We were in school when the typhoon came. Classes were suspended and I had to wait a long time for my sundo that my PSP’s battery died. I couldn’t text because there was no signal. I couldn’t let my notebook get wet from the leaking ceiling, too. I wonder, how did students from your time amuse themselves?
curiously loquacious
***
Dear CL,
When the teachers made us copy the notes in the blackboard or from our own books, were called to meetings, or otherwise occupied, we students had to be inventive. To illustrate, I made a list with instructions, so you could duplicate them for educational purposes.
SOS: This is a variant of tictactoe played on the last pages of one’s paper notebook. The page is filled with a grid (math notebooks are the best) and players take turns filling out the squares with either an S or O. The goal is to not let your opponent make more SOS than you. So it’s actually less like tictactoe and more like Connect Four. There is no actual score kept, and the game is stupidly simple it merits no bragging rights.
Poetry, or what passes for it: A piece of paper is folded in half once, twice, and another time. It is then filled with sayings, comics strips, and doggerel like, “roses are red, violets are blue; God made me handsome, what happened to you?” These minibooks get passed around like illegal software to solicit chuckles from the class.
Text: Before there were cellphones, we invented short message service. A class monitor would list down talkative “noisy” students, who were charged a peso for every sentence out of hand (not related to the discussion). So resourceful classmates learned sign language by the letter and talked to each other by flashing hands when the teachers looked away. Despite this system, we didn’t invent jejemon or sexting.
Counting Teachers’ Mannerisms: I think you still do this. This makes the student look attentive and provides the necessary bragging rights.
From a former teacher himself, Happy Teachers’ Day to teachers everywhere!
When I was young (that was 20 years ago), despite my memories of me complaining to my aunts, there was a lot of things a kid could do during rainy afternoons. Most of these things were inventions of fertile minds that desired to escape the same boredom, in so pursuing, was never reached by it. We believed that jumping off the porch should have been an Olympic event, with greater points added if one jumped off the banisters. We bought crackers for one peso and collected the plastic toys placed inside (lead hasn’t been invented yet). We shot each other with bows made of rubber bands and fingers, with arrows made of used plastic straws made stiff and heavy by inserting used cigarette butts inside. We hid each others rubber slippers as a prank to prevent our playmates from going out, and later we threw rocks at each others’ heads when they hid our slippers or threw them on the roof. So sometimes, we had no playmates.
For those times, I would gather my toys and select an old rattan-bound cabinet and let loose with a new episode of the adventures of whatever action figure I had a fancy to at that time. The plots were taken out of Saturday morning cartoons, Sesame Street and Batibot inspired the supporting characters, and a sprinkling of Shaider provided the weird. I could have written Dora the Explorer episodes. Or maybe I was the black guy in Yo Gabba Gabba.
Then there were times my aunts would complain and threaten to spank me if I leave the odd action figure lying unattended away from its proper storage, so I had other diversions. I was not yet 10 years old at the time, unlike Kevin McAllister, so TV wasn’t my life. Besides, I could only watch it at certain time blocks: mornings before going to school, Eat Bulaga, and the odd cartoon series (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Ghostbusters, or Vilma) on Friday nights. We didn’t have a VHS player then and I haven’t discovered porn.
But we had a radio. My father bought a karaoke set, some 2 1/2-feet high and a foot wide, it was designed for what people called Multiplex then. There were two cassette decks (one with a record button) and lots of lights and turning knobs. It was the first time I saw a treble and bass control knob, and the first time I learned that big speakers are supposed to throb. My father hoped that this machine was enough for minus one renditions of the occasional revelry. I thought it was a great machine to add to my irregular action figure show.
I was then the DJ of my show. I raided the record collections of my aunts and uncles and thought they won’t mind as long as I played what they liked. I played Air Supply, Asin, Queen, and Enigma. I introduced songs like I was The Triggerman. I made up daily Top Tens, but I didn’t bother with a Crazy Countdown like in DWKC. I would prepare a tape on cassette2 while cassette 1 was playing, rolling it up with a pencil. As the song was ending, I’d put up a chatter, and slowly slide the master volume down. I’d start to play cassette 2 and turn the volume back up. I loved that machine. I used to put stickers on it, to make it more colorful and lively. I almost never got tired of the blinking disco lights.
