago pa mandin ako makatulog nang gabing iyon ay nakabuo na ako ng outline ng mga malamang na ilalaman ng aking assignment.

Salamat sa dalawang hamburger (hindi kayo namamalikmata – dalawa!) na inihain ng Ditse ko para sa giyera … este, almusal. Ang hamburger kasi ang aking food of the month (malapit na naman ang monthly bwisitor), kaya’t may naka-stock akong burger ingredients dito sa bahay. Matapos kong ubusin ang mga sandwich, tahimik akong nagtaka at hindi ako pumutok sa kabusugan, at lumarga na ako sa aking paboritong internet café, ang Netopia sa Circle C Mall.

Mula alas-onse hanggang pasado alas siyete ay binuno ko ang aking assignment. Himalang hindi ako nakatulog, dahil sobrang sarap ang nagtratrabaho sa lugar na may airconditioner. Himalang hindi ako naghuramentado at nakapatay ng isang laksang mga high school student na noong pumasok sa Netopia para maglaro ng computer game ay sing-ingay ng mga tao sa sabungan, kasing-manhid ng isang pasyenteng naka-full anesthesia, at sing-bastos ng mga X-rated rapper sa tabi-tabi. Sa unang pagkakataon ay nagtaray ako, dahil sa isang pipitsuging bata na Hari ng Lahat ng Kabuwisitan. Kawawang katabi kong high school student sa computer, siya ang nasinghal ko at natanong, rapido, parang abogado, kaklase mo iyan? Ano ba iyan? Grade school o high school? Puwede ba’ng ibaba ang volume? Nagtratrabaho ako! Limang Segundo lang bumait ang gagong bubwit, bago nagsimula ang kabastusan. Lagi ko itong nasasabat sa internet café na ito, at isa na lang ang hinihintay ko, bago siya maka-bingo sa akin. Tulungan ako ng Diyos, dahil malapit ko na’ng gawing rug ang batang ito. Kung puwede lang ilampaso!

Ano ba’ng napupulot ng mga batang ito sa paligid nila, at josko, napaka-BRAT! Kawawa naman ang mga magulang nila, kung nalalaman lang nila na pagtalikod nila ay mga demonyito ang mga sumisipsip ng suweldo, dugo at pawis nila. Aba, e mas malutong pang magmura sa mga gurang na tulad ko! Puwedeng-puwedeng I-tally ang dami ng beses na narinig ko ang “Puki,” “Puta,” “Fuck,” at kung ano-ano pang mura. Ewan ko, ha, pero para sa akin, napaka-wa taste marinig ito sa mga batang ni hindi pa yata tinutubuan ng facial hair. Banlawan nga ninyo ng Tide ang mga dila ninyo, mga maiingay na bastos!

Pasalamat at isang oras lang naglagi ang mga demonyito, este, binatilyo. Kaya’t nakapag-concentrate ulit ako sa aking trabaho. Tumigil na ako noong bandang alas-siyete dahil malapit nang mag-200 pesos ang aking bill, at bukod doon, namumuti na ang paligid ko sa gutom, at malapit na akong mag-UTI. Itinuloy ko ang aking trabaho matapos ang hapunan, sa kalagitnaan ng Oprah. Salamat, salamat sa Diyos, natapos ko rin! Salamat, China Crisis! Ang galing ninyong magpa-relax …

Ang tanong na lang ngayon ay, ako ba ang pipiliin? Sa totoo lang, josko, said na said na ang lakas ko, at wala na ako halos maipang-rah rah sa sarili ko. Bakit ba kasi hindi na lang ako bigyan diretso ng assignment, bakit kailangan pa’ng makipag-Mad Max sa ibang tao? Am I not worthy????

Pero, sige na nga, ganyan ang gusto, ibigay ang hilig.

Sabi nga nila, it ain’t over ‘til the fat lady sings … at wala akong planong magpatalo rito. Mamamatay muna ako bago ako sumuko! Kaya … abangan ang susunod na kabanata. In the meantime, magdasal double-time, and hope for the best!

Hello, Goldwyn, Goodbye

2007-09-16T12:48:00.001-07:00

Hindi ko maipaliwanag kung bakit, pero sumagi sa isipan ko ang isang tao na naging kaibigan ko sa isang kakaibang paraan.

Ang pangalan niya ay Goldwyn Morales Azul, GMA for short. Noong nasa kolehiyo pa ako ay binabasa ko ang kanyang record guide (“The GMA Record Guide”) sa Flash magazine, na isang chismis magazine. Hindi ko nga maintindihan kung paano at bakit sa lahat ng magazine e doon pa isinaksak ang column niya – dahil siya lang ang katangi-tanging nagsusulat ng Ingles, at nagsusulat ng matino. Anyway, hindi ko na maalala kung bakit, pero isang gabi, naisip kong mag-type ng sulat sa kanya – I think, basically to compliment him on his column.

Wala na sigurong mas gulat pa sa akin nang makatanggap ako ng sulat mula sa kanya – kung hindi ako nagkakamali, handwritten thank you note pa yata ang ipinadala niya sa akin! Siyempre, sulat naman ako. Sumagot siyang muli. Nagpatuloy ang sulatan naming, at dumating ang araw na nagkausap kami sa telepono. Naaalala ko pa nga ang unang pagkakataon na nag-usap kami. Wala kasing landline sa bahay (1995 pa yata bago kami nakabitan), kaya’t tumawag ako sa isang payphone sa UP College of Economics (maaga iyon, mga alas-8 yata, bago ako magklase). Siyempre, wala pang e-mail at cellphone noon, pero kahit wala pa ng mga ganoon noong mga panahon na iyon, ay naging steady at constant ang pagsusulatan namin.

Napakabait sa akin ni Goldwyn. Dahil alam niyang paborito ko si Kenny Loggins, minsan ay nagpadala pa siya sa akin ng kumpletong set ng lyrics sa paborito kong kanta ni Kenny, iyong “Wait A Little While”. With matching guitar chords pa, ha! At kapag na-miss ko ang issue ng Flash magazine ay papadalhan niya ako via mail, para hindi ko ma-miss ang record review niya.

Mula music, tumawid ang aming pagsusulatan at diskusyon sa totoong buhay – sa trabaho, sa pag-ibig. Kahit ni minsan ay hindi ko siya nakilala nang harapan, ay para akong nagkaroon ng isang totoong kaibigan at kuya. Minsan ay nagplano siyang dalawin ako rito sa amin – saying at hindi natuloy. Bakit naman kasi nasa kabilang ibayo siya nakatira! (Quezon City ako, sa may NAIA naman siya).

Hanggang mga taong 1995 ay nagsusulatan kami. Ang naaalala kong huling pagkakataon na makausap siya ay noon yatang 1995 din. Tinawagan ko siya para hingin ang e-mail niya, pero hindi ko yata makuha ang syntax ng e-mail niya, dahil nag-bounce yata. Sadly ay naputol ang ugnayan naming ng aking kaibigan.

