Paternal patter

If there’s something I’ve not been asked to come up with very often, it’s to produce an advice column. After all, in my case, to twist the proverb, that’s like being in "the kingdom of the one-eyed men, asking the blind man to lead the way." I may be adept at shooting from the hip, being a champion of the life philosophy of laissez faire (or with me, is it lazy fare?), and being too honest for my own good. But to actually think myself qualified at dispensing advice – nah! And yet, given the opportunity, I’ve always figured, if we’re ready to let all these other "authorities" screw up our lives with so-called sage words and the ilk, why not me?

So when Gina Llanes, the editor-in-chief of Working Mom, asked me to write for the Daddy’s Voice column of her magazine, I felt she was due for a psychiatric test. Yup, she failed, but the damage already being done, I had submitted my column and it had gone to press before we could have her and the column "committed." So, it’s there in the October issue of Working Mom, my paean to the visceral joys of fatherhood – emphasis on visceral. If my three sons ever get to read it – and what are the chances they’ll pick up a magazine called Working Mom, and not Questor or K-Zone? – I hereby disavow any knowledge of why embarrassing anecdotes of their lives and "little disasters" have seen the light of day, and in print!

I can imagine my five-year-old Luca, exclaiming, "Pops, that’s silly. Now I can never go back to school!" And that’s so typical Luca, to find some obscure yet unassailable reason for playing hooky. If it’s not "the sun is shining, there’s no water at school, there’s only a half-tank of gasoline in the van, or they ran out of Oval-teenies," he’ll think up of some newfangled excuse that has me both in stitches and grinning in frustration. As for my two older boys, aged 13 and 10, I think they’ve become immune to the kind of shame my writing about them can cause. Don’t worry guys, I’m finding new ways!

So there I am, in the midst of an issue with a cover story on Eula Valdez, articles on anesthesia during childbirth and how it can lead to... to... I forgot! Contributions by Denise Weldon, photos of toddlers and infants back, left, right, center; and what do I talk about? Cupping your baby’s puke in one’s naked hands, and blessing the bedroom with his pee while he’s fast asleep and you try to carry him to the toilet because you forgot the diaper. Like I said, emphasis on visceral.

There’s nothing the blood, guts and gore of the most graphic war movie has over my column in the "nauseating department." And for me, they all form part of the reasons fatherhood is one crazy joy. I’d rather not wax rhapsodic as Mr. Expert, Mr. Profundity, Mr. Follow Me. Or paint the rosiest of pictures; there are enough people doing that with increasing regularity. With fatherhood, there are tribulations and pains, there are frustrations and outright homicidal intent (or the ever-dependable child’s dosage of Benadryl) – but at the end of the day, it’s a status that I’ll always be proud to have acquired. Now if only my boys can find some comfort in having such a dysfunctional father, I just might be let back into the house. Guys? Musical Styles

The MTV Style Awards was held recently, and to a jam-packed Tent, MTV made its pitch to recognizing and highlighting the very strong connections between Fashion and the Music industry. For me, the epitome of defining style, personal fashion statements, and its incursion into Music, Media and general Lifestyle came when Tim Yap was flanked by Ariel and Maverick to present an award. Purveyors of outrageousness and gutsy dressing, the three made an impressive rendition of "Chinatown goes berserk." Between Tim’s Jedi motif for the night, and Ariel and Maverick’s trademark rhinestone cowboy look, the right tone of irreverence and fun mixed with proper respect for the efforts of the award-winners was maintained. In fact, with Tessa Prieto-Valdes seated right in front of the stage, one could have bombed a 20-feet radius emanating from the announcing podium, and taken "color" right out of our lives, television, and broadsheet pages in one go.

YStyle’s own Celine Lopez romped off with the "It" Girl category, while other winners included Sen. Mar Roxas, former senator Loren Legarda, models Isabel Roces, Borgy Manotoc, Paolo Bediones and Phoemela Baranda. I’d have rooted for Eddie Gil over Mar. Come on, it’s MTV, but what do I know? Designer of the Year is Jojie Lloren, and Revolutionary designer, Ivarluski Aseron.

What was great about the awards was that due recognition was being given to those instrumental people behind the scenes. Fashion photographers. Stylists and makeup artists all had their own categories, with Xander Angeles, Jenni Epperson and Juan Sarte copping the judges’ nod.

As you can glean from my preference of Eddie Gil over Mar, I’m for keeping everything tongue-in-cheek, and emphasizing the fun element of the awards. It’s not some Fashion Council but MTV. Eddie Gil came with a retinue that included two men/staff members also decked out in hairpieces! What could be more precious than that! For the category of Power Player Female, the name that evinced the most reaction and clapping was Imelda Marcos, and how can you argue with that? But, like I said, what do I know? MTV, despite its veneer of youthful outrage; is, at its core, as mainstream and corporate as any legitimate global business. And that is the only way it will survive. It’s the proven recipe for success, and one can hardly blame them, given the track record it has amassed.

Pop Art Photography

No, this has nothing to do with Warhols and Lichtensteins. It’s Pop art in its most literal of definitions. If your father is a photographer, practicing the art from the time you were born, what would your life be like? Incessant snapshots, the camera ever by his side, the chronicling of a life in pictures – all this forming a backdrop to your existence in this world. And if the "you" is Gary Valenciano, that makes for countless of fans thankful for this footnote of your life. Vic Valenciano is Gary’s pere, and when he started taking pictures of his youngest son 40 years ago, little did he know that it was the genesis (and yes, that term was no coincidence) for a life-long project that would culminate in the printing of a unique photo-biography. Simply entitled, Gary Valenciano by Vic Valenciano, it’s a unique testament to the life of a performance artist and recording star.

Broken down into sections entitled Family, Showbiz, Onstage, Concerts and Shows, Offstage, Singled Out and Back-ups; the book is that rarity – an unfettered glimpse into one’s life– from infancy to gawky adolescence to current "idol" status. Starting off with rare shots of Gary with his mom, as accompanied by her own testimonial; each family member is then given a chance to give their own two cents’ worth of "Life with Gary." Angeli Pangilinan-Valenciano closes this first section.

The tributes from the various showbiz and fellow music industry cohorts are accounted for in the sections that follow. While photo resolution and color separation quality vary with some of the pages, one can’t deny the immediacy and enthusiasm that become hallmarks of this project of Vic Valenciano. Almost begs the question of what if his son didn’t turn out to be the Gary Valenciano we now all know? My father faithfully chronicled our lives in photos until I reached my late teens (albeit not in a professional capacity), but would anyone care? Hahaha! I can imagine my dad doing the rounds of publishing houses with reams of pages of photo lay-outs featuring me, and finding the door slammed in his soon-to-be flattened face with boring regularity.

At the launch of the book, held at the residence of Ricco and Tina Ocampo, guests were enthralled by the detail and minutiae that was on display for anyone perusing the book. This Christmas, if anyone in your family or roster of friends is a Gary Valenciano fan, give your thanks to Vic Valenciano. He’s provided you with the perfect gift to bestow on that individual.