I Cried On Stage

Nothing beats a good melody interspersed with meaningful lyrics. Songs that can stand the test of time that even young and old alike enjoy listening to repeatedly. Songs that is universal in its appeal yet crossover different genres and still touch the hearts and minds of its listeners. Very few of these songs exist.

My father had a good singing voice like some of my uncles, his brothers. Papa’s singing was not that spectacular but he had a way of enunciating the words and letting the melody roll almost effortlessly that can make you stay and listen. From that moment, I began training myself how to sing properly. I listened to the greats and tried to imitate their style down to a T. It was an unsuccessful attempt at first with my own mother as my greatest critic. I endeavored to improve but was never even chosen for glee in elementary and high school. This challenged me to improve myself further until friends and relatives began taking notice. But I never let it go to my head. My belief has always been that there is always room for improvement. I am happy, for I’ve learned and found my own voice. I may not be that great a singer, but I am confident that I can carry a tune.

My very first public performance was during a company family outing. My father was the one who encouraged me to sing in front of the entire company of his peers. I was only twelve or thirteen years old that time. As a tribute, I chose to sing his favorite song, Steve Lawrence’s version of “The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me,” which I know by heart. As the melody began to play and the initial applause of the crowd rang, the unthinkable happened. I froze, and forgot the lyrics. Panic struck me as about four hundred pairs of eyes of my father’s officemates, officers, executives, and their families were all on me.

The band looped the intro as I blankly turned to my back to look at the bandleader as he signaled with a nod for the proper time for me to begin singing. I know when and where to come in, but the words were jumbled in my head that I could not even let out one note. They looped the intro a third time and this time, my father sensing something wrong, stood up, grabbed the microphone from my hand and began singing “his” song. I was so embarrassed by that episode that I wanted to flee the stage right there and then but my father held on to my shoulder as he continued singing. I eventually made up for that embarrassing faux pas years later, when I already had enough confidence and experience, and learned how to control my stage fright. I sang for that same crowd each time there was an official company function. Every time I go up on stage, I blank the crowd out except for my father, wherever he was seated, and sang my songs as if I was singing only to him.

“Feel when you sing.” My father always said to me each time I practiced at home. “It doesn’t matter what type of songs you sing, but feel what the song is trying to convey and make your audience feel that.” I took that to heart and felt sad when I sing a sad ballad, angry when I belt out an angry pop or rock song, jolly and playful when I sing happy tunes.

Years later, my father was diagnosed by his doctors and found he had a tumor on his brain. His surgeon gave a very high survival rate if he undergoes surgery the soonest time possible. The tumor was situated on top of the brain, not inside it. He survived the procedure but he had to undergo a series of twelve cobalt treatments, one to be administered every month to ensure that the tumor will not return and kill off any of its remnants. But unknown to us, he underwent only three treatments and stopped. In three years time, his tumor returned and was more virulent. He underwent a second craniotomy but he never got out of his coma after a week in the Intensive Care Unit. His doctors told me that normally, only two to three days was needed to return and wake up after such a major operation. I should know because during his first operation, it took him only a few hours to wake up and I immediately tested him if he had any memory loss, which I find were all-intact. When the doctors told me that if he does not come out of his coma soon, his chances of surviving would be grim as he was becoming more dependent on the machines that was keeping him alive. The fateful moment came when the doctors announced that he was already brain dead. I was with him in the ICU all that time, not even going home for a proper rest after more than a week in the hospital. I demanded that they leave the machines on in case a miracle will be given us at that point. It never came. It was painful but I had to accept it was God’s will, and it was truly his time to go.

I requested a few moments alone with my father before the doctors finally turned off the machines. I whispered my goodbyes to him as I held his hand. Then I softly sang his favorite song to his ear. Brain dead or not, a tear fell from my papa’s eye as I was about to come to the song’s end. I knew right then and there that he heard me. I was still hoping at that point that he would show me a sign that he was going to survive. But no, he was already gone. My mother and a cousin came a few minutes late upon his official time of passing.

Over a year after, I was asked to perform two songs at our annual office Christmas party. Once more, I stood in front of the same people as I did when I was a kid. I decided to sing two Gary Valenciano songs that night but after the first song, I noticed it failed to connect with the audience based on their polite applause. So I decided to drop the other prepared song, and decided instead to risk it by singing Boy Katindig’s “I Will Always Stay In Love This Way” in the original style of Baron Barbers. Good thing the band knows the song and is part of their repertoire. This song has since been covered by artists such as Side A, Luke Mejares, Nina, Lea Salonga and as of late, Jed Madela.