Kahit hindi ko ginusto ay nag-fade sa aking mundo si Goldwyn, pero kahit kailan ay hindi siya nawala sa listahan ko ng mga mabubuting kaibigan. Sa pagdaan ng panahon ay hindi lang iisang beses na naisip ko na hanapin siya, tawagan muli. Minsan, nai-imagine ko pa na imbitahin siya sa wedding ko nang magkita kami sa wakas – pero, siyempre, hindi rin naman nangyari ito, dahil wala naman akong pinaplanong wedding para sa sarili ko.

Ewan ko ba kung bakit naisip kong bigla si Goldwyn itong gabing ito. Noong una, hinanap ko sa Friendster ang pangalan niya. Zero results. So, naisip kong mag-Google.

Hindi pa rin ako makapaniwala sa nabasa ko.

Dahil ang kaibigan kong si Goldwyn ay pumanaw na pala, dalawang taon na ang nakakaraan.

Sa isang artikulong nabasa ko, doon ko nalaman ang lahat – kung gaano pala katanyag si Goldwyn bilang isang record reviewer, kung gaano siya kagaling bilang isang manunulat, at kung gaano rin siya kabait sa ibang tao na tulad ko. Masakit malaman na sa bago siya pumanaw ay nawala ang kanyang paningin. Sana, sana ay hindi naghirap sa kanyang huling sandali ang aking kaibigan.

Ewan kung bakit sumagi siyang muli sa isip ko itong gabi – ito kaya ang kanyang paraan para magsabi ng paalam? Nakakalungkot isipin na kahit kailan ay hindi ko na siya muling makakausap (kung kailan may landline at cellphone na ako!) o makakakuwentuhan (sa e-mail naman sana). Sana, kung panahon na para ako naman ang mamaalam sa mundong ito ay makita ko siya nang makapagkuwentuhan kami nang tunay.

Si Goldwyn ang patunay na hindi kailangan ang harapang usapan para makabuo ng isang magandang pakikipagkaibigan. Na kahit sa sulat o pag-uusap lamang ay puwedeng magbahagi ng maganda sa ibang tao.

Goldwyn, thank you for spending time with me while you were here on this earth. You were a very good friend to me, and a very good “kuya”. Stay safe in God’s embrace, and I shall see you when it’s time. Keep watch over me, okay? I’ll always be grateful for your friendship.

Aaugh!

2007-09-13T12:41:00.000-07:00

Kangina, alas-7:46 ng umaga, ay ginising ako ng isang tawag mula sa aking cellphone. Hindi ko na ibla-blog ang detalye ng tawag na ito – itanong na lang ninyo sa akin kung ano ito. Ang masasabi ko lang, parang ito siguro ang equivalent ng “Dear John” letter. Mabilis at to the point, para siguro hindi ka maka-react sa pangyayari at saka ka na lang maghuhuramentado. Inabot nga ako ng halos isang araw bago ako maluha. Napakatagal na delayed reaction, ano. Siguro, ganito rin ang pakiramdam ng sinagasaan ng bus – shocked ka kasi, kaya hindi mo agad mari-realize na teka, putol na pala ang katawan mo! Sa sitwasyon ko, inabot ako ng halos isang araw bago ko ma-realize na parang nilagay sa blender ang puso ko.

Ano ang masasabi ko rito? Para sigurong kung ako ang kinaliwang si Juan, na buong akala ko ay bibiyayaan ako ng gantimpala kung gagawin ko ang sa akala ko’y nararapat, o tama. Na kung ako ay may pagmamahal at dedikasyon ay hindi ako magplaplakda sa pagkadisymaya.

Pero tulad nga ng sabi nila, na alam na alam nating lahat, “Shit happens” … Alam ko naman iyon. Hindi naman ako ganoon ka-inosente. Iyon nga lang, hindi ko inakalang sa akin mangyayari … napakadakilang tanga ko rin naman kasi. As if naman, kapag matino ka ay may agimat ka na laban sa mga nakaka-disappoint na pangyayari. Tamang-tama na i-caption sa nangyari sa akin kangina ang “When bad things happen to good people.”

Life is never fair, alam ko naman iyon. Pero, sa totoo lang, masakit pa rin kapag sa iyo nangyari ito. Na sa kabila ng pagkilos mo ng kung ano ang sa tingin mo ay tama, ay hindi ka nabibiyayaan at imbes ay nape-penalty ka pa yata!

Sabi sa akin ng spiritual director ko sa Cenacle, kapag dumaraan ka sa mga mahihirap na sitwasyon, ibig sabihin noon, paborito ka ng Diyos. Parang, puwede ba’ng huwag ako’ng maging masyadong paborito? Mahirap, e!

Ano ang nararamdaman ko ngayon? Siyempre, masamang-masama ang loob ko. Sobrang sama nga ng loob ko na nagmamaneho ako pauwi, at ayokong umuwi dahil gusto ko yatang maluha sa inis at frustration. Na kung saan-saang mall pa ako nag-stop over para lang mapasaya ko ang sarili ko. E, medyo nuno nga yata ng kabuwisitan itong araw na ito – aba’t sino ba naman ang taxi driver na ang tawag sa akin ay “Baby” (!) – ano, Baby Damulag ba? O, pangmamanyak na ba ito? At buhusan ka ba naman ng ulan kung kailan patawid ka na ng Trinoma patungong SM North! Bwiset, bwiset talaga.

(Sa totoo lang, nakakatawa siya … pero, sa akin kasi nangyari, e. Kaya hindi pa siya nakakatawa … give me a few days …)

Kaya, punyeta – kumain ako ng Big Mac at sundae dahil ako’y nalulungkot!

Minsan … kadalasan … napapagod na ako. Napapagod na akong mangarap, napapagod na rin akong i-rah-rah ang sarili ko, dahil minsan kahit marami pa ang nagra-rah-rah sa paligid ko, hindi ko na sila naririnig. Pagod na nga kasi. Nakakapagod mangarap, lalong-lalo na kapag pakiramdam mo, isang kindat na lang at makakamit mo na ang ipinagdarasal mo na tagumpay, at tila isang abot na lang ng kamay ay naririyan na siya. Ang noon mo pa pinaghihirapan. Ang dahilan ng lahat ng iyong pagsasakripisyo. So near, yet so far. Ganoon ang pakiramdam. Parang minsan, pakiramdam mo, iniuumpog mo lang yata ang sarili mo sa pader. Pointless baga.

Saan ba ako gustong dalhin ng Diyos? Gusto ba niya akong maging Japayuki? E, wala naming bibili ng puri ko. Boldstar? Hindi naman ako seksi. Politiko? Malay ko bang magsinungaling nang walang pakundangan. Ang alam ko lang, ang maging ako, at ang magpunyagi para sa mga pangarap ko, na sana e makamit ko, hindi lang para sa sarili ko, kungdi para sa pamilya ko. I just want to lead an honest life, earn good money doing something I enjoy, without screwing others in the process. Problema ba iyon?

Mabuti sana kung ako e iyong may tinatawag na “killer instinct,” at wala rin akong konsiyensiya. Wala na akong iisipin kungdi sarili ko, kaya mas maging madali ang kumilos nang walang pakialam (wala nga kasing konsiyensiya, e). Kaso, wala ako noon, e. Kaya’t ewan ko … kung ako e may nakatatak na “L” sa aking noo (“LOSER”), ewan ko. I certainly feel that way tonight.

