My niece Cheskie is probably the smartest person of her generation I’ve ever known. It worries me, though, that as far back as I can remember she’s been as sullen as me. She doesn’t say much but she’s got a great heart and laugh that somehow peeks through that cloud-curtain of shyness every once in a while. Equally disturbing to me is the fact that, at 14, she’s taken a certain interest in music – cultivating sophisticated tastes increasingly rare for her age. She took up guitar and got curious about the blues. For once, I decided I would tell her the little bit I dug and knew about that marshland-ghetto of modern music. From Robert Johnson to Robert Cray, she took it all in like the proverbial sponge. This was worrying for reasons I can’t really pinpoint.
Then, my sister – her mother – told me that she was a Pinoy rock fan, particularly fond of bands like Kamikazee, Hale and Bamboo.
Bamboo especially.
She knew the songs; she went to the concerts; and she waited in line for autographs.
(This troubled me. I, too, was just as fanatical in my time.)
All she wanted now was to have her photograph taken with Bamboo. My sister asked me: "Could you accompany her and get her picture taken?" Working as a music journalist (as if that’s an actual profession) I did know quite a few artists including the members of Bamboo. I had the privilege of interviewing them before their first album came out, just before their first single, Noypi, became the country’s national anthem for a time. Although I admit that a sudden shyness welled up inside me, I knew I could and would do this. To be honest, I felt a bit silly just thinking about how I would ask any of them – Ira, Nathan, Vic and Bamboo himself – if they would acquiesce. What if they refused? Embarrassed like a buffoon in front of my niece?
No, I could never recover from that.
Certain developments forced my hand. My wife is a fashion designer and part of prestigious group called the Young Designer’s Guild or YDG. They had been tapped to do a big event at the Araneta Coliseum to dress and style the biggest rock bands today. On the roster was Bamboo. Though my wife was not assigned to style them, I knew the person who was – namely Patty Eustaquio – since college.
We arrived early. At the time, only a couple of bands such as The Itchyworms, were there – a welcome sight because they were my friends. My wife’s younger brother – who happens to be the new drummer for Sugarfree – was also already in the area. All of them knew the guys from Bamboo so I trusted that I could count on them to help us out. Even as my wife and I were growing anxious in our "quest," Ches seemed to be having fun. She had pictures taken with the artists who were there like Parokya ni Edgar’s Chito Miranda and Kamikazee (all classmates of mine in the UP College of Fine Arts). Itchyworms’ bassist Kelvin Yu was entertaining us by stripping to his underpants and asking Ches if she also wanted a picture with him. She hesitated and he displayed all his ham actor histrionics to illustrate his despair. (Ches later whispered to my wife: "Okay, so he won’t be hurt, I’ll have my picture taken with him.")
Evening rolled in and I had to leave for a business meeting. Bamboo wasn’t there yet – and why should they be? They were going to close the show. I left but my wife promised that they would get those pictures at any cost. Later I learned that she had almost forgotten that she was part of the show as they awaited and positioned themselves in the best possible location to bump into the band. Patty offered to help – so did Monch, Sugarfree’s manager, when he arrived. In the meantime, Ches got her picture taken with Champ from Hale. (I was flabbergasted they didn’t get a shot with the rest of the band – in particular, my favorite Hale member, Omni. Such is life…)
My meeting was at SM Mall of Asia. My phone was ringing constantly. Before shows, front man Bamboo is usually intently preparing for the performance so he prefers not to be distracted. Conserving much of his strength, he keeps to himself, focused and silent. Whenever anyone approaches him, he is polite, but asks if the request can wait until after the show. Warning bells sounded in my wife’s head: What if no one was around to ask him after the show? What if they miss him? If push comes to shove, what would I tell him so that he would agree even after pulling out all the stops for the show? Her answer: Call me as many times as possible.
By the time I arrived at Araneta, people were already filing out. My battery was dead, exhausted after the repeated calls and text messages. As soon as I got in, I could see my wife – her face all tired and worried, her hands clutching the camera – and Ches with a face that told me her heart was about to burst. Had he gone? Was it over?
Then, I looked over to what I thought they were absent-mindedly looking at. There was a crowd and they were swarming around a figure at the center – Bamboo!
Now I started to worry. What if he doesn’t remember me and just gets hauled off by his handlers into their van? This could not happen.
I would assert myself.
I bounded forward and narrowed my focus.
Bamboo or bust!
I stepped into the maelstrom and it parted. Bamboo looked up. I could see recognition dawn on his obviously tired and sweaty face. He greeted me.
"Do you mind if my niece has a picture taken with you?"
"Sure. No problem."
Getting into place, Ches beamed as she posed beside Bamboo who seemed genuinely touched.
My wife aimed the camera and pressed the button.
After that, I knew from Ches’ face that – having gotten away with it – she still wanted more. I wanted more!
We headed backstage to look for the rest of the guys.
Fortunately, at the very moment we were stepping in, Nathan and Ira were coming out. Strange, at least to me – as I had not seen the show – was the fact that they were wearing wings. I approached them and they gamely agreed to a photo. I think they were a little embarrassed because of the wings.
I was about to look for Vic when my wife told me that she had managed to snap him with Ches earlier.
After that, all the adrenalin faded and I suddenly could feel my bones. Prior to that night, I had had at most a maximum of two to three hours of sleep at a time because I was busy with a project. I was exhausted and was looking forward to crawling into bed to die. Even for just a little while – a nice interstice of oblivion. It would be a happy death.
That was the best night I’ve had this year.
That night, I was the coolest uncle.