Alas, time passes, and perhaps my father acquired the machine in a dubious place, or else the ever-present dust gathered in the tape decks. For the tape decks were ruined, in the parlance of that time, we say it eats the tapes. What a ruined cassette does, however, is to chew up the magnetic tapes and spit them out in horrifying fashion. Sometimes the experience is made more horrifying by the mangled sounds the process made.
That was the first cassette deck I destroyed. It was never used for that purpose again, and my family had to buy a small radio just for listening to the voice tapes our OCW relatives sent to us, and for composing such replies. The blinking disco lights lost their sparkle, and the knobs got loose. My uncle had to insert wads of paper just for adjusting the volume. The stickers faded, and the edges began to turn brown as the glue proceeded to decay.
And on the process went, until a flood claimed it at last.
Hot nights like these make me curse out if the electric fan performs below par for me. Maybe if had I laid off on the extra rice I wouldn’t have so much body heat. It is times like these when I remember when brownouts were common just before President Ramos was elected. Back then I remembered accepting as a fact of life (I was an early stoic) that some nights I will be sleeping in a dark room with three other people (my parents and my sister) in a badly-ventilated room. Ayoko ng masikip, ayoko ng mainit, ayoko ng madilim!
I learned at an early age the etymology of bentilador. Curious things, electric fans. That was also a good way to teach children what electricity does to help people. An electric fan, as opposed to an abaniko or pamaypay, helps little children sleep during summer. I also became an adept on electric fans. One of the first time-wasters I learned was singing (or just shouting) in front of a slowly rotating fan. When visiting other peoples’ houses my eyes (and sweaty body) gravitated towards the cooling breeze. I cared about brands. I dreamed of owning a 3D (usually looking at old magazines and thinking, gusto ko ito). I cared enough to stick stationery stickers on our old Hitachi. I cursed electric fans that don’t turn. I remember begging an uncle to lend me his hand-held fan, run by batteries, and trying to stick this in body parts that were formerly alien to gentle breezes. I was amazed by my first encounter with a dehumidifier (looks like a tower fan with the ice box). Later, I was disgusted with the owner when I found that the ice box was full of mosquito larvae.
20 years after, I still owe a lot to electric fans. I have experienced comfort by air-conditioning systems, but I don’t think they will replace fans soon for me. For one thing, they are prohibitively expensive. I have this thing with open doors and windows, especially after having munggo for lunch and kamote for snacks. Another thing would be control. Especially when I’m power tripping, I want the fan to circulate the air only around me. Last, I want to be cool, not cold.
I wonder if people designed electric fans like they design TVs?
***
– Do you know brownouts are unique to Filipinos? Other people have blackouts, we have adobo-flavored power outages.
– A stunt my cousins and me frequently pulled was to stop electric fans with our fingers.
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’99, if I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be
it. Here is the speaker, apparently facing a gym full of graduates. It is not implied that the speaker is a member of the faculty or even an alumnus of the school, so we might forgive if the advice turns out to be on sunscreen.
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. This.And this.This too. Seriously, don’t ever think all science is absolute. Very little of it is.
I will dispense this advice now. I thought it was only the sunscreen?
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. This is the best and most dignified admission of old age I have seen. But power? beauty? Tell that to Mr. Volcano in the back row, the one with the very large mortarboard hiding his humongous zits. Tell that to Miss Sweetycakes, 16 years old. She’s in the hospital, pregnant from a baby sired by her own demon father.
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You’re not as fat as you imagine. If you didn’t eat so much of McDonalds and Jollibee.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. Sometimes it works. Have you ever heard of intuition?
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday. The practical troubles, my dear. The coming rent with no money to show for it and the payday a week away, what to feed Miss Sweetycakes’ unborn child, they are as real as the beating of your own heart.
