The King (of Talk) and I Part 1

One day when I was in first year college taking up advertising at the University of San Carlos in Cebu, I took down my classmate's mobile number at the back of an illustration board (the black side of the board) using a Staedtler mechanical pencil (I specifically remember that it was during our freehand drawing class at the 4th floor of USC's Engineering Building). I was going to call her later in the evening for a group project we needed to submit within the week.

Evening came and it was time to call her, and I was going to at our living room; with only one lamp lit, the room was rather dim. Owing to the fact that the number was written with a lead pencil on the black side of an illustration board, it was easy to get the combination wrong. I tried to make out what I had written (I'd like to think my handwriting is a work of art in itself-in other words, it may appear abstract at times) and started pressing the buttons on my trusty Nokia 5110 phone (complete with the 'ultra-modern' infra-red port, it was indubitably the iPhone of the yesteryears).

It started to ring. “Hello,” the voice on the other line answered. It was a man with a distinctly modulated tone of voice. But there was one thing amiss-my classmate was a 'she.' “Oops, wrong number. Why didn't I simply turn the lights on, just stupid,” I thought to myself. “Sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number,” I told the man on the other line.

“It's okay, may I ask who this is?” “Oh, uhm, this is Mike, Mike Lopez.” He sounded decent and educated so I, with only some hesitation, answered his questions. “Where are you from, Mike?” “Uhm, I'm from Cebu.” I was not in the habit of making friends via MIRC or through phone (back in high school, some of my friends had cross line phone-pals, whatever that's like), but this time, there was something in his voice that sounded awfully familiar, like I was already at home, and that he was no serial killer for sure (besides, serial killers are not uso in PH, I decided), so I returned the favor: “Now may I ask who this is?” (I remember that I did so with a hint of sarcasm. I mean, hello, it was obviously a wrong number, why are we still talking?)

“I'm Boy.” “Boy?” “I'm Boy Abunda.” No freakin' way, I was stupefied. What are the odds, I thought. “Boy Abunda, as in the TV host?” I asked in utter disbelief. “Yes.” So we talked for a few more minutes about people he knew from Cebu and the people I knew from Manila, some of them my friends/family friends, and others my relatives, comparing notes.  From then on, we would keep in touch; he'd answer my calls (or return them as soon as he could) when I needed advice on virtually anything (especially love advice). Sure beats the hell out of paying good money to see a shrink or counselor. The rest, like the cliché goes, is history.

Serendipity. For more than a decade now, I've enjoyed the rare privilege of having the country's undisputed 'King of Talk' Boy Abunda as a mentor, advisor, confidante, and personal friend. But very few people know how this friendship exactly came to be, how it all started. So, to pay tribute to him, a gem of a friend, a gem of a human being, I've decided to share it here.

Life and love

Although I have other “superstar” associations and mentors, my friendship with Boy is unique in that it provides distinctive insights on life and love (as well as in being a successful and respected gay person in the field of media and communications). In fact, his advice- “Mike, don't give love a deadline”-was largely responsible for my immediate past relationship, and although it didn't work out after over five years of loving and trying, it certainly isn't something I regret. Apart from the good times we've shared, it gave me a clearer perspective of how relationships work (and why sometimes they don't). In several occasions, Boy has also helped masterfully process and thresh things, a concoction of both sublime and sordid relationship details, and deduced some of the most discerning and profound analyses out of the issues.

Each time we are able to congregate, whether at a restaurant, at a Starbucks, or in his dressing room in ABS-CBN, boisterous laughter is always guaranteed in between intense discussions on life, love, faith, family, Philippine politics, and world affairs (Speaking of family: how he loves his Nanay with all of his heart and might is nothing short of inspiring, moving, and makes anyone who listens to his fervent devotion to her, at the very least, lachrymose).

Boy has also taken in as his friends many of my other friends, caring enough to ask about how they are despite his busy schedule.   (To be continued…)

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