Moments on my mind

I was invited to a surprise videoke session cum bridal shower last week,and while I can count in one hand the number of times I’d actually sang in a videoke session, I was pressured into taking the microphone, all in the name of love for the bride-to-be.

It was pretty funny, how I ended up mic in hand. I’d been doing my usual delaying tactic numero uno, which is to scan the list of songs and pretend to be looking for one I wouldn’t mind singing. But I’m not an actress for a reason, and, as we were wrapping up (read: paying the bill oh-so-slowly because our one hour was up), my officemate demanded I sing a song, or else she wouldn’t hand over our money. Talk about pressure, right? And so it was that I ended up belting out a squeaky version of “To Be With You” by Mr. Big and was transported back to when my cousins and I were often sans parents in the summers of the early 1990s.

My cousin Joey and her brother Mark often hung out at our house, which was a bicycle ride away. One hot afternoon, my brother, who was learning to play the guitar, started strumming the chords of “To Be With You,” the lyrics of which Mark sang, impromptu. Joey and I joined in during the chorus, and it was like one of those movie scenes where everyone, friends and perfect strangers, bursts into song and actually finishes it. Remembering that time is more poignant now that, even a couple of weeks later, TV is filled with Michael Jackson tributes and people are surprised at how much they feel the weight of his loss.

In fact, as I am writing this, Channel V is showing one Michael Jackson music video after another, surprising me again at how much I loved almost all of them. I’m amused at how I remember one iconic look after another, and then realize that he was so great a pop artist that almost all his looks were iconic, from that red jacket in “Beat It”; to the black leather get-up in “Bad”; to the black slacks and white shirt in “Black or White”; to the Egyptian-inspired, gold and sequined get-up in “Remember the Time” and just about everything else.

But back to the videoke session cum bridal shower. As we were settling down, ordering food and drinks, I employed delaying tactic numero dos, which is to make a request, and asked for someone to sing at least one Michael Jackson song. Since it was a bridal shower, we chose, “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You.” It wasn’t even one of the songs that made the most impact, but I suddenly recalled how we would sing it as kids, and even before the line “Each time the wind blows, I hear your voice so I call your name” was done, I was already pretending to rub my eyes because it was brimming with tears.

This song reminds me of one of our long-time maids. She was with us for so many years, she was practically family. During the early years of her stay, she had a secret boyfriend she didn’t tell us about, but I would know they had spoken or seen each other because she would sing “I Just Can’t Stop Loving You.” She was a pretty good singer, too, and one of the more expensive things she bought with her money was a microphone. They were all-metal back then, rather heavy, and, with too much use, you risk getting slightly electrocuted.

It wasn’t all past moments that were on my mind, though. Sitting across the blissful husband-and-wife-to-be, I watched them alternately being sweet and being playfully mean to each other as only long-time couples could be and a I had a flash forward moment, seeing myself and my single friends in their position.

And that evening ended with a wish from the bride-to-be, who has since married her prince: “May you all find your true love.”       

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