Do one thing everyday that scares you. And be scared everyday. Great.
Sing. If you sing well, good. If not, advertise where you are going to be ahead of time, especially to people who might not take your singing in stride. Or you can just pack an mp3 player on the train and listen, if you must have your “music.”
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss. Do Filipinos know how to?
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself. It’s envy, not jealousy. Get your sins right.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how. Practice what you preach, sinner!
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements. So when the sheriff hauls you in to court for estafa, show the judge the juicy details of your lovelife, but leave the sex videos at home. You might be slammed for contempt.
Stretch. How about compress?
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t. No comment. Hahahahahaha!
Get plenty of calcium. Eat chalk.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone. When they’re gone, you’d be walking like your cheap, lead-laden, Made-in-China plastic soldiers.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary, what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Banish the thought. Have fun! But don’t be too disappointed when you fail. (Not “if,” expect to fail. But fail with dignity.)
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own. An instrument of doom, device for the salvation of the world, cog in the machine, or a tool of Divine Sexy Time.
Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room. You can also dance horizontally. It is the most performed, but not universally acknowledged; enjoyable even without music, awesome when it is; most intimate, but not exclusive; dance in history.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them. Look intelligent, even if you are not. Then run for public office. Not reading directions but following them anyway nets one a good tour of duty in the military.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly. Are beauty magazines supposed to be read?
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Not too tightly on the neck or balls.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young. Travel to both Ayala Avenue and Payatas, eat Haagen-Daz’s then learn what PSP means. If you plan on being a writer you will have a lot of material.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Am I the only person who thinks this is an innuendo for digestion problems?
Travel. Do not forget to pay the customs officer.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders. Escape cynicism if you can. Or write a blog or diary if you can’t.
Respect your elders. Respect if different from utter subservience. And forget about “pabaon.”
Don’t expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40, it will look 85. Sometimes, I hope that it will.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Like I have been patient with you.
Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
This “song,” is a 1998 construction of beats and an alleged commencement speech by Kurt Vonnegut, actually a hoax perpetuated on the internet and owned up by Mary Schmich, another writer. Its most famous incarnation is in a song by Baz Luhrmann, an Australian director. He mixed the speech (spoken by Australian actor Lee Perry) with Rozalla’s “Everybody’s Free (To Feel Good).”
In the Philippine scene, I remember the song causing a sensation. It wasn’t sung on noontime variety shows, nor listeners join in the spoken word like chants, and that was good.
Enjoy:
Here are the words, enjoy them. Later I am going to butcher the meaning from them:
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of ’99, if I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be
it.
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.
I will dispense this advice now.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You’re not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing everyday that scares you.
Sing.
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary, what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own.
Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
Galoot – is an informal term, usually attributed to Southern U.S. English, meaning fellow, especially one who is strange, or foolish. Comes from the Filipino history figure Januario Galut. Januario Galut is that Igorot credited as being the Ephialtes to Gen. Gregorio Del Pilar’s Leonidas. The hero was tasked with covering Emilio Aguinaldo’s trail from pursuing Americans a la Roland and Charlemagne and the Saracens.
It may have accompanied the word “boondocks” to the States.
The hit that introduced us to Dingdong Avanzado and the “preppy” look. According to an article by FHM Philippines (see, I read their articles), Dingdong wore those jackets because his family made them.
The song itself is a simple, verse-chorus-verse ditty that one has no difficulty in memorizing it. Beware, listening to the music will result in LSS. Counter with a generous helping of Ke$ha’s Tik Tok.
