Our Tuesday Night Music Club.

Last night was Alfredogs night, to 4 of us, at least, because the other two travel-happy ones are again out on the road (rather on a plane) to HongKong.

ABD brought along a handful of high school kids and for a while i was happy to see myself in them from 15 years ago. When Keith arrived, i kidded them kids that they'll look exactly like Keith does 15 years from now. I am not sure if the thought horrified them considering that Keith had longish hair and clearly didn't look like anybody doing serious office work. Meanwhile, i looked like a lady pastor, in my skirt and flats, lacking only one heavyweight bible to complete the whole Lady Pastor fashion. Maritess (PSD) was in suspenders and her bangs unevenly cut.

I'm taking back what i said earlier. I'm now sure the kids were horrified. When they get home, each one of them would be swearing he doesn't want to see himself degrade into something like "us" come 15 years.

But ABD kept them happy in mocha and strawberry shakes, and sizzling spicy sausage and mushrooms. (what the hell was i saying here!?) And sent them home about 30 minutes past the agreed send off time. What can we do? The kids were enjoying the reggae band.

I told them to leave early so we can start talking dirty, adult things. And flashed a smile.

Some frustrated Crazy for You singer (may i correct myself: sessionist. Yap, she was JUST a sessionist) thought she was great on stage but the "I see you in the smoking air" did not work. Apparently. We gave half smiles. Frustrated Lady Sessionist (FLS) started calling out for song requests and when no one asked, she chatted with the guitarist as if they were good friends who just bumped into each other on the side and decided to have a small chat. Then when that didn't work, too, because the singer/guitarist didn't want to have small talk on stage, FLS started answering text messages on stage.

Singers who can't tell that something is very very wrong with "I see you in the smoking air" should be put to jail.

And it was a reggae band, for chrissakes. Grow some brain.

Meanwhile, in the next 3 hours i would be continuously blinded by camera flashes from the group of students who thought last night was the best night to take night out photos for facebook. Beeeh. But you could say i was just jealous because my elvis presley camera did not come with a free blinding flash. Whatever. Keith took his camera out and started taking pictures of the candle on our table. Slightly annoyed, i nagged him about wasting precious frames. But my voice was obviously overpowered by the crowd’s and the band’s, and because our Tuesday Night Music Club venue has terrible acoustics.

Then I requested for Santeria because I can’t remember “What I Got’s” title. Today I searched the internet and found “What I Got” in youtube in less than 5 seconds.

“Very violent song,” Keith told me.

“Tell me that again,” I said. Santeria is really a murderer’s song neatly package in beach-y beats.

We clapped. The band sang some Tropical Depression’s, a Yano song (the singer pronounced Ya-no ‘Yuh nuh’; I heard it “anna”) and some Jason Mraz that the audience—excluding us—requested. They played covers really well. The other guitarist (Keith said is the son of the local luthier) is even better and plays a 7-stringed guitar. They all look like they do not have day jobs but seemed happy.

It’s a good thing.

I took a picture of them, on a 50-second exposure. I hope it turns out well.

Keith took a picture of ABD. His camera, manufactured in Bagets era, is a girl version of my Elvis Presley. I also took a picture of ABD and PSD from the opposite side of the table. I also hope it turns out well.

"'It has been taken CARE of', is the correct form," ABD lectured. Yes, we have random grammar lectures every now and then. It just pops unexpectedly in the conversation but nobody in the group is a self-proclaimed grammarian. It's just the way things go. With us.

Grammar happens.

Keith and I found ourselves playing charade in the middle of a noisy bar.

“I enjoy both of you. You easily amuse each other,” ABD said just as I guessed the word “eagle”.

Keith, by the way, is the terrible-st charade player ever. I don't want him to be my charade partner again.

At half past midnight, we went home intoxicated from/with/in (???) laughter.

summer and jobs and friends.

I'm a development worker and my husband is an architect. We have been trying to get a house but both of us have "weird" jobs, we can't get a loan. We can't because we do not have any housing financing membership, because, again, our nature of employment is, well, different. I do not work for a firm or a corporation. I carry my own name and people just call me if they need my services. It's the same thing with my husband. People call him if they want things built and when it's time to build what he's designed, a news blackout usually occur. Then he'd learn a civil engineer was commissioned to see the design built, in husband's absence. And before husband could even finish counting 1 to 10, the owners would come to him complaining of poor execution. Of course, what output do you expect from engineers who steal other people's expertise?

Majority of the people i met post university have very interesting jobs. Not to be taken out of context, but the last stories i'd want to hear are those concerning sales and general office spats. Most of my high school friends went to that direction, selling things and services in behalf of the capitalists. Thank God none in my high school group went to sell kidney medications. When our little high school group get together, i barely could relate. But i am not closing any doors because there are times that sales talk do get interesting. Since i failed the simulation interview applying as a sales agent in a call center, painful as it may seem, i knew i didn't have any talent for sales. That i could never be a highly paid call center agent. I can't even sell myself; i had to get my first boyfriend drunk so i could get to first base with him. 