Pakiramdam ko, I’m stuck in the middle of God-knows-what. I’m neither here nor there. Pero, sabi nga nila, “The more things change, the more they remain the same.” Sana, sa kaso ko, baligtad na lang. “The more things remain the same, the more things change.” Sana, kahit hindi ko nakikita o nararamdaman ngayon, lumalapit ako sa pagtupad ng mga hangarin at pangarap ko. Kahit sa ang tingin ko sa gabing ito ay naka-neutral ang buhay ko. Wait, hindi neutral. Reverse.

The Chains That Bind Us

2007-09-07T14:04:00.000-07:00

Magseseryoso lang muna ako sa sandaling ito, ha. May mga naoobserbahan kasi ako sa paligid ko na hindi ko matiis na hindi tilian.

Gusto ko lang malaman …

Sa ilang mga lalaki riyan (Kung puwede lang kayong i-eject sa planeta). Bakit ninyo sasabihin sa isang babae na mahal na mahal ninyo siya at mamamatay kayo kapag hindi kayo magkakatuluyan, pero kung mag-asawa na kayo ay masahol pa sa aso ang turing ninyo sa kanya?

Nagpapakasal ang babae para magkaroon ng katuwang sa buhay, hindi para magkaroon ng isang gurang na nakalambitin sa kanyang leeg na hanggang ngayon ay hindi pa rin matanggap ang kanyang responsibilidad bilang ama at asawa. Hindi nagpapakasal ang babae para siya lang ang magtratrabaho at magtaguyod sa pamilya. Hindi nagpapakasal ang babae para sigaw-sigawan at lait-laitin ang lahat ng mahalaga sa kanya. Hindi nagpapakasal ang babae para diktahan kung ano ang gagawin at kung ano ang isusuot at kung sino ang dapat niyang makasalamuha o hindi. Hindi nagpapakasal ang babae para pagdudahan ang kanyang katapatan, habang kayo ay naglalamyerda sa mga beerhouse, club, at kung ano-ano pang lugar para magpa-guwapo o magpa-macho, at magpanggap na hanggang ngayon ay single pa rin.

Ang babae ay katuwang, hindi human ATM machine, hindi slave, hindi prostitute na gagamitin anytime kayo nag-iinit. Ang babae ay ang inyong ina, ang inyong kapatid, ang inyong kaibigan … ang babae ay hindi manikang de-susi.

At kung akala ninyo na kapag sinigaw-sigawan ninyo ang isang babae o pinagbawalan ay lalo kayong magiging macho o “lalaki,” nagkakamali kayo. Kahit ano pa’ng gawin ninyo para palabasin ninyong “maliit” ang inyong misis kaysa sa inyo, alam ng lahat, at tiyak kong alam na alam ninyo kung ano ang totoo.

Walang lalaki na hindi magsisikap para itaguyod ang kanyang pamilya. Walang lalaki na hahayaang halos tumihaya sa pagod ang kanyang asawa sa trabaho. Walang lalaki na hindi sensitibo sa pangangailangan ng kanyang asawa. Walang lalaki na sa bawa’t sandali ay sisigawan ang kanyang asawa, o manlalait ng kanyang pamilya o kaibigan. Walang lalaki na kulang na lang ay patayin sa bugbog ang kanyang asawa. Walang lalaki na sa kabila ng lahat ay maghahanap pa ng ibang kandungan.

Sana naman ay nakikita ninyo kung gaano naghihirap ang mga babaeng nagmamahal sa inyo. Sana naman ay marunong kayong mahiya sa sarili ninyo, at sa sarili ninyong pamilya (kalimutan na ang ibang tao riyan). Huwag maging batugan. Kung kailangang isantabi ang pangarap, isantabi ito at humanap ng paraan para hindi si misis lang ang kumakayod. Huwag gawing ATM ang asawa. Gawin ninyo ang sarili ninyong kagalang-galang at karespe-respeto. Maging lalaki na karapat-dapat sa asawa at anak!

Ngayon, kung kayo e talagang walang katorya-toryang klase ng tao, at mas manhid at makapal pa kaysa gulong ng kotse (in other words, USER-FRIENDLY!), e humiwalay na kayo. Maawa kayo sa mga anak ninyo. Dahil gusto ba ninyong ganyang klase ng ama ang makikilala ng mga anak ninyo? Gusto ninyong paglaki nila ay katipo rin ninyo ang pakasalan nila? Sila man lang ay iligtas ninyo.

Sa mga babae naman, gusto kong malaman …

Bakit ba mas madalas sa hindi na ang tingin natin sa sarili natin ay wala tayong karapatang makahanap ng pag-ibig?

Bakit tayo naniniwala na may kulang sa atin, hindi tayo karapat-dapat, “weird” tayo, kaya wala tayong boyfriend o asawa? O, ‘di kaya, “weird” tayo dahil wala tayong boyfriend o asawa?

Bakit natin pipiliin ang mga tarantadong latak na lalaki, na alam nating dudurugin lang ang puso natin, para lang masabi nating hindi tayo nag-iisa?

Bakit tayo nagtitiyaga sa mga tarantadong latak na lalaki, at tayo pa ang maghahabol sa kanila, kahit may bago na siyang minamahal (or at the very least e fini-fling-a-ling), at literally ay sinisipa na tayo palabas ng kanilang mundo?

Bakit pagkatapos I-blender ng mga tarantadong latak na lalaki ang puso nating mga babae ay iisipin natin na tayo ang may kakulangan, tayo ang “weird” at “abnormal”? Hindi ba’t sila ang gago?

Bakit tayo takot na takot tumanda?

Bakit tayo takot na takot sa pagiging mag-isa?

Bakit tayo sanay na sanay nag-iisa?

Bakit hindi tayo naniniwala na may mga matitino rin naming lalaki riyan, na puwedeng magmahal sa atin?

Bakit parang mas gusto pa nating maging stuck sa isang mundo o pananaw na walang patutunguhan at wala naming kabutihang idinudulot sa buhay?

Mahirap magbago. Mahirap kumalas. Mahirap umasa. Mahirap bumitaw sa pag-asa. Mahirap mag-move on.

But change is necessary. Unless masokista ang isang tao, there is no reason to stay in pain. There is no reason to stay in a rut, or a particular frame of mind that’s not working anymore.

Bato-bato sa langit, ang tamaan, guilty. Kasama ako roon!

I am sharing my all-time favorite poem (galing ito sa internet). Hindi klaro kung sino ang author nito (Veronica Shofstall DAW) …

After a while...
After a while you learn

the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul

and you learn that love doesn't mean possession and company doesn't mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts

and presents aren't promises

and you begin to accept your defeats

with your head up and your eyes ahead

with the grace of an adult not the grief of a child.

And you learn to build your roads today

because tomorrows ground is too uncertain for plansand futures have ways of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn that even sunshine burns

if you get too much

so you plant your own garden

and decorate your own soul

instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure

that you really are strong

and you really do have worthand you learn

and you learn...