And the lyrics:
Tatlong beinte singko lang ang aking kailangan
Upang makausap ka kahit sandali lang
Tatlong beinte singko lang ang aking kailangan
Para nasa langit na ako
Sige na ale, papalit ng barya
Sige na please naman ale miss na miss ko na sya
Tatlong beinte singko lang ang aking kailangan
Upang makausap ka kahit sandali lang
Tatlong beinte singko sa isang araw
Tatlong beses ko ring maririnig sa yong mga labi ang
Mahal kita mahal kita
Wala ng iba Wala ng iba wooh
Mahal kita mahal kita
Wala ng iba Wala ng iba wooh
Sige na ale, papalit ng barya
Sige na please naman ale miss na miss ko na sya
Tatlong beinte singko lang ang aking kailangan
Upang makausap ka kahit sandali lang
Tatlong beinte singko lang ang aking kailangan
At Para nasa langit na ako
Sige na ale, papalit ng barya
Sige na please naman ale miss na miss ko na sya
Kaya magmula ngayon iipunin ko ang aking mamera
Tatlong beinte singko para sa isang araw
Tatlong beses ko ring maririnig sa yong mga labi ang
Mahal kita mahal kita mahal kita
Wala ng iba Wala ng iba Wala ng iba wooh
Mahal kita mahal kita mahal kita
Wala ng iba Wala ng iba Wala ng iba wooh
Sige na ale, papalit ng barya
Sige na please naman ale miss na miss ko na sya
***
This time around, I won’t be doing this line by line, for the beauty of this piece lies in its simplicity that approaches Batibot songs. (Don’t worry Batibot fans, I have the highest regard for Batibot songs.)
Now kids, when I was young, the oil that was used to lubricate telephone wires (for smooth calls) was so cheap, calls cost only 75 centavos for two minutes. Payphones were more appreciated, especially if you were waiting an eternity for PLDT to get around to installing a telephone line to your house. There were no cellular phones, no VOIP, no pagers, not even a delivery service for Hen Lin. And there was only PLDT.
Well, you might say two minutes is a very short time for someone to be calling another, especially a loved one. Then perhaps you haven’t watched Ginebra (as led by ex-Red Warrior Robert Jaworski) go through the last two minutes of a championship game. That was very exciting, especially as an “ending” bettor. Then again, it was a very short one for lovers too, but that was all they had.
As for the “heaven-like” feeling related by Dingdong in the song, (disturbing rhyme) teens who are “in lab” get so excited by the slightest sensation they get with their loved one. There were no monthsaries back then. There were less annulments (until Sharon Cuneta got one and showed us that it is possible with a minimum amount of grief). Silverworks has not yet attained the status it has now. And I think jewelries were more precious when given.
(And kids, as for the “mahal kita” part, that is what we call sweet nothings.)
And yes, the song has a moral. It entreats its listeners to save their “barya,” not for the Pasig, not for the Pondo ng Pinoy, but for two minutes of heaven. When you are old enough, you’ll get your two minutes of heaven too, but it will cost you more, plus the cost of beer.
1 Wala pa nung MYX, wala pa nung MTV
2 Wala pa nung internet
3 Wala pa nung ipod o mp3
4 Wala pa nung cable
5 Wala pa nung cellphone
6 Wala pa ring cd o dvd
7 Meron lang Betamax
8 Sa JINGLE magazine
9 Natutong mag gitara
10 Sinifra ang mga kanta
11 Sa cassettte at plaka
12 Mula sa himig ni Pepe Smith
13 Mag blues si Wally Gonzales
14 Lumaki sa layaw ni Mike Hanopol
15 Bumalik ang kwago ni Bosyo
16 Kamusta mula sa Maria Cafra
17 Umistambay si Heber
18 Sa bahay ni Gary Granada
19 Nagbago ang lumad ni Joey Ayala
20 Nagreklamo si Chikoy Pura
21 Sa balita ng Asin
22 Ang anak ni ka Freddie
23 Kinontra ni Edu Abraham
24 Dumibidoo ang Apo Hiking
25 Mga kababayan ni Francis M
26 Beh buti nga sa Hotdog
27 Nosibalasi Sampaguita
28 Wala pa nung MYX wala pa nung MTV
29 Wala pa nung internet
30 Wala pa nung ipod o mp3
31 Wala pa nung cable
