Looking back through ‘Super Panalo Sounds’
MANILA, Philippines - When I learned about Lourd de Veyra’s debut novel, I promised myself that I would be the first to have it even before it hit the shelves of NBS in San Pablo. And I did — for the love of the author.
I really don’t mind what the book is about if it’s from Lourd. I know it’s going to be a good read.
But little did I know that Super Panalo Sounds would hit me right in the center of my being and open the cage of memories that I had locked and buried years ago. Super Panalo Sounds is about Dax, Milo, Budik, Zorro and Vic, five musical geniuses who go through the rough road of rock and roll. Five talented individuals bounded by their passionate interest in music and how each one of them struggles through the many pressures of one who knows they have “it,†but sadly have no way to make it there. It speaks of dreams, disappointments, pride and reality setting in. The book tells the tale of the many clichés we attach to wannabe rockstars even though we fail to understand the truth. It about the tragedy of wasted life, gift and opportunity. Super Panalo Sounds is filled with everyday scenarios, of youth gone wild, marriage breaking apart, funny and yet touching anecdotes, drugs over food, drugs over relationship, drugs over dignity, and drugs — a whole lot of it.
I am no rock and roll girl. I have nothing to do with anything associated with it. Okay, so maybe the drugs, and sex too, but music, no. I do not understand a single thing about musical instruments, about notes or tunes. All I know is that a half note is the other half of a whole note. And a guitar has more strings than a bass. Although I enjoy listening to songs, the closest thing I ever got into the music part of rocking and rolling was when I saw Karl Roy doing a motorcade around the UPLB campus and he waved at me. Okay, he waved in my direction.
So, it is a surprise to people who know me whenever they hear me talking about Super Panalo Sounds and how much I enjoyed it. What makes it endearing to me is that all the characters are glued together and make up the whole plot.
For the longest time, I tried to shut things off my mind. I don’t want to be reminded of the life I had years ago. When I was four, nine, 12, 15, all the years in between. But the book pushed the right button. I was that little girl they called “made of stone, “ except perhaps I was only half made of it. But then I was probably made of weed. I had different connotations for words like damo, yero, untog and piso. Life each morning then was to check if there was a new face in the house trying to destroy his life. In the evening, it was trying to avoid the nasty ones, those who didn’t know “how to handle things,†in the words of my dad. It wasn’t easy.
Kadyo is my father, only he was not the stereotype also, as Lourd describes him. Daddy didn’t swear, had no tattoos, read the broadsheet every day, cooked comfort foods and observed his diet strictly. Or maybe I was imagining things then. He just didn’t have the appetite, I guess. So, now, I know. Memories came flooding in.
I didn’t have the chance or the courage to ask why Daddy chose the life he lived. I had my own issues then. I was too young to understand his concerns but old enough to know that our situation was different from the others. Or, maybe I was afraid of what he would tell me. So, I did nothing. I saw the best and the worst of him. What drugs could do to you, and what you would do for it. I’ve seen a man who would go around our neighbourhood, naked in broad daylight, saying he was being chased by hundreds of ducks. Only to say the next morning he could not remember what he did, half smiling, as if he did it on purpose. One time, a young man brought his mother’s antique dining set complete with chairs frantically asking for his much needed supply. Half an hour later, there was his mom, apologetic for what her son did. They went home, her little boy in tantrums. Pity. Ugly. Sad. Then, there was Budik who went on talking to a hotdog, of all things. And Milo, who finally had the courage to do something worthy for his child. Well, as for Vic, he ended his life just like that. The same thing happened to Dax. Dax the genius crossed the thin line that separates people from reality. People do things that are sometimes unimaginable but I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I guess when you live long enough in such conditions, you don’t find it strange anymore. You learn to deal with it. Only this time, it makes more sense.
Life wasn’t kind enough to my father. He lost his own pop at a very young age, was not able to finish school, rejected several times for job applications because of his health condition, lost his mom and my sister with only a year in between. Maybe that was why he took that path, the road to rock and roll. Crystalline rock, napkin rollin’. Easy money, tough life. Forget some worries. Dax and Milo could have chosen a more convenient and dignified way of living given their talents and opportunities. But they have chosen poorly. Now, there’s the word — choose. We choose the life we live. Dax, Milo, Budik, Zorro and Vic had the chance to make it big, but unfortunate circumstances came in their way and they preferred to be drifted into an otherwise pleasant and more bearable situation.
Daddy missed on that part, too. People say that if life gives you lemons, make a lemon meringue pie. Life didn’t just give them lemons, they were given ampalaya, chilis, and methamphetamines. If I had known better, we could have prepared a salad out of all the ingredients — minus the drugs of course. When father passed away, I decided to forget everything and move on. I opted to exist without the past. I was afraid nobody would accept me for who I am, what I’d been through. But Super Panalo Sounds came along.
It is one thing to forget but it’s another thing to look back. And I made my choice.
THIS WEEK’S WINNER
Ivy Ann M. Alvero-Bautista, 31, is, in order of priorities, a mother, wife, daughter and student. She is a second-year student at the Dalubhasaan ng Lungsod ng San Pablo, taking up Secondary Education major in English. She calls her school comeback “the last leg of my campus tour, having gone through seven different colleges and universities and after brief stints in five different courses.â€