When It Rains, It Tsunamis ...

2007-08-18T14:07:00.000-07:00

Kung kalilimutan natin na nagmimistulang Waterworld sa flashflood ang buong Pilipinas kapag ganito ang panahon, e talaga namang enjoyable ang tag-ulan. Puwera na lang kung ma-stuck ka sa flashflood sa labas ng bahay mo, o bitbitin ang bubong ng bahay mo (or worse, bitbitin ka ng buhawi o ipo-ipo), wala na yatang mas masarap pa sa paglalagi sa loob ng bahay, na parang naka-centralized aircon sa lamig na dulot ng tag-ulan. For one, para kang nakaisa sa MERALCO, hehe.

Ako, gusto ko, natatapos ko nang maaga ang mga responsibilidad ko, para ma-maximize ko ang aking “aircon”. Siyempre, mas madali ang mga gawaing-bahay kapag malamig (hindi ka pinapawisan), saka mas enjoyable din ang mag-relax o matulog. Ang sarap gumising ng alas-4 o alas-5 am at matulog by 9 pm nang malamig ang panahon (iba talaga ang totohanang pagtulog nang maaga). Enjoy rin na nasa loob ka lang ng bahay, at nagbabasa-basa lang, nanonood ng kung anong DVD, o nakikinig ng mga lumang kanta ng kabataan mo (nag-China Crisis marathon ako kahapon, at nadiskubre kong gusto ko pala ang mga kanta nila!).

Perfect din ang tag-ulan para magmuni-muni (o magmukmok, depende sa gusto mo). In my case, dahil hindi pa rin natatanggal nang tuluyan ang aking “blues” (Ngayon ko lang nalaman na malungkot din pala ang matalo sa Palanca, kahit hindi ka masyadong umaasa), naging “moment” ko ito para harapin ang mga “inner struggle” at “angst” na nararamdaman ko lately.

Tulad noong Huwebes, na ang aking “Day-Enders” ay (1) Nawalan na ako talaga ng pag-asa na manalo sa Palanca (dahil ang nanalo ay ang kasama ko sa trabaho – congrats to him, pero siyempre, nalulungkot pa rin ako sa sarili ko); (2) Na-meet ko ang isang high school classmate ko na nagmamay-ari na pala ng ilang branch ng malaking restaurant with her hubby (Kapag pinairal mo na ang inggit, ang unang iisipin mo ay, syet, buti pa siya – ako, walang lovelife, walang negosyo, walang datung!); at (3) Habang pauwi ka ay mamamatay nang tuluyan ang aircon ng kotse mo (syeeeet, gastos na naman!).

Wala pa rin akong solusyon sa mga pinagdaraanan ko ngayon, pero malaki pa rin naman ang naitutulong ng isang rainy weekend sa loob ng bahay. When you’ve been given time to rest or do things you enjoy, nababago ang perspective mo sa mga concerns mo. Hindi man maramdaman ng puso mo, at least logically, nakasentro na ulit ang isip mo. Hindi mo na masyadong iniinda kung ano man ang nawala sa iyo, o ang wala pa sa iyo. Battle mode ulit, kumbaga.

Madalas sumagi sa isip ko ang principle of “detachment” itong rainy weekend na ito. Noon ko pa ito naririnig, pero parang ngayon ko lang yata naiintindihan at natatanggap. Ang realization ko, hindi yata ako magiging masaya kung masyado kong idinidikit ang kaligayahan ko sa isang outcome o isang bagay. Parang mas mahirap yatang maging masaya kung masyado mong ginugusto ang isang tao o isang bagay. You cling to it too tightly, na kadalasan, hindi na siya nagiging enjoyable. Bakit? Your motivation changes from love or happiness, to selfishness and fear. Anything you do or say that is motivated by selfishness and fear will just make you miserable. At the same time, I think you also miss out on the detours where God wants to take you. Pero kung “detached” ka, meaning, sa isang kindat ay kaya mong bitawan o iwanan ang isang tao o bagay, hindi mo na uubusin ang panahon at energy mo sa paghawak dito. You love and appreciate him/her/it habang naririyan siya sa buhay mo. Kapag nawala, you say thank you, goodbye and move on. Natapos na ang chapter niya/nito sa buhay mo, you move on to the next.

Sa totoo lang, ako ay hirap sa konsepto ng “letting go”. Tamang-tama ang pagkakakilala sa akin ni Olivs – lumulubog na ang barko, kadalasan e ayoko pang tumalon. Pero, naisip ko, sometimes, what you need to do to make it in life is let go. One can’t cling too tightly to one’s visions of love and success. Not to say, hindi ka na dapat umasa, not to say you shouldn’t have a direction in life (e, major katangahan din naman iyon) or be prepared. Pero, dapat siguro ay magkaroon ka ng abilidad na maging flexible sa buhay, na maging masaya at appreciative no matter what.

Ang sabi nga, focus on the journey, not the destination. Mahirap gawin ng taong katulad ko, na nasanay sa mga measurable at quantifiable goals. Pero, dapat siguro ay tandaan na hindi lang iisa ang yardstick of success at happiness sa buhay. It’s not just in the kind and amount of toys you are able to possess, it’s also how you change as a person. It’s not just how closely you fit the world’s definition of success and happiness, it’s how much you are able to create your own definition, and strive towards its completion.

Life Is (Still) Beautiful (Kahit Maraming Buwisit)

2007-08-06T10:28:00.000-07:00

Ako’y nabubuwisit itong gabing ito.

Medyo napaaga yata ang aking pagsusungit, dahil malayo-layo pa ang aking monthly bwisitor … pero, ewan ko ba, mukhang nagpapatong-patong lang yata ang mga bagay-bagay … I’d like to think na mahaba ang pasensiya ko, pero sa totoo lang, at this point, gusto ko yatang iumpog ang ulo ko sa bato … o mang-upak ng tao!

Nagsimula yata ang asar ko sa aking kotse, na humingi na naman ng kickback noong isang linggo (O, pansinin mo naman me! yata ang isinisigaw sa akin!). Bakit ba itong kotse ko’ng ito e napakahilig magpadala sa pagawaan kung kailan (1) May dumarating na extra-ordinary cashflow; o (2) Paubos na ang cashflow ko at malapit pa ang sweldo (in this case, it’s case # 2). Pero pasalamat na lang ako’t spark plug lang ang dapat palitan! At may na-meet pa ako na napakabait na mama, na may napakalaking catering business (wow, potential business contact ba ini?), at interesting ang buhay (isa siyang political detainee noong panahon ni MaCoy. Yes, ganoon katagal inabot ang paggawa ng kotse namin, kaya’t ang haba-haba-haba-haba ng naging usapan namin!). Natanong ko nga kung kilala niya iyong isang kakilala ko (who shall remain nameless) na kaopisina ko dati, at isa ring political detainee (if I’m not mistaken, konektado yata siya sa pagiging Peg Leg ni Nonoy Z.)