32 Wala pa nung cellphone
33 Wala pa ring cd o dvd
34 Meron lang Betamax
35 Sa JINGLE magazine
36 Natutong mag gitara
37 Sinifra ang mga kanta
38 Sa cassettte at plaka
39 Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
40 Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
41 Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
42 Ipagpatuloy
43 Padayon
44 Baby baby Rico J
45 Musikahan ni Ryan Ryan
46 Umiskul bukol kay Tito Vic and Joey
47 Sumayaw sa VST
48 Humataw kay Gary V
49 Bumilad sa ballad ni Martin Nievera
50 Request sa dj ni Sharon Cuneta
51 Nangako sayo si Rey Valera
52 Salamat sa the Dawn
53 Ang tatay ko, si Jack Sikat
54 Disyembre ni Binky Lampano
55 Nangarap ang Identity crisis
56 Wag kalimutan ang Wuds
57 Namatay sa ingay ng Dead Ends
58 Never meant to be Betrayed
59 Sa XB, NU at Club Dredd
60 Wala pa nung MYX wala pa nung MTV
61 Wala pa nung internet
62 Wala pa nung ipod o mp3
63 (Wala)
64 Wala pa nung cable
65 Wala pa nung cellphone
66 Wala pa ring cd o dvd
67 Meron lang Betamax
68 Sa JINGLE magazine
69 Natutong mag gitara
70 Sinifra ang mga kanta
71 Sa cassettte at plaka
72 Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
73 Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
74 Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
75 Ipagpatuloy
76 Padayon
77 Padayon
78 Padayon
79 Padayon
My takes:
1-7, 28-34, 60-67: The song’s chorus that sums up its theme of nostalgia of that time between 1980s – 1990s (Betamax came out in 1975. MTV Philippines started in 1992.) At that time, the most popular distraction for bored teenagers would be the then ubiquitous Betamax. The song does not discuss how many kids discovered the limits of the human body via Linda Lovelace or that Cannibal Holocaust was a very elaborate fake (surprise, surprise!). I loved the video, which just showed the band playing on the porch/stairs of an old house and some clips of children playing traditional Filipino games like syato, patintero, sipa, trumpo and others. Later on, the band members join the kids in the games and the song ends with the band sharing merienda: pandesal (or, could it be pan de coco?) and 7up/Mountain Dew in plastic and sipped through a straw. Nostalgia sells. Good thing that Cafe Puro ad showed Myrene playing hopscotch/piko.
8-11, 35-38, 65-71: JINGLE was the brand name of “songhits” then. No lyrics.com for you. In the spirit of their popularity with teenagers, the song magazine was very unfriendly to parents. It was full of toilet humor, crude drawings and a mascot of a cherub urinating against a wall. Pilyang Kerubin indeed! Commercial music was very reasonably priced. Cassette tapes stood up well to abuse (except magnets). People got low-quality songs (and rock concerts via NU107) free on the radio by hitting the red record button. I used to know people who learn chords and songs to play on the guitar by ear. Kinakapa. Maybe that was what was meant by sinifra (cipher).
The stanzas are consist of wordplay using the music or song that defined or popularized the artist. Hence:
Ang Himig Natin – Pepe Smith (Juan De La Cruz Band)
Wally’s Blues – Wally Gonzales (Juan De La Cruz Band)
Laki sa Layaw – Mike Hanopol (Juan De La Cruz Band. Edmund Fortuno na lang, kumpleto na sila!)
Pagbabalik ng Kwago – Bosyo (bosyo is also the indigenous term for goiter)
Kamusta, mga Kaibigan – Maria Cafra (May logo sila na kahawig ng logo ng halos lahat ng action film noong 1970s.)
Istambay – Heber Bartolome (Banyuhay ni Heber. Dating board of trustee ng FILSCAP, na humiwalay din.)
Bahay – Gary Granada (He recently left the music industry in a protest against piracy.)
Bagong Lumad – Joey Ayala’s band (a play on bago/new/alternative and luma(d), the lumads of Mindanao and the word old). Isa sa mga naunang Pinoy alternative.
Reklamo nang Reklamo – Chikoy Pura (The Jerks. Repeat after me, “PUNK’S NOT DEAD!”)