“Feel when you sing.” My father’s voice echoed in my head as the piano intro began and as I sat on a high stool. That time I was in pain for losing yet another battle to unrequited love. I was in the proper frame of mind to sing that song. When suddenly, that familiar sense of panic from my initial outing surged through my body. No! I will not allow this to ruin the moment. I took a deep breath as my cue was about to start. Instinct automatically took over and I blocked out the audience except for two whom I imagined was in the crowd. My father and that person whom I was yearning for.

By the third phrase and a key change near the end of the song, I felt tears welling from my eyes. I sensed my voice was about to crack because of the surge of mixed emotions flowing through me. The pain knowing my father was not truly there and the anguish of losing yet another special someone to somebody else. My breathing was off from the effort of not letting my tears fall in front of the audience. I stood up as I went to the fourth “I will always stay this way in love with you” and pointed the mic to the audience as a cue for them to sing with me. They did. As the audience sang, I turned my back, let my tears fall, did a quick wipe, signaled the pianist to do four more bars and a cut. In the few seconds of silence, I crooned the last line. I confess that was not one my best performance, but it was well received nonetheless. Later that evening I was asked to sing two more songs.

Thank you Papa for the inspiration and I miss you. And thank you, you the cause of my hurt back then. So sorry that you got dumped after barely three months with that somebody you chose over me. Because of you, I now have a deeper well to draw from when I sing a sad love song.

Click on title links below to hear the songs:

Steve Lawrence The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me

Boy Katindig I Will Always Stay In Love This Way with Baron Barbers on vocals

NR-01202010

Ninoy Aquino Parks & Wildlife

When I get bored to my guts and really wanted to have some peace and quiet or just want a change of scene, I just step out of the house and trek anywhere within the OLD FORT BONIFACIO. I just grab a book and read away under almost century old acacia trees. Just me, my book, under a tree, sometimes atop its branches, while a cool and gentle zephyr blows. But ever since "development" of THE FORT and the coming of modern structures, the natural ambiance and serenity of the place vanished along with the trees and endemic wildlife. Gone is the peace and quiet, leaving only bits and patches of "untouched" land as you see in the picture below.

An almost century old acacia tree still left untouched in Fort Bonifacio today

But, now that tall edifices replaced the once tree laden FORT, I go back to Ninoy Aquino Parks & Wildlife in Quezon City. It has been a while since I last visited this park. For those on a budget, both time and money, the park is a quick getaway for those who want to commune with nature or for those who just wants to sit back and relax, without ever leaving the city. I just hope cities in around the metro with patches of land to spare, can make parks like these for all to enjoy.

Details of Ninoy Aquino Parks & Wildlife

Location: Quezon City
Entrance Price: PhP15/car; PhP8 per person

For first timers. Make sure you fully charge your Digital Cameras and Video Cameras. Bring extra batteries if you have to for there are lots of great vistas wherein you can have photo ops with friends in nature scenes, and with various flora and fauna as backdrops. Coming to the park is far more rewarding in my opinion, to relax by your lonesome, a special someone, or be with friends and/or family while communing with nature other than gallivanting in concrete jungles (READ: Malls).

For those who haven't been to Ninoy Aquino Parks & Wildlife, check out the pictures below. These were all taken inside the park.

Other Write ups:

A refreshing experience of the woods and its wildlife in a safe environment. Quezon City harbors such a place. Ninoy Aquino Parks and Wildlife was started in the mid Martial Law years (late 70s to early 80s). It’s an 80-hectare city forest reserve for woodland and animal life. It is along the Elliptical Road in Diliman, Quezon City, across the Quezon Memorial Circle.

From downtown Manila travel takes, via the España-Quezon Avenue route, some 45 minutes to an hour. Public transportation plying Quiapo to Philcoa or Fairview will never fail to drive past this Philippine tourist spot in Quezon City. It’s right at the very tip of Quezon Avenue right across Kidney Center and Lung Center of the Philippines.

Named “Philippine Parks and Wildlife” in the Marcos administration, it was changed to “Ninoy Aquino Parks and Wildlife” in the reign of President Corazon Aquino. This Philippine tourist spot in Quezon City boasts of a number of caged wild animals and tree and plant species, plus a vast playground, deeply shaded promenades, a man-made lagoon, eatery, huts and cottages, among others.

Lots of school excursions, tourist trips, movie and commercial shooting, and casual visits are scheduled in this Philippine tourist spot in Quezon City. Even health buffs like joggers and volleyball and badminton aficionados frequent it, especially in early mornings. Picnic grooves and huts are best for outdoor meals and helpings are available at the eatery beside the lagoon.

The lagoon is littered with benches at its edges under big tree shades. A sunken amphitheater is at its bank. It is a favorite hang out of lovers, book readers, bonding families, idle visitors, and students rehearsing a drama or concert. Others celebrate religious fellowships there and display public communion with their Creator. The lagoon has an extended covered port where curious visitors can venture farther and nose around for what may be hiding in the lake.