I think nafru-frustrate na naman ako sa aking cashflow, dahil heto at papalapit na ang suweldo – paubos na ang budget, pero parang walang katapusan ang mga gastusin … MERALCO, PLDT, MWSS, Sky Cable, etc., etc. Parang minsan e naiisip kong ang umaandar lang yata sa buhay ko ay ang metro ng gastos, ewan ko ba. Kangina ay may oportunidad ako na magkaroon ng sosy cellphone (supposedly e pa-thank you yata – o, bayad ba? - sa isa sa mga project na na-involve ako) … kaso, ang sabit, kailangan kong mag-avail ng mahal (para sa akin) na cellphone plan. Kahit gustong-gusto kong patulan, in the end, nag-no thanks ako dahil unang-una ay P1,500 extra gastos sa household expenses (hindi puwede at ang daming darating na gastos! LTO, car insurance, manganganak ang aso, may life insurance, health insurance …). Saka, ano naman ang gagawin ko sa P1,500 worth of text and calls? E, P300 nga lang ngayon, hirap na hirap na akong ubusin … pero, kahit pa. Nafru-frustrate ako, ewan ko ba.

I need cash, cash, CASH! Kailan ba ako magiging milyonarya ...

Minsan – katulad ngayon – nakakabuwisit na maging single girl na ang dami-raming dapat intindihin. Minsan, ang sarap mag-imagine na kaya ko’ng gawin ang ginagawa ng iba kong mga kasamahan sa trabaho – na kayang-kayang gumastos sa mga kung ano-anong bagay na hindi man lang umaaray – necessities AND wants? No problemo! - designer bags, clothes, big cars, bubong ng bahay na halos isang milyon … Kaso, wala pa ako sa puntong iyon, kaya tiis-tiis.

Excuse me, ha, kailangan ko yatang magmura – punyeta! Kailan ba ako makakahinga sa mga lintek na bills na ito?!

At ito yata ang PINAKA-dahilan kung bakit ang init-init ng ulo ko. Kasi, ano ba naman at napakadalas ko’ng makasagap ng stalker sa cellphone ko? Nakaka-3 na yata ako in two months. Parang, ano ba naman ang mga tao sa Pilipinas? Wala ba’ng magawa sa buhay, kaya’t ang main goal ay ang mambulahaw? Josko. Ang aga-aga manggising, ang gabi-gabi mag-text. Hindi ba obvious na kapag hindi sumasagot ay ayaw makipagkilala? Na ayaw maging sexm8? Punyeta, makulit na, hindi pa marunong mag-spell ng tama, Problema ko pa ba kung “boring” ang buhay ng stalker, at kailangan ko’ng i-entertain? Nilalagnat at hinihika ka na nga, tapos mga ganyang kaek-ekan pa ang mambubulahaw?

Hay.

Paging our politicians – yoohoo, gumawa naman kayo ng batas laban sa mga ganitong klaseng ka-eng-eng-an, parang awa na!

Pero, teka, teka. Hinga-hinga nang malalim. Remember what your friend told you!!!!!

Mga dalawang linggo na ang nakaraan ay nakipag-reunion ako sa isang kaeskuwela ko noong college ako. Super-excited ako, kasi imagine, seventeen years ko na siyang hindi nakikita! Ilalagay ko nga sana sa blog ko ang picture namin, kaso nahihiya naman ang aking kaibigan, dyahe raw (which is ironic, dahil nagmomodel-model-an itong kaibigan kong ito).

Nakakatuwa itong kaeskuwela ko na ito. Kasi, kahit na noong college kami ay nagsusulatan kami (yes, snail mail!), never naging super-lalim ang aming kuwentuhan sa isa’t isa. Pero, noong nagkita kami, parang na-condense naming ang aming life experiences (seventeen years’ worth) sa loob ng isang hapon. At nai-share din naming sa isa’t isa ang pananaw namin sa buhay.

Hindi ko na ikukuwento ang detalye ng buhay niya (though I must say, naiisip ko na kung paano gawing script ang buhay niya, hahahaha), pero sobrang lalim, sobrang importante ng sinabi niya sa akin. Sabi niya sa akin, never take anything for granted, kasi puwedeng mawala ang lahat sa iyo in an instant. Kitang-kita sa mga kilos at salita niya kung paano niya ito pinaninindigan. Talagang isinasabuhay niya talaga ang pananaw na ito. Saan ba kayo nakakita ng isang tao na kahit hindi naman kayo super-close ay may “Take care” at “Drive carefully” sa mga text message? Kung ganito siya ka-appreciative sa mga hindi niya ka-close naman, wow, can you imagine kung gaano pa sa mga pamilya ang close, close friends and loved ones niya? Ang galing, 'di ba.

Sabi niya rin sa akin, noong isa sa mga crisis moments ng buhay niya, kung may isa lang siyang regret sa buhay, iyon ay ang hindi niya nasabi sa mommy niya na mahal niya ito. Kaya’t noong nalampasan niya ang crisis na iyon, ay iyon nga ang ginawa niya.

Sa totoo lang, sobra ako’ng apektado sa kuwento niya, na diretso kuwento agad sa nanay ko ang mga pangyayari. At palagay ko’y apektado rin siya, because we did something that we’ve never done before – and that was tell each other “I love you.” Sa wakas! Sa totoo lang, ito ay noon ko pa iniisip gawin. Kaso, never naman kaming naging very sentimental/touchy-feely ng nanay ko, so hanggang imagination ko lang ito. Somehow, lagi kong naiisip na dapat ko itong gawin habang may panahon pa na magkasama kami ng nanay ko ... kaso, hina ng loob, e! But, finally, e nagawa nga namin. So, thanks, Lito! Kung hindi sa iyo, hindi kami siguro magkakaroon ng lakas ng loob ng nanay ko na sabihin ang “I love you” sa isa’t isa! :-)

At sabi rin nga pala ni Lito, ang mga bagay-bagay sa buhay ay pinagdedesisyunan. Everything in life is a choice. It all depends on your attitude. And that, I totally agree with.

So, ano nga ba ang point ko?

Sa gabing ito, ako’y buwisit na buwisit … pero, salamat na lang, kasi kahit papaano ay may lessons pa rin naman akong nakikita sa telenovela ng buhay ko. (Dahil kung wala ay baka naloka na ako!)

Tulad ng sa gastos – isipin ko na lang siguro, dahil dito, nagkakaroon ng dahilan ang lahat ng mga paghihirap ko sa trabaho. Why do I strive so hard to make it in this field? Hindi naman siguro para payamanin pa ang mga nagmamay-ari ng mga punyetang (oops, ‘di ko talaga matiis) kumpanya na ito. I work hard to earn money to give my family a comfortable life.

Hopefully na lang (before I die, perhaps?) ay darating ang puntong hindi na ako magdurusa masyado everytime the bills come.

As for those cell-stalkers, well, siguro isipin ko na lang, mabuti’t sila na lang ang mga sira-ulong walang magawa sa buhay. Sila na lang, kaysa ako, ano! May dahilan ako para mag-strive na gawing maayos at maganda ang buhay ko – at least 7 reasons – my mom, my aunt, my dogs. Kung isasama ko pa ang mga kaibigan ko, wow, at least 100 reasons siguro!