Balita – Asin (Kailangan pa ba itong i-intro e pinalutang ulit ito ni apl.de.ap sa ere)
Anak – Freddie Aguilar (Ang masama, yung PAMANGKIN ni Ka Freddie)
Kontra-GAPI – Edru Abraham (Kontemporaryong Gamelan Pilipino. Award-winning band.)
Doobidoo – Apolinario Mabini Hiking Society (Yes, that was what APO was called dati. In an old interview, they revealed that they almost called their group the Jose Rizal Bulletproof Vest Company. The said song was updated for a tribute album by Kamikazee.)
Mga Kababayan – Francis Magalona (One of the late rapper’s early hits that catapulted him and Filipino rap into mainstream radio. Made the “running man” ubiquitous.)
Beh Buti Nga – Hotdog (May show din si Janno Gibbs at Anjo Yllana titled Beh Bote Nga. Wala lang.)
Nosi Balasi – Sampaguita (If you haven’t known by now, the title is reversed.)
Rico J. Puno – His trademark was singing alternate Tagalog and English lyrics. And abuse of the word, “BABY.” Much much better than Renz Verano (although I liked Larawang Kupas) or Justin Bieber. Umabot naman sa cutoff, since 1976 siya nanalo sa Aliw Awards.
Ryan Ryan Musikahan – Ryan Cayabyab (The man who created Smokey Mountain, the singing group. I didn’t care much for music when I was very young, but nowadays I realized I missed too much sleeping early.)
Iskul Bukol – Tito, Vic and Joey (Not a music group, but a TV show. Isa lang ang masasabi ko dito. IDOL)
Sumayaw, Sumunod – VST and Co. (In a Mel and Joey interview, Joey jokingly remarked that Tito was so domineering, VST actually stood for Vicente Sotto the Third and Company. The band the senator’s two brothers Val and Vic, Spanky, Male and Roger Rigor, Monet Gaskell, Celso Llarina, and Jum Medina. It adapted Bee Gees styling and falsetto to Pinoy ears.)
Hataw Na – Gary Valenciano (Initially marketed as the Michael Jackson of the Philippines, he was known better for his dance hits, ballads and religious songs (sometimes mixing them up).
Martin Nievera – Gary’s “rival.” Magaling kumanta ng ballad. Walang kuwenta magsalita ng Tagalog. 🙂
Mr. DJ – Sharon Cuneta (The Escalera’s little sister. Wala pa siyang 17 nito I think. And patweetums pa rin hanggang ngayon.)
Pangako Sa ‘Yo – Rey Valera (How many lovers made this their theme song? Show of hands, anyone?)
Salamat – The Dawn (That powerful voice, that thundering beat and that crying guitar. Bring out the ice cold beer!)
Ang Tatay Ko – Jack Sikat (Ethnic Faces. Eighties na eighties. Punk, new wave, multicolored na jacket, studs sa kung saan-saan. Herbert Bautista in leotards.)
Disyembre – Binky Lampano (Dean’s December. I don’t know more, I only have namedrops from Rock N’ Rhythm magazine but here’s a link.)
Pangarap – Identity Crisis (Another revered band that I honestly know very little. Here’s another link to appease curious souls.)
At Nakalimutan ang Diyos – The Wuds (Binaboy naming magpipinsan hanggang naging: “at nakalimutang mag-juice.”)
Mamatay sa Ingay – Dead Ends (You guessed it right. They’re punk. Here’s their facebook page.)
Never Meant to be This Way – Betrayed (dubbed the fastest band in the land.)
XB, NU at Club Dredd – DWXB (102.7), where Binky Lampano was a former DJ. DWNU (107.5) survives as the home of new rock (DWLA105.9 surrendered quietly) and Club Dredd was the place to be.
Padayon? That’s a Visayan (waray, sugbuanon, cebuano) word for “to continue.” The song is essentially urging listeners to continue making sweet music. OPM forever!
This blog post was late, too late. I originally intended this piece to come when Betamax started hitting the airwaves. I was on pinoypy.net before. Then I started watching that Cafe Puro commercial. Siyet!
