"Rocker-Nerd" and Other Oxymorons

(by the rocker-nerd)

Sitting here by my computer
listening to Zakk and Dime
I feel a sort of gripping power
a compelling urge to rhyme

Once again a year has gone past
and we're all a little older
I hope with all the bursts and blasts
that you don't lose a finger

But more than that I hope you are
most happy and relieved
that what you gave surpassed by far
all things you have received

And while you've lost more times than one
at least you've won some too
And though your love life's dead and done
your friends have stuck by you

I hope you look back with fondness
and look ahead with hope
The future's friggin' bright unless
you won't quit smoking dope

So here's a toast to the year that was
Good riddance, fare thee well
Be sure to make the good times last
Here, have a San Miguel

Happy New Year, everyone! =D

Today, a pseudo-friend of mine implied that I was such a loser because I played a lot of computer games. And I thought Hitler was quick to stereotype.

Yes, I'd rather stay home and play Bookworm Adventures than go to some bar and get wasted because at least I get some satisfaction in being able to spell "BICARBONATE" from a four-by-four letter board. I'm sure there are a lot of people who take great pride in puking their guts out on a regular basis although, loser that I am, I can't imagine why.

Friday was bittersweet, to say the least. The gig was good, but really, what constitutes a "good" gig? Spot-on technical execution? A monster sound system setup? The one-ness of the band and the audience as they make that dizzying ascent towards musical nirvana? Or maybe the food arrangements backstage? It could be a combination of one and the other, or all, or none. And every so often, in the most fortunate of cases, one thing is all it takes to make every gig a good gig. In our case that one thing wore a lot of hair gel.

And then, of course, he had to go and get himself shipped off to God knows where. His parents thought it would be best for him, and you know what they say about parents.

And I don't think the others realise it just yet, because it was our first gig without him and it was okay. But the bad days will come, as they have come before, and who among us will have enough spirit to stagger away from a train wreck and still manage to laugh and make jokes and see the bright side of it all? We haven't really had a chance to find out -- I guess he had spirit enough for all of us. He may not have been the best vocalist, or even the most punctual person, but he was an Optimist through and through.

But what am I being Dawson's Creek-y about? Bands lose members all the time. Metallica. Pink Floyd. The Red Hot Chili Peppers. They leave, they find religion, they go to rehab, they die, they get fired. You replace them and hurry along.

Fredi, you will be missed.

Monday. Went over to Suay's. Sem-ender & going-away party. Finally saw the "tambayan" they had worked on for months. (Eto lang masasabi ko: roots, pare, roots!) Sang songs, drank like a fish and went crazy from midnight til about four in the morning. Went to a nearby net cafe and played DOTA from 4-6. Special thanks to Judiel for teaching me how.

Tuesday. Met up with Emil, Stephy & Jeiz at McDo Philcoa. Had dinner at Mexicali near SM North. Delighted that they had vegetarian-friendly meals, infuriated because service sucked to high hell. Played Tekken at the arcade, didn't even reach level 2 (I blame it all on the controls... hah!). Stephy & Jeiz went off to Malate to party. Had myself excused; bed has been calling me for two days now.

Wednesday. Slept like a log on valium.

Thursday. Lunch with Gayzelle and Moises at Wendy's Rob. Talked about people and goings-on at school. Moises, as usual, showed off his arsenal of the corniest jokes known to man. Sigh, I miss certain UPM people terribly.

Friday. Band practice at Cubao. Went with Stephy & Jeiz to 6Underground in Ayala where we met up with old high school classmates Gail, Kei and Onaya. Hardboiledeggz (sp?) played. Well.. let's just say I'm not a fan. =D Headed over to Anthology in Malate. Great place, great tunes. It's got a vibe that it seems to me / reminds me of childhood memories / where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky.

Saturday. Band auditions at Santolan. Zombie-ish from hangover, forgot lead part, had to do the song over. Fark. Late lunch at Deni's. His pet cat Moo-moo is the fattest animal I've ever seen. (Also: drama episode at Suay's apartment involving parents and subversive documents.) Hung out at the rooftop of Deni's house. Great view. Special thanks to Moja for lugging around my keyboards for me.