Naiisip ko lang – hindi ko maiwasan minsan na ikumpara ang attitude ni Lito (at attitude ko rin – well, at least half of the time, kung hindi ako nagngangangawa) sa attitude ng mga ibang tao riyan. May ibang tao, katulad ni Lito, na muntik na’ng nawala ang lahat sa kanya – pero, heto at thriving and surviving pa rin, napaka-positive ng attitude sa buhay. Iyong isang boss ko, noong bata siya, kulang na lang daw ay isanla ang yero sa bahay nila para may makain sila, but wow, look at him now! Napaka-successful sa field niya. May ibang tao riyan (tulad ng mga cell-stalkers), na sa palagay ko’y maraming puwedeng gawin (bukod sa mag-ubos ng cellphone load at mambuwisit), pero hayan at sinasayang ang buhay. Gising, gising!

Tingin ko lang, kahit ano’ng estado natin sa buhay, responsibilidad natin to make the most of our lives. Hindi ko sinasabing dapat e maging perfect tayo, o hindi magreklamo, pero ang ipaglaban palagi ang ating buhay. Fight to create the best life for ourselves and our loved ones. Kasi, iisa lang ang buhay natin. Though, sometimes, it feels like a curse, come to think of it, HAVING a life is a privilege and a gift.

Ako, naiisip ko, ilang kindat na lang at kuwarenta na ako – kung hindi ako agad mamamatay, aba’t halos fifty percent na pala nng aking panahon ang nauubos ko! Josko. Sana, sana lang ay magamit ko nang maayos ang natitira kong panahon!

Meeting David Pomeranz, One Of My All-Time Fave Songwriters!

2007-07-19T10:45:00.000-07:00

Josko. Ako pala’y marunong din ma-starstruck!

Sa dinami-dami ng mga artistang nakikita ko kung saan ako nagtratrabaho, never pa akong na-starstruck … kaya, sa totoo lang, hindi ako makapaniwalang dinayo ko pa ang SM Megamall para lang mapanood ang isa sa mga hari ng Hopeless Romantic na tulad ko … sino pa?

(Roger, my love, drumroll please!)

Si DAVID POMERANZ!

(Okay, Beckay, puwede ka na’ng magrorolyo ng mata … Steph, naduduwal ka na ba sa kabaduyan ko? Olivs, sounds family ito, ‘di ba?)

E, ano ngayon kung alas-singko y medya na at nasa SM North pa rin ako, at alas-sais ng gabi ang album launch sa SM Megamall? E, ano ngayon kung rush hour traffic ang sasabakin ko? E, ano ngayon kung 25th pa ang payday?

Ay, basta. Sugurin ang traffic ng Edsa! Bumili ng CD!

Bakit ko gusto ang mga kanta ni David Pomeranz? Actually, hindi naman ako fan ng lahat ng songs niya. But some of his songs, talagang love na love ko. Why? Kasi (sa maniwala ka’t sa hindi, Beckay), ang mga kanya niya, may pagka-storytelling ang dating. Maganda ang hagod ng melody, maganda ang lyrics, laging may laman. Kung hindi ka man maka-relate sa experience/emotion ng song, you still end up empathizing somewhat. Hindi tulad ng mga ibang kanta riyan (tulad ng hate na hate ko na “If you touch me like this, and I touch you like that … ano nga ba’ng title noon? “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now?” Puwede ko’ng iumpog ang ulo ko sa bato).

Ang pinaka-gusto ko sa mga songs niya, iyong “Tryin’ To Get The Feeling,” “If You Walked Away,” saka “The Truth Of Us” … ay, parang nilagay ang puso mo sa blender! Parang iyong isang kanta ni Josh Groban (“Alejate” nga ba iyon?) na kapag narinig mo, gusto mong isuot ang ulo mo sa umaandar na oven. Kumbaga, it’s so good to feel sooo bad ba.

Iyong mga ganyang kanta ang classic – parang mga kanta ni Sir Elton John noong kabataan niya, like “Your Song” … great melody, great lyrics… saka ayos na ayos sa sentimental na tao, tulad nga ng mga Pinoy.

Anyway …

Mukhang pinagbigyan ako ng Diyos, dahil wow, record-time ang bilis ng pag-drive ko mula SM North patungong SM Megamall. As in, less than half an hour through rush hour traffic! At nakahanap pa ako ng super-gandang location ng upuan (second row lang naman!). Talagang umiral yata ang pagka-tiyani, dahil sa halaga ng isang CD ay makakapanood ka na ng mini-concert! (Wala rin kasing magtitiyagang samahan ako sa concert niya, kaya kailangan talagang patulan ang opportunity!).

Beckay, naaalala mo ba iyong katabi natin sa INXS concert na wala sa timing pumalakpak? Well, ganoon din ang katabi ko sa mini-concert … at wala pa sa timing mag-comment (may topak?!).

Medyo nakaka-off na ang backdrop ng stage ni David ay mga product poster, ha … I mean, naman. Ito lang naman ang songwriter ng “Tryin’ To Get The Feeling” ni Barry Manilow. Bigyan naman ninyo ng dignidad! Ba’t naman itatabi sa product poster ng pizza, ano?! But, I guess, wala tayong magagawa sa backdrop dahil mall tour nga (wala naman tayo sa PICC, kaya over na siguro ang humingi pa ng ambience!).

Anyway … so, lumabas na nga sa wakas si David Pomeranz!

At tulad ng mga nabasa ko, kuhang-kuha ni David ang “kiliti” ng Pinoy … sa totoo lang, kung hindi mo alam na Jewish American from New York itong si David e maiisip mong Pinoy na Pinoy siya. Mabilis siyang nakapag-establish ng rapport sa audience (na umabot hanggang fifth level ‘ata ng mall). Mabiro kasi, walang kaere-ere (parang si Barry Manilow rin). Puwede mo nga’ng iitsa ito sa karaoke bar, at magmumukhang ordinaryong turista, kasi naka-black shirt and jeans lang siya. You’d never think this is one guy who’s worked with the likes of Barry Manilow, Kenny Loggins, Noel Pointer (? Tama nga ba? Basta, nasa website niya iyong credentials – http://www.davidpomeranz.com).

Ang nagustuhan ko kay David Pomeranz, kitang-kita mo (well, kitang-kita ko, kasi nasa second row nga ako), na kapag kumanta siya ay bigay-todo ang emotions niya. As in, makikita mo kapag naluluha-luha siya sa pag-emote after a song (nope, hindi pawis, at nope, hindi naman siguro dahil magkakaroon na siya ng katarata sa mata!). Hanga rin ako na kahit ten million times na niya sigurong kinanta ang mga “oldies” niya, tulad ng “King and Queen Of Hearts” e hindi pa rin siya nangingisay sa ka-boring-an. At buong-buo pa rin ang boses, ha. Parang hindi tumanda!

Saka, nakakatuwa rin na tumatawid across generations ang mga kanya niya. Maraming gurang, papunta na sa middle age (tulad ko), at may twenty-somethings, teens, at mga tsikiting!