This is to cleanse your ears from that crap.
***
Wala pa nung MYX, wala pa nung MTV
Wala pa nung internet
Wala pa nung Ipod o mp3
Wala pa nung cable
Wala pa nung cellphone
Wala pa ring CD o DVD
Meron lang Betamax
Sa JINGLE magazine
Natutong maggitara
Sinifra ang mga kanta
Sa cassette at plaka
Mula sa himig ni Pepe Smith
Mag blues si Wally Gonzales
Lumaki sa layaw ni Mike Hanopol
Bumalik ang kwago ni Bosyo
Kamusta mula sa Maria Cafra
Umistambay si Heber
Sa bahay ni Gary Granada
Nagbago ang lumad ni Joey Ayala
Nagreklamo si Chikoy Pura
Sa balita ng Asin
Ang anak ni ka Freddie
Kinontra ni Edru Abraham
Dumubidoo ang Apo Hiking
Mga kababayan ni Francis M
Beh buti nga sa Hotdog
Nosibalasi Sampaguita
Wala pa nung MYX, wala pa nung MTV
Wala pa nung internet
Wala pa nung Ipod o mp3
Wala pa nung cable
Wala pa nung cellphone
Wala pa ring CD o DVD
Meron lang Betamax
Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
Ipagpatuloy
Padayon
Baby baby Rico J
Musikahan ni Ryan Ryan
Umiskul bukol kay Tito Vic and Joey
Sumayaw sa VST
Humataw kay Gary V
Bumilad sa ballad ni Martin Nievera
Request sa dj ni Sharon Cuneta
Nangako sayo si Rey Valera
Salamat sa the Dawn
Ang tatay ko, si Jack Sikat
Disyembre ni Binky Lampano
Nangarap ang Identity crisis
Wag kalimutan ang Wuds
Namatay sa ingay ng Dead Ends
Never meant to be Betrayed
Sa XB, NU at Club Dredd
Wala pa nung MYX wala pa nung MTV
Wala pa nung internet
Wala pa nung ipod o mp3
(Wala)
Wala pa nung cable
Wala pa nung cellphone
Wala pa ring cd o dvd
Meron lang Betamax
Sa jingle magazine
Natutong mag gitara
Sinifra ang mga kanta
Sa cassettte at plaka
Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
Ipagpatuloy ang daloy ng alon
Ipagpatuloy
Padayon
Padayon
Padayon
Padayon
Next blog post na lang yung meanings. 🙂 Nostalgia muna.
(From my old blog on pinoyspy.net. Picture from peterimbong.com. Para kay Don Dee at ang iba pang Pinoy na naaalala ang lasa ng nutribun)
Onward, Christian Soldiers!
(Another recipe from my uncle’s book. This one teaches soldiers to transform their nutribun rations into bread pudding! I haven’t tasted, nor dreamt of tasting nutribun, but I haven’t eaten a bread pudding that can hold its own against simple pandesal. Sinong Herodes ang nag-imbento ng recipe na ito? Saan gagawa ng hurno o pugon sa kagubatan ang mga magigiting nating sundalo?)
On with the recipe:
Ingredients:
Nutribun – 25 pcs or 18 cups cubes Milk – 1-3/4 gallons Butter or Margarine (melted) – 1 cup Sugar – 6-3/4 cups Salt – 3 tsps Raisins (optional) – 4 lbs Eggs (beaten) – 30 pcs
Method:
1. Heat milk in a saucepan.
2. Blend in bread cubes and butter.
3. In a bowl, combine sugar, salt, raisins, and eggs.
4. Blend milk mixture into egg mixture.
5. Pour into greased baking pan. (I guess this is purely a mess hall matter…)
6. Place in a pan of hot water.
7. Bake at 350° (Fahrenheit, I guess) for 1 hour until set.
Size of serving: 1 slice, 2″ x 2″ x 1″
Note: I only changed the spelling in these recipes, leaving the proportions intact. I have no idea to cook them, even with these instructions.
neckromancer
Lambingin Bridge 