Beth Martin may not be a household name like Jolina Magdangal or Claudine Barretto, not yet anyway. But Beth Martin is going to be very famous someday. And I pray she does become a superstar. I’m not sure though if she wants to be one. Beth Martin is an old friend of mine and many others in the music industry. She is so pleasant that if you fight with her, chances are, you are related to a distant relative of Lucifer. But Beth is not perfect. As a matter of fact, she always asks if she’s done right or if she looked alright. She’s almost always apologetic – oftentimes for being so dedicated to her craft.
Beth was Ariel Rivera’s musical director in his national tour in the early ’90s. We have done shows here and abroad. She is so easy to work with, she simplifies complex matters and adjusts to the rough concert terrain in the country. There were times when our producers would provide us with horrible sound systems. Beth never aggravated the situation by whining about the deplorable state of the drum set or the cancerous state of the cable and the malfunctioning monitors. Beth always had solutions and she would rise above infinite problems of our tour.
Beth is not only a good musical director and an excellent pianist, she is also a funny lady. Before a performance, we would always plan her wardrobe. "Don’t be afraid to show what you have," I would taunt her. "Be sexy!" Beth is a sensuous woman. We would always have a good laugh about how daring her mini skirt would be or how adventurous her make-up was. Beth is a beautiful woman. She also has a good fashion sense. Onstage, if she were not conducting her band or playing the keyboards, you would think that she was an exotic dancer.
Beth is not only a sexy MD (musical director). She’s also an amazing shopper. Once in Hong Kong, she bought two huge suitcases of clothes for $700!
I wouldn’t be surprised if someone is smitten by Beth Martin in Las Vegas – because Beth subtly attracts you with her dexterous fingers on the keyboards, her smiling eyes and her hypnotic laughter. Beth is not only a pretty face. She also has a pair of sexy legs.
I just miss Beth. By the way, Beth is happily married.
And then there’s VARGA!
She with the body that can launch a thousand subpoenas and a voice than can tame butchers like Slobo Milosevic. Varga is a goddess– the Philippines is too small for her. I have always believed that one day, the world will discover Verni Varga.
Many years ago, I had a dream. Streisand was on the line and she was persistent. She wanted to talk to me – but I was on the other line. She, according to my secretary, was willing to wait. Irritated by the persistence of this snobbish Jewish superstar, I grabbed the phone and literally screamed, "Hello! What do you want from me?!?! What?" Meek as a half-cooked lamb, she almost whispered her words, "This is Barbra Streisand and please, please give me this chance to sing a duet with Ms. Varga." I was playing it difficult – after all, this was the 15th call from this woman. "Ms. Streisand," I was livid, "I will think about it very carefully. You see, Ms. Varga is booked in the next 24 months. Even if we would like to help resurrect your dying career, I wouldn’t know how to fit in a recording session with you in the chaotic calendar of Ms. Varga."
"Please, please!" she implored. She was almost in tears. I softened a bit. After all, I was really a Streisand diehard – before Ms. Varga became the world’s no. 1 pop star. "Alright Barbra. Call me again tomorrow. I’ll see what I can do."
I was laughing so hard, Bong, my domestic partner thought I was being possessed by some wild boar. He slapped me and I woke up – hysterical. It did happen in a dream. It can happen in real life.
Now that Varga is going to Vegas – who knows – someone out there might still want to sing a duet with her. Excuse me Celine, the Vamp would have done it better with Barbra!
Tell me, Barbra. Tell me. Or better yet, I’m going back to sleep!