One of those post-university friends is a resident historian in the City Museum. RH was a history major who turned planner. Because of him, I get all-time free passes to the museum. I go there for a lot of things. I go there to talk. I go there to study. I go there to see people i like to talk with.  Most of the time RH would talk history to me, show me rare turn-of-the-century pictures of Iloilo City. RH introduced me to lot more friends like Zaffy and Liby.

Zaffy died about 2 years ago from heart attack. Liby, meanwhile, is an artist who wants to devote his craft exploring the Panayanon culture. Several of his exhibits is all about that subject. He has just returned to Iloilo having been gone for a couple of years to pursue his MFA in UPenn as a Ford scholar. Both of us shared similar fascination with this indigenous group, being an RA myself in a Panayanon research years before. Our little Musuem clique, RH included, share similar dreams for a livable Iloilo City and Liby has given me countless of ideas on how to better communicate our opinion to people in the City. I am hoping to one day collaborate with him on a project--we actually could, if only i was not too preoccupied with my day job, the one that (as said in the past posts) actually pays the bills.

In one hot August 2010 weekend, ABD popped up in my facebook chat window inviting me and Keith to Cebu. The date of the visit is in the 2nd week of November but August was a good time to get the tickets because they are on sale.

"Would you like to go to Cebu in November?" I asked Keith. Keith handles the household finances so he decides on the priorities. He's better at it--handling finances.
"What for? and how long?"
"Tour. 3 days. With ABD."
"Just the three of us?"
"And maybe some of his friends."
"Okay."
And that's it. The activity was approved, along with the proposed budget and by November, Keith and I were introduced to two new members of the touring band which would go by the name Alfredogs.


ABD went to Cebu to to present a paper in ICOVAC about the Zarzuela. The rest of the "we" were mere junkets but we paid with our personal money. On the first day of the tour, the yellow day, Maritess* (not her real name. Her real nickname starts with a "P" but she once lived in the city where the City Mayor is named Maritess), wore a Nat Geo shirt and a Fedora hat (was it???). She didn't bring her camera along and it would be the day after that I'd know she could make me beautiful in her pictures. And CBD, too. and ABD. even Keith. and who could forget Giop, who seemed to have mastered the correct pose angles for the camera. All of us looked beautiful in Nikon.

ABD, you would have already known. He writes papers and he directs zarzuelas. He's been to two separate courses of german language and he prefers teaching high school students to college because, "College students are such terrible disappointment." Keith and I were one of his first high school students.

Maritess, I recently discovered, waited in a German restaurant years before. See? the world really conspired and brought us together in that fateful week of November. I happen to be an avid viewer of Deutsche Welle TV, Euromaxx, specifically--but just the ones in English. I discovered Jurgen Mayer through Euromaxx. 


On the second day of the tour, the black and white day, Maritess brought her big camera bag along. And we went to UP Cebu, felt sorry for UP Cebu, felt even sorrier for UP Visayas, and played the game of Alphabet conversations under the big Acacia tree while Maritess accompanied Giop out of the campus, at the jeepney stop near the waiting sheds, to smoke. She took more pictures of us. Weeks following that, back in Iloilo, we recalled the Cebu tour on and on again in between bottles of beer at Frozen Mug. She left for Sendai two days after. 

CBD is a different breed. She's an accountant and a grammarian. She loves to count the number of tiles on the floor, and the number of rivets in a span of the Infante Flyover. She's addicted to travelling. She's a talker and she would talk even if nobody is listening. Most of the time i listen because apparently, i can never beat her in the talking portion. She's highly dependent on Iterax and her lungs experience freedom for only 2 months in the total of 12 per year. Freedom comes only in February up to March. That is, according to her relaying her doctor's explanation, the time when the pollens are not in their disco mode. 


Giop is ABD's friend and zarzuela actor who works in a call center. he has a lot of money but is, i was told, frugal. He repeatedly bargained with a Kukuk's waitress over the 15 peso per piece price of a Dole banana. During the time we were in Cebu he was always away, either teleconferencing or losing his way trying to find, well, his way.

Have i mentioned Keith? He is an architect and he likes Glenn Murcutt and Peter Zumthor. He hopes to one day design something truly Filipino. He's currently busy building Muscovado Processing Plant for a Farmers cooperative. ABD likes him better than me because Keith seldom talks. And because he can sing ang play guitar, skills that Maritess and I clearly lack.

It's summer in the Philippines and Liby is back from Manila. The Museo Kids will be spending times together again. In 2nd week of April, Maritess will come home from the devastated Japan. We will also spending lots of time again.

This summer, I will get the chance to really know how fascinating my friends are. I will.

-------

**Maritess, okay lang nga ikaw si maritess? 

I finally finished the CD Cover i made for the mix CD i produced for ABD.