It was just one of those weeks that pass by in a blur and make you feel more alive (or more dead, depending on the level of alcohol consumption) than you've ever felt in months. A big THANK YOU to everyone who was a part of it. Sa uulitin. =P

Yay. What a great last week. And now I'm off to Baguio for several days of relaxation and much-needed sleep! Au revoir, everyone! =D

Oh happy day! The sun came out and the MRT was working fine, and so my sister and I hopped over to the Powerbooks Warehouse Sale in Mandaluyong (thanks to Kimi for the tip-off!). My favoritest find was a book by Chelsea Cain called "The Hippie Handbook," and it teaches one how to:

Tie-Dye a Shirt
Anthropomorphize Inanimate Objects
Care for a Fern
Make a Dandelion Crown
Build a Compost Pile
Draw Psychedelic Letters
Flash a Peace Sign
Hitchhike
Choose a Mantra
Find Spiritual Enlightenment
Start a Commune
Play "Kumbaya" on a Guitar
Paint a Mural on the Side of Your House or Minibus
Organize a Protest
Tree Sit
Smoke Bananas
Run Away to Morocco

... and other "timeless skills and activities that make the world a better place, one macrame belt at a time." Haha. I love love love it! It's printed on recycled paper and has all the purple haziness and psychedelia of the hippie era. (Just for the record: Hippie culture is not exclusive to Americans. There are true-blue hippies in the Philippines too, and most lived in Baguio in the 70's and 80's. It explains why, growing up, I had a lot of schoolmates named after mantras and things found in nature.)

Yesterday Gayzelle and I watched "Ang Pagdadalaga ni Maximo Oliveros," which is being re-released. (Onga pala, buy one take one ang ticket ngayon sa Rob cinemas. Hanggang Thursday lang daw ito, kaya nood na!) The kid who played Maximo isn't exactly the best actor in the world, but that's my only complaint. The rest of the movie was great, and Ping Medina was simply wonderful. It just goes to show that you don't need a huge production amounting to millions to put out a good film, contrary to the notion being perpetuated by the mainstream movie industry these days.

Yay, I finally got me a decent gig bag for my synthesizer! The old one has been decaying into the ground for quite some time now plus it's extremely uncomfortable to carry around (even without the worms and grime and dirt). The new gig bag put a huge dent in my piggy bank but what the heck, it makes me look like a pro ergo I feel and play like a pro. Ohoho.

And another yay -- my sister brought home Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, which she got on sale. I've been dying to get my hands on other Eco books ever since Foucault's Pendulum raised my IQ a couple of points, but unfortunately, buying them would mean going hungry for a month. =\

[SPOILER ALERT]

Although generally easier to read, The Name of the Rose is no less a thinking person's book than Foucault's Pendulum. I especially love how the book is a torrent of postmodernist thoughts, philosophical musings and intellectualism, but in the end turns on itself when the main character realizes that for all his wit and brains he was wrong all along and regrets ever basking in intellectual pride, which was mainly the cause of his downfall. (Hmmm... I wonder why this should sound so familiar...)

Grabe, I so love The Name of the Rose. Conio na kung conio, but I haven't felt like this about a book in a long time, all giddy like a schoolgirl. Hahaha. It's pure genius, I swear. It's so tragic it's hilarious.

This is what happens when four camera hams chance upon a semi-deserted hallway one sepia-colored afternoon...

   

   

   

   

Ang ganda pala ng view sa tapat ng OUR... with a lot of help from us, of course. =D Thank you Avatar for the pictures!

Playing keyboards as a hired gun for a reggae/ska/punk band has made me realize how I'm so much more comfortable with the keyboard than the fretboard. Which is kind of sad, since I love the guitar more than any other instrument in the world.

But on the flip side, I was able to play an 88-Key Korg Triton when we jammed in a studio in Recto. Grabe. I felt like Jordan freaking Rudess. Hehehe. (If you want to get technical, Mr. Rudess currently plays a Korg OASYS. =P)

Also, my bandmates are kind enough to give me considerable creative freedom, so I don't feel so much like a sellout. I've gotten attached to doing bluesy solos, which sound rather interesting when played over bright major chords and a reggae backbeat. So far, hindi pa naman nila ako pinapagalitan.

Sigh. I miss playing the guitar.

Testing, testing, one-two-three.