in a few days, barring any storm or any other form of mishap, we (me and several theater-loving pals) are going to watch Cats. meow.

despite my avowed hopes of watching a few stage plays, the only stage musical that i had ever actually made efforts to watch is Cats — because it looks fun, whimsical and as bit over-the-top.

and now that it’s almost here, i can’t help but anticipate how they would present the Rum Tum Tugger, possibly one of (if not) the biggest attraction of this show. and when you think of Rum Tum Tugger, there’s no other stage actor who has inhabited this character as well as John Partridge.

***i was rifling through my old posts at my other site (Recyled Thoughts) last week when i stumbled into something that i wrote about 3 years ago. and since Father’s day is just a few hours away, it seemed appropriate to repost it here (with a few changes)***

for a long while now i have managed to resist the temptation to write event-themed posts (valentine, new year, mother’s day, christmas), partly because i didn’t want the predictability ‘tag’ hanging on my coattails and partly because i have this perverse tendency to buck the trend.

the last few days, however, have made me realize that even my conversations lately have rarely touched on my father… so, i’m going to bend my rule for a bit and muse about him.

my father, like most men of his generation, was of the old school — you know, the stern stoic and undemonstrative but responsible-to-the-hilt type. he was content to let my mother manage the household, but whenever he decided to put his foot down we all toed the line (although there were times when my mother, with her subtle ways, could actually make him change his mind without him being aware of it).

whenever he laid down one of his decisions, his voice sounded like the crack of doom, and us kids would react accordingly. his decrees, which rang with quiet authority, had the imposing air and the constitutional mandate of the Ten Commandments, and we all knew better than to argue or whine. The judge hath spoken…

my father, despite his crusty exterior, had his “soft” side, too. on rare occasions he would set aside his serious respectable self and play with us. and he liked to see us screaming in glee as we feasted on his pasalubong whenever he came back from one of his out-of-his-town trips. the one scene that has stuck with me all these years was my father sitting in his favorite chair in a corner with this mellow look on his face as he watched us stuffing our faces with food and playing with the toys he brought.

but as we grew older he got more serious. it wasn’t until i was in high school that we really began to connect again, just around the time when i finally learned to express myself without sounding like a total idiot. he had no clear favorite among us but i was the one that he could really talk to. at first it was just small, inconsequential things; as time went on, we began discussing about issues (political and social). our favorite topics were history, military hardware and music (he was a part-time member of a local orchestra). the funny thing is that although he’s good with musical instruments (guitar, trumpet, trombone), we have never heard him sing. ever.

want to hear another ironic thing? my mother is tone-deaf — to the point that it’ll hurt your ears just to hear her relentlessly belt out a tune. it doesn’t stop her from trying though, and we’ve all learned to live with it. tatay just smiles at our hilarious complaints, and to this day i have yet to hear him comment on nanay’s voice.

once, a friend asked him pointblank to define the best thing he has ever achieved in life. after a silent minute he replied, “my children, i think. they’re my best investment. whatever they’ll accomplish, that’s the interest i’ve earned.”

thanks ‘tay. happy father’s day.

it’s election time once again, and for the umpteenth time, i find myself wondering if it’s really worth the hassle to go through this hullabaloo just so we can put certain individuals in office, who will — more than likely — maintain/recycle the same old crap we’ve been contending with these past few decades (same old, same old). hopefully, some of us (voters) have wised up to this game and make our choice accordingly.

this also reminds me of an entry that i posted in my one of my blogs in 2007 (see below). i was fairly steaming around the ears while i wrote this. the funny thing was, this sparked a small discussion among those who commented, and a few seemed amused at my plight.

****o0o*****

i love saturdays. there’s something inherently laid-back and relaxing about saturdays. which is hardly surprising because i usually associate this day with sleeping late, gimiks, entertainment, or just lazing around my place…

today i was rudely awakened (in more ways than one) from this absurd fallacy. i think i was in the middle of some pleasant dream, when suddenly this horribly grating, eardrum-assaulting music blared out right under my window. i wasn’t about to go down without a fight though. with eyes determinedly shut, i slapped a pillow over my head and tried to ignore the cacophony.

it was no use. after that ghastly intro, the loudspeaker blasted into life. “mga kabaranggay, sa darating na halalan, wag po nating kalimutan–”

feeling somewhat homicidal, i bolted from my bed, slammed the window shut, pulled the curtains down and tried to sleep once more.

fat chance. after 10 minutes i had to give up. even if i could drown out the speaker’s voice, it was the music that was the real killer. the singer (female) was extolling some local politician’s virtues in an awful campaign jingle set to Jennifer Lopez’s “Let’s Get Loud” (and it was!). i was hoping that — by some merciful act of fate — the campaign jeep would somehow move on say after 10 minutes, but no, the recalcitrant thing just stayed there like a leech for what seemed like an eternity.

at 9:10am i gave up the fight and reluctantly turned on my radio to dilute the din. a few minutes later, the jeep went on its merry way to assault another street corner…

which brings me to an interesting point. would somebody please tell me why politicians (or their managers or whoever it is that orchestrates this mess) almost always choose the worst kind of background songs to punctuate their campaign spots or ads? ever since i was old enough to to remember such things, i have yet to hear a campaign song that i can tolerate or (however unlikely) actually like.

well, of course, i can understand it if all they’re aiming for is the song’s shock value or the fact that, if played loudly enough to wake the dead, it might actually browbeat the voter into submission — and thereby drive him/her to vote for the said candidate, if only to stop the aural torture. but i wish those old fogeys would consider the hapless listeners. please guys, there are less blood-curdling ways to torture us, voters (listeners). at least choose a better song. or better yet, please don’t drown us with your crap on saturday morning. some of us are trying to catch up on our sleep after a week’s slog.

P.S. umm… or maybe it’s about time we petition the Comelec to disqualify the candidates with the worst-sounding campaign jingle *mwahahaha*. if nothing else, this will motivate the campaign managers to aim for better quality jingles.

i know it’s fairly early (it’s 4:26am here, folks), but i just want to get this out before i hit the sheets…

HAPPY EASTER!!!

from me and the Easter bunny.

and for all those who are going egg hunting later today, happy hunting guys. hope you have a huge, bountiful loot.