Life activities of men, the wilds, and nature burst with vibrancy at Ninoy Aquino Parks and Wild Life. This wooded haven standing right in the midst of business affords travelers with an accessible Philippine tourist spot in Quezon City.

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NOTE: All photos except THE ACACIA were taken from the Web.
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Food, Glorious Food

I have always been fascinated with food, any food. I am very thankful that I seem to gain little weight no matter how much I consume. There have been times when asked what kind of diet I'm into, my ready reply would be "I'm on a see food diet." Of which people would query, what kind of particular sea food I prefer. And I would correct them immediately in a comical manner: "no you don't understand, you see, I said I'm on a "see food diet", meaning I eat whenever I see food.

Members of my family on my mother side are all good cooks especially the men. Yes, each has their own versions of whatever dishes and oftentimes we would compare whose kaldereta is better, or whose beef stroganoff is too oily, whose salad dressing is too runny, etc. They also have this peculiar knack of turning the lowliest of ingredients into something wonderful. Most of them are not even bought but grown in the backyard.

My mother has this knack of copying food she had sampled in a restaurant. Once she had a taste of something she likes, rest assured that she can recreate the recipe almost perfectly. A talent my sister also seems to have which unfortunately I didn't acquire. I remember one time when I took them out for a Chinese dinner in a restaurant I come to often enough. Actually it was a trick on my part. I have been able to go to different restaurants and hotels in and around the metro because of my line of work and my friends. And when I get to sample something I truly liked from a fancy restaurant or even a turo-turo, I make it a point to bring either my mother or sister, or both back and sample it for themselves. And true enough, a day or two after; they recreate the dish to my delight. But it doesn't stop there, for the next time that dish is prepared, they would have improved on it further making it superior to the original recipe and thus making it their own. As a result, we never run out of guests in our house. A day won’t pass without at least one person who would come and stay for a couple of hours just to say hi. More so if we have a party. That is why, in our household, we may turn all lights off during the night except for the kitchen. The kitchen light is perpetually on, 24/7.

I can never compete with my uncles and cousins especially my mother and sister with regard to food preparation. They all seem to have this tactile ability to cook without even following a specific recipe. I am an outsider of sorts. They have this ability of making even the lowly okra or eggplant taste so good you'll come back for more. Oh yes I can cook but I have to follow a recipe to a T. My food may look and taste good, but they lack personality. One talent I have though is identifying who cooked which food. If presented with adobo or menudo prepared by two or even three family members for example, I can easily identify who prepared which without fail.

This talent made an officemates' wife smile with pride once. She happens to be a wonderful cook. We were on a weekend office outing once. She insists on cooking on site every time we do. As we sat for lunch, hungry from all the swimming we did, I was surprised with one of her offerings. I couldn't believe my tongue, it was good but there is something amiss. I immediately pointed this out to her and said she was not the one who made it. She was surprised but instead of being embarrassed gave a smile and said to her husband, "See, Genkuro knows my cooking." Her husband who happens to be my officemate was surprised himself. It turned out that one of their son's prepared that particular dish. So you see, even if you followed a recipe exactly, it won't be the same and will lack the personality of the original. It will totally be another character; it will assume that of the one who prepared it. It's like an indelible fingerprint capturing every nuance, spirit, love and state of mind of the one cooking the dish. That is the reason why the same dish will taste different coming from different branches of the same restaurant. The same is also true in cocktail and drink preparations.

With so many eateries here in the Philippines, it would be a delight for me to sample everything before I die. One thing I will never try though is dog meat. I love dogs, but love them as companions and not as gastronomic fares. I've had my share of exotic foods before and still do from time to time. I've had monitor lizards (bayawak), different kinds of snakes, beetles, crickets, grasshoppers (balang) and varied exotic sea food usually not sold in the market. I never had or will ever have a taste of something endangered though. I've had my share of the most exorbitantly priced restaurants to the cheapest street food. I've also sampled cuisines that are so fancifully prepared and so good to look at but tasted bland. Some that looks disgusting but burst with flavors so wonderful it made my tongue and palate smack with delight.

If there is one thing I'm good at in food preparation though it is baked goods. The precise preparation and measure is up my alley. I made it into some sort of extra livelihood once. Nobody can get enough of my almond coconut macaroons or my double chocolate cupcakes. But I had to let it go since baking takes a lot of time and I couldn't keep up with the orders, plus I had a full time job. I know there would be a time when I will go back to it again soon. The food business is really profitable if done logistically right.

But no matter how good or palatable food is. I have to agree with Penelope Cruz' character in a movie entitled Woman On Top wherein she says: "... food will taste better especially if you share it with the one you love." In the same breath I add: "It doesn't matter what is on the table for all to share, what matters is who is there with you to share it with."

Tara, kain tayo?