Nakakatuwa rin nga pala na bumaba siya sa stage to dance with one of the ladies in the audience, when he sang that song J

Mga isang oras din inabot ang kanyang mini-concert, and I’m happy to report that he sang one of my all-time favorites, “If You Walked Away” (iyong orig ha, hindi iyong remake with Sharon Cuneta!). Pagkatapos noon ay nag-autograph signing/meet and greet na.

Actually, may bitbit akong camera … kaso, naalala ko nga magbitbit ng camera, nalimutan ko naming bumili ng bagong baterya! Hay, lintek. Kaya’t salamat sa SM, na nagpicture-picture sa mga walang dalang camera.

Alam ninyo, galing din ng nakaisip ng raket na ito, ha. Puwede kayong magpa-picture with David Pomeranz, and you’ll get the photo almost instantly – for forty pesos! Grabe, talo pa ang Foto-Me sa bilis! Ah, the wonders of technology!

Dahil ako’y isa ngang hopeless optimist, kahit na alam kong may meeting ako ay binitbit ko pa rin ang aking walang-kamatayang cassette tape ng kanyang album, “The Truth Of Us,” na sa totoo lang ay lampas beinte-singko anyos na! As in, grade five pa lang ako sa Siena, nasa collection ko na ito! At ito ang isa sa mga napakadalas kong pinapakinggan, gamit ng aking Walkman, na regalo sa akin ng tatay ko (ilang “A” rin sa report card ang binuno ko, para maregaluhan ako nito!).

So, pila ako, ‘di ba. I was almost sure what his reaction would be, once makita niya iyong cover ng cassette tape. Iyong assistant nga niya (from the record company malamang) e napapangiti nga, e. Then, discreetly inilagay ni Mr. Assistant sa ilalim ng CD cover ng latest CD niya.

And as expected – react nga si David Pomeranz sa aking very, very “vintage” tape! As in, napa-“Oh, wow!” At mukhang ang “Oh, wow!” ay magkahalong gulat, amusement, embarrassment at pleasure.

“I’ve had that for twenty-five years,” sabi ko sa kanya.

So, mukhang happily naman ay pinirmahan niya ang CD cover at ang cassette tape cover. Hindi niya alam kung saan maganda I-place iyong signature niya sa cassette tape cover (laki ng pentel pen niya, e) … so, I said, at first, “Anywhere you want,” pero sa huli, suggested, sa gilid.

May “Thanks, Renny!” pa akong nakuha after the picture-taking at hand-shake ekek!

So, iyon ang aking encounter with one of my all-time favorite songwriters, David Pomeranz! Haynaku, Olivs, naaalala ko tuloy noong na-meet natin si Kenny Loggins (bago bumalandra si Martin Nievera, pwe!). Parang nai-imagine ko na na kung magkasama tayo ay itutulak mo rin ako papunta sa harap ng stage para magpa-autograph, hahahaha.

Heto ang mga gusto ko’ng makunan ng autograph in my lifetime:

Duran Duran (Roger Taylor ang numero uno, siyempre! Puwede na rin ba’ng mag-apply na kapalit ni Wife Number Two? Payag na rin akong baker/cook!)
Sir Elton John
Kenny Loggins (ulit – dahil nawala ko na ang signed ticket ko)
Michael McDonald
Barry Manilow (mayroon na ako, pero gusto ko in person ko makuha)
Stephen Schwartz
Sir Paul McCartney
U2
Michael Tomlinson
Sarah Maclachlan

Haaaay! Sana Duran Duran naman sa SM next time! Kahit si Roger lang! Hope springs eternal!

I Love My Dogs

2007-07-07T10:18:00.001-07:00

Haaay. My dogs. I love my dogs!

Kung kapatid ang turing ko sa mga kaibigan ko, kapatid din ang turing ko sa mga kasama naming mga dogs sa bahay.

Si Vice ang kinikilalang Top Dog dito sa house. Mukhang pinaninindigan niya ang name niya (political figure, ergo, mala-don!) – sa lahat yata ng mga naging pet dog dito sa bahay, siya ang pinaka-sosyal. Saan ba naman kayo nakakita ng dog na kumakatok sa kuwarto, para maki-aircon? At alam na alam niyang pagpatak ng gabi e hindi siya ang magbabantay, kungdi ang mga alipores niya? “I’m the king of this household, therefore, I’m the indoor dog!” Parang ganoon ba ang dating niya. Kahit anong pambobola, panunuhol, pagmamakaawa ang gawin ko (isama na rin natin ang literal na pagbibibitbit at pag-iitsa) ay wa epek. Siya rin ang mahilig mahiga sa mga sofa rito habang kumakain ng kung ano mang snack of the moment ang makuha niya sa amin. Nabanggit ko na ba’ng puwedeng manalo ng Best Actor Award ang aso kong ito? Kapag alam niyang may goodie e iiral na ang kanyang Best Actor mode. “Oh, woe-is-me, I’m so hungry for a tidbit! Penge na, cute naman ako, e! Sige na!”

SIGE NA NGA.

At salbahe, ha! Minsan ba naman ay nakita kong literally ay hinila ni Vice ang mat sa ilalim ng natutulog niyang si Pilot (more about him later). Sutil, ha.

At noong gustong makipag-lovey-dovey ay kagatin at hilahin ba naman ang buntot ng kanyang biktima, este, object of affection? Aba’y may plano ka bang maging rapist, pare?!

Kapag nag-gro-grocery shopping ako, at least 1 loaf e napupunta rito kay Best Actor … este, Vice … at ang mga alipores niya. Malas ko na lang, nagmana sa katakawan ko ang mga pets namin.

May dalawang girl dog sa "harem" ni Vice. Si Maldita/Lamparot (short for “Lampang Maharot”), saka si Dainty. Why Maldita? Kasi, noong bata si Maldita e maldita nga. Suwapang to the max pagdating sa pagkain! Ang alternative name niya, Lamparot, kasi nga lampang maharot. Wala kasing joint iyong isa niyang leg, kaya lampa maglakad (though, man, ang bilis tumakbo! Lydia de Vega!). Medyo may confusion nga siya sa identity niya, kasi sa dami-dami ng pangalang itinawag namin sa kanya (other than Maldita, Lamparot, mayroon pang Ditas ang Ditse, at kung ano-ano pa!)

Dapat siguro ay "Hoy" na lang ang ipinangalan namin, kasi sa totoo lang, clueless siya kapag tinatawag namin.

Si Dainty naman, kasi dainty-looking. Maliit kasi. Sobrang liit nga, prompting Steph’s hubby, Chris, to ask me one time … “Ganyan siya talaga kaliit?” Punggok ba. Dainty rin ang name, kasi noong puppy pa siya, naka-cross lagi ang front paws niya kapag nakaupo (mahinhin ... kunyari!).