The artwork behind ABD is by an artist from Silay City, Negros Occidental. I really feel bad that i cannot remember the name of the artist nor the title of this artwork. All i know was this series was called Dreamscapes and it was exhibited during the ICOVAC in Cebu City in November 2010.
ABD posed and i took the picture.

I'm secretly proud of this album cover. really.

we don't have no place like that anymore.

There was a time (i don't know, in 2008??) that my ninja and I would go to mezzagrille for after office conversations. Most of them included ABD who discovered it first. Following the demise of the Tree House (in General Luna, Iloilo City), this became our favorite place. 

My ninja, ABD and i. 

we don't have no place like that anymore. 

FIN.

mix tapes...este MIX CD

in the tradition of latest late night and earliest early morning writing spree: 11:54 pm. 2009.03.26. (happy 26 months gogol!!)

BREAK UP MIX CD FOR VANESSA

This has been a favorite activity of mine long before playlists in digital players existed. This is how you make a playlist before: you get a blank cassette and fill it up with the music of your choice, different cassette for different mood.

And sometimes you give it to a friend who can relate or somebody you want to make a good impression to.

Right now I am helping a friend go through some tumbles so I promised to make a mix CD for her.

It began during our few exchanges through a social networking site of sad sad song lines so (INSERT SOME LIGHT BULB HERE, a 10-watt, tungsten lamp, maybe) I decided to make one: a mix cd of break up songs.

In 2005, keith and I (well, he arranged the song orders after I gave him a bunch of songs form my own roster and that somehow makes him the actual author of the mix cd, and insisted I abide by that code of ethics of proper recognition) made a mix CD for our friend to give to a girl he was courting. Unfortunately, it didn’t turn out to be so exclusive to him or the girl since we, after a while, made a similar record of that mix cd and gave it to alfredo diaz. Alfredo Diaz is a lovable person suffering from alopecia. But he has a long curly goatee, which is not alopecia-c somehow. His goatee amazes our 2-year old boy. It tickles him touching it, I guess. It feels like pubic hair, only that the hair grows on his chin and not on some crotch. Feel it to believe it. Touch it when you see him.

That 2005 mix cd was called BIG GAY HEART, after a lemonhead’s song. Personally I think keith chose the title because our friend was so TORPE, it’s almost gay. In alfredo’s case, the whole phrase fit him really well. He is gay and he has a big heart – I MEAN HIS HEART IS BIG AND GAY, or to put it properly, HE’S JUST A PERSON WITH A BIG HEART AND ALWAYS GAY. Or something like that. It’s a little confusing but let me know if it confuses you in more than one way.

In 2007, we again decided to make one mix cd for alfredo. I didn’t intend to give it on his birthday but there wasn’t much time and we only got to meet on his birthday. It doubled as birthday gift and a ritual offering to him. LIFE IS MELANCHOLY was the title of the mix cd. You see, judging by the title alone it really wouldn’t fit as a birthday gift. Remember, alfredo has a big gay heart. Although if you ask him, he’d always say he is sad. He loves to feel sad for other people to the point of being funny. It’s a mannerism of some sort that he can’t shake off. And that actually makes him the BIG GAY HEART.

We ate some really sweet cake on his birthday, played some songs, were introduced to some bunch of friends, mingled in small groups: there’s the dining table group, the porch group, the living room set group, the near-the-book-case-group, the small near-the-piano-group (which was my group), and the even smaller late-comers group. Then at 10 pm it was time to go home because I had to feed the 1 year old gogol.

Keith and I said we would make it a ritual to annually give alfredo a mix cd until we get tired of making one or until this cd technology disappears into oblivion but because alfredo got caught up in being a zarzuela director, I, being a japayuki mother to gogol, and keith being a major plumber I was only able to make a shortlist of about 10 songs to the next installment, supposed to be a 2008 mix CD, still left un-arranged and un-burned. So unready for reproduction. The set was supposed to be called LIFE IS PRETTY and would contain happier tracks. But the august (and everything after) activities were never repeated, as very usual of alfredo because he’s just plain ABNORMAL and doesn’t want any activity to come in regular intervals, more so this one group turn into some crazed cult-y clique. So it stopped and he never replied to my SMS and never answered my calls more so return them.

I would bump into him from time to time and he would scowl at me. That’s just him.

But I know he continues to adore me.

The third of the series of 3 was supposed to be like LIFE IS SO FUCKING AWESOME that sort of collection but up to now I still haven’t thought of any decent title or made any decent list of the possible songs to be included in the ONE HELL OF A MIX CD he’ll remember for the rest of his alopecia-c life. (Somebody once made a mix cd of me and entitled it JERILEE MASSIVE MUSIC MIX. It’s 12 gig worth of songs if it’s not really massive I don’t know what is).

So on the Lenten holiday I will make Vanessa a mix cd she’ll also remember for the rest of her life. Because that’s the only thing I’m really good at. One thing that I really mastered:

Making people feel good about themselves.

(Which I believe makes me a God then. Now, I should really stop doing this to myself).