Si Lamparot, ito lang ang aso na kilala kong marunong mangalabit. As in, kalabit kapag gutom, kalabit kapag gusto magpahagod. Surprisingly e malambing, kasi noong puppy ito e dead-ma lang. Pero, for some strange reason, bumait sa akin pagkatapos kong dalhin sa vet (muntik na siyang sumalangit nawa dahil sa Parvo/distemper). Lagi iyang naka-istasyon sa may hagdanan, or sa sofa (kaawa-awang sofa!). Si Dainty naman, iyong buntot, parang rotary spring umikot (not like Vice, na parang sinaunang pluma ng pen ni Jose Rizal). Ewan kung bakit hindi lumago (nabansot din?). Siya naman ang pinaka … erm … productive (or should I say, reproductive?). Kasi, ang dami na niyang naging anak, considering dainty nga.

Of course, that speaks volumes about Vice’s deadly aim and reproductive skills! Bingo each time! Sex god!

Ang junior naman ni Vice ay si Pilot. Pilot, kasi ang tail niya, ‘pag umikot, parang elisi ng helicopter. Siya naman ang politician ng canine family namin. Napaka-karinyoso! Kahit isang kindat na lang e tulog na siya, kapag nakita niya kami, wag pa rin ang tail, hala sige! Bansot saka ang lusog-lusog, kaya mukhang naglalakad na trosong mabuhok. Walking carpet, hahahaha. Ang style ng pagpapakyut niya, bite-bite sa kamay or paa ... mabuti't may rabies shots!

Medyo fini-figure out ko pa kung paano ko siya matuturuang i-overcome ang takot niya sa hagdanan namin. Noong puppy kasi siya, na-stuck siya sa may kalagitnaan, natakot bumaba, hanggang ma-wee-wee sa hagdanan, ayun, trauma!

At kailangan rin nga palang matuto mag-wee-wee na parang binata, kasi e squat ang alam niya! (Bakit kaya?!)

Lahat ng mga dogs namin, spoiled sa Ditse. Grabe! Pinahihiga ng Ditse sa kama niya! At kinakatok sa kuwarto kapag gutom na sila (akala yata sa Ditse e diwata ng kusina). Lahat din sila, ginawang higaan at paanakan ang sofa (naku, kailangang kumita nang makapagpalit na ng bagong set!). Lahat din sila, alas, takot sa pusa. NGEK na NGEK talaga. As in, nakita ko minsan ang BUONG HUKBO na tumakbo – u-turn pabalik ng bahay, with matching “awoo!” dahil nagtaray ang isang pusa. At hindi lang minsan na nakipagtarayan ang mga aso ko sa kapitbahay nilang aso … only to hide behind my mom’s legs. “Ano? Kaya mo ako? Heto ang lola ko, kaya mo iyan? Ha? Ha?!”

Pero, kahit pa ganyan ang mga dogs namin, love na love ko ang mga iyan. Never mind na kinayod na ang pinto naming narra at ang mga sofa at table namin. Hayaan mo nang pasaway sa bathtime, at makikipaghabulan ka pa sa gupitan ng kuko. Nothing beats the love and attention coming from them – iyong kapag nasa harap na ng gate ang kotse mo ay nakasilip na sila sa ilalim ng gate, at iyong ‘pag nakita ka e akala mo nanalo ng lotto. At iyong ‘pag nakita ka sa hagdanan e sinasalubong ka – parang, “Why, hellooooo there! I missed you!” Samantalang araw-araw naman na ginawa ng Diyos e nakikita ka nila.

Hayaan mo nang mahal ang magpa-vet! Basta, love ko sila.

Waxing Nostalgic Baga

2007-07-06T09:32:00.000-07:00

Ilang araw na ako’ng stuck sa kuwarto ko, dahil sa flu. E, wala na palang “Oprah” sa Studio 23, wala na ring “The Angry Beavers” sa Nickelodeon, so DVD marathon muna ako. Since feeling nostalgic ako, ang minarathon ko, isa doon sa mga anime series na pinabili ko from my friend, Naomi.

Remember Mazinger Z? Or, should I say, Mazing-gah-ZEEEEEE! (Gayahin natin iyong pag-pronounce noong kumakanta ng Japanese theme song, hehe). Iyon ang pinagpipistahan ko ngayon.

Grabe, totoo yata ang selective amnesia, dahil habang pinapanood ko ang mga episodes, ngayon ko nari-realize, NGEK! Bakit ko ba ito pinapanood noong bata ako, e ang swangit-swangit pala?!

Kumpara sa ibang anime ngayon, lalabas na kawawa si Mazinger Z. Kasi, simpleng-simple ang animation. Dated ang drama. Mabagal to the max ang story. Ipakita mo ito sa mga bata ngayon, baka ibalibag sa iyo ang DVD player, sa totoo lang.

But as with all things nostalgic, kahit corny o swangit to the max e nakakatuwa pa rin. Tuwang-tuwa ako sa theme song, ewan ko ba (gigil na gigil kasi iyong singer sa kanyang pagma-Mazing-gah-ZEEEEEEE! Kulang na lang e hintayin mong magka-hernia siya … or tumalsik ang kanyang laway … shades of Emong de la Eeech!).

Saka si Aphrodite A! Iyong “gf” ni Mazinger Z! Grabe. Saan ka ba naman nakakita ng robot na boobs ang missiles? Kaawa-awang nilalang – aba’y sitting duck, ano? Pero, nakakaaliw siya, ewan ko ba. Like I said, nostalgia trip nga, kaya mababaw ang kaligayahan.

Also got to view one episode of “Mekanda Robot” last night … ay, inakupo. Isa pang nuno ng kalumaang anime! Ewan ko kung bakit, pero ang pangit ng hitsura niya, ha … parang pinaghalong Princess Leia, Hopia at chopsticks si Mekanda Robot (mabuti-buti pa si Mazinger Z, madibdib at matipunong radiator!).

Speaking of madibdib at matipuno … kasama sa nostalgia trip ko this week ang “Saturday Night Fever”. Haaaay. Grabe! Si John Travolta! Sure, nakakapangilabot ang mga outfit niya sa kanyang movie (nakakawalang-gana ang takong sa sapatos niya, ha. At ang fitting na pantalon, with matching silk shirt – eeeew!) … pero, josme. Ang guwapo pala! Makalaglag-panty with matching U-turn! Kahalay-halay pala talaga!

Speaking of kahalay-halay naman, got to see my favorite Sex God (helloooo, Roger!) in “Concert For Diana” in Star World a few days ago. As in, gumising ako nang maaga para mapanood ang live feed, at pinaspasan ko ang pag-uwi para maabutan ko ang replay! Nag-perform ang Gurang Gurang … este, Duran Duran … second only to the grand opening act (si Sir Elton John lang naman! Galing ng mga Gurang, ‘di ba?). At sina Prince William at Prince Harry pa ang nag-introduce sa kanila, say ‘nyo naman (“…one of our mother’s favorite bands …”)!

Ise-selective amnesia ko na ang wedding ring ni Roger (huhuhu – TAKSIL!), ang hitsura ni John (nagsuklay ka naman sana, pare!) … pero hindi ko malilimutan ang na-discover ko na Pinoy pala si Simon … na kamag-anak yata ni Brosia (sabi niya kasi, “Un, dus, tris, kuwatru!”)