The Dowggie Blog

Played a gig last night at Diamond Hotel. Beautiful gig.

Bo Razon on percussion and partial drum set. Dave Harder on upright bass. Yours truly, Bogart Banocnoc on guitar.

Before the 1st set, as we were setting up, the three of us were discussing Dave’s upright bass… how the uninformed are often flabbergasted by it’s appearance while still sheathed in its softcase.

Bo says, "Mukha kasing bazooka, eh….", referring to how security personnel are often extra suspicious of this strange looking creature, the upright bass.

I go, "Dehin, niyor… maliit lang ang bazooka o RPG, eh."

"Ah, ok," Bo says, "Bazookang buntis. Mukha siyang bazookang buntis."

We laughed, said - mismo! -and high-fived each other.

And decided to name our trio Bazookang Buntis. =)

Our first set held the promise of incredible fun to come.

The incredible fun manifested during the second set.

Powtah! Andon! =) As in! Todo na to! At oo, kailangang i-memorize yan! =)

It was not unlike the headspace of the Keith Jarrett trio — with Jack de Johnette on drums, Gary Peacock on bass and Keith on piano. That wide open kinda thang. Extremely interactive. Anything goes.

Freedom within structure. Structure within freedom. Emptiness is form and form, emptiness.

That kinda thang.

Twas wonderful. =)

As Bo put it after the second set, "Tsong… ang oks sa togs natin… empathy. It’s about empathy."

"Mmmm…" I replied, "Empathy. And synergy."

"Empath-ears!" Bo interjected.

"Ha ha ha ha ha," I laughed.

"No, I have a better term," Bo continued, "Empathsynergears" (that’s a soft g, ayt?)

We’d had so much fun the second set that we played an hour instead of the requisite 45 minutes. Went overtime 15 minutes.

And as a result ended up starting late for the third set. He he he….

Third set wasn’t as quite as much fun as the second but still quite good. We weren’t quite as uninhibited in the third set… well, I wasn’t anyway… because our booking agent was sitting at the bar.

Ops, ops, ops… don’t go too far out, Aya, I remember thinking. Baka sitahin tayo.

After the 3rd set, Bo invited Dave and me out for a round of drinks. Post birthday celebration ni Bo. We ended up at Casa Armas.

Dangerously close to the epicenter of The Forbidden Zone.

Which is, of course, Cleo’s house.

Oh, and lo and behold, at around 10:30 pm, Cleo walked past Casa Armas.

She didn’t see me, thank God. But I saw her.

Hmmm…

She wasn’t the most beautiful girl in the world to me anymore… which is a little sad.

My heart didn’t quite stop… just skipped a few beats.

Guess it is finally time to lay her aside.

Life goes on. Next bar, next chorus, next song.

Life goes on.

And the band keeps playin’ on. Long-long-long-i-long-lo-ong. Ah-long-long-long-i-long-lo-ong.

Life goes on.

c",)

Some may be familiar with the idea that purple signifies royalty. Some may even know the historical basis for that.

For those who don’t yet… see, in medieval times, only the affluent could afford purple clothes. Apparently, purple was a prohibitively expensive dye… or the process involved in dyeing clothes purple was prohibitively expensive. Hence, only the affluent could afford purple garb.

Hence, purple came to be associated with royalty.

But there are other reasons why I love purple.

Here’s one — think of wavelengths. The slowest wavelength, the one with the lowest frequency is red/infrared. Then comes orange (infra-orange?). Then yellow (mello yello). Then green (Animo La Salle!). Then blue (true blue… or bluetooth). Then Indigo. Then… PURPLE! =)

Yes, yes… the books say violet but f_ck ‘em, I say purple.

Think of purple as violet with a dash of pink. Or, if so inclined, you may also think of fhurfhle as vhhhayolet wayd a dush of fhink. Khaya shaaayynn nuuuhhh. 

Ganduuhhh.

In fact… let me now say this — the best reason for being loving/being purple is this: Ganduuhhh.

Sorry, but you either get that or you don’t.

In fact…

If purple is a higher octave of color, there is also a higher frequency of music.

Purple music.

O, bago ka humirit ng "Purple Rain", kung sino ka man, wag ka na. =p

Purple.

Ganduuhhh.

Shine nuuuhhh.

c",)

Kwela…

May kaibigan akong in love sa isang babaeng type ko rin.

Itago natin sila sa pangalang Michaelangelo at Pantene.

Michaelangelo is the guy and Pantene’s the girl.

I’m infatuated with Pantene myself.

And now Michaelangelo thinks he’s in love with her himself.

Thing is…

She shot him down rather harshly. Well, in my opinion, anyway.

I’ve noticed that Pantene sometimes has a harsh way with words. She’s already stung me with her words once. I’ve blogged about that, in fact.

But anyway….

i fear i may

lose the way

i may lose sight

of your tower’s light

so Captain, take the wheel

storm clouds brew

the sea, askew

my sight grows dim

the sights are grim

O, Captain, take the wheel.

i flail, i flounder

of fate, i wonder

Captain, take the wheel

please pierce this fog

and set asunder

this choking veil

with velvet thunder

Captain, please take the wheel.

Ahhh… sigh.

While there is much truth to the common wisdom — that one shouldn’t search for nor wait the arrival of The One — I can’t help but sigh.

They’re singing songs of love, but not for me

something something something, but not for me

Also…

My heart is sad

and lonely

a dowggie sigh

a dowggie, dowggie….

Hahaha.

Kahit ako, hindi gaano natawa don.

I understand that classic symbol of the actor/comedian now. The two-faced head: smiling on one side, weeping on the other.

I seem to have a knack for making people laugh. Especially of late.

I sometimes even crack up complete strangers at bars. Like last Monday at Diamond Hotel’s Palm Court Bar. Was chatting with a stranger at the bar. He asked if I was playing that night. I answered in the affirmative. He asked what my band’s name was.

"Wala, eh," I replied. "Basta na lang kami tinawagan at sinabihang ‘tugtog kayo.’ ".

Which was actually the literal God’s honest truth.

My answer just cracked him up, however.

"Eh, laugh trip pala ‘tong si ser, eh," he exclaimed, guffawing and slapping his knee. 

Pero kung alam lang ng tao kung ano ang pakiramdam ko sa loob.

They say Charlie Chaplin (whose birthday I share) was actually a pretty sad fellow in private.

Hmmm… Oo, napaka-private nitong blog, eh, no?

I’m reminded of a time a younger guitarist said to me, "Paano po ba maging isang Aya? Paano ba maging ikaw?".

"Kung alam niyo lang," I answered. "Kung alam niyo lang kung gaano kataas ang bayad."

Ninety-eight percent of the human population doesn’t understand how it feels to be… an outcat.

To be a jazz musician and a father in this day and age is… tiring.

And oh, so lonely.

Revered by some, reviled by others… while the vast majority doesn’t know nor particularly gives a sh_t about who you are.

Not that I desire fame or recognition. Of those two I have already tasted, and they don’t sate my heart’s hunger.

All I want is a decent living. Not for myself.

For my daughter. And my son.

I’d also love to have someone at my side. Someone to share life with.

Know what I miss most?

The tweetums stuff. Holding hands, hugging, cuddling, snuggling.

So I’m a chick. Sue me.

The sex, I don’t miss as much. I get laid.

But I don’t get loved.

Even the most fawning of my friends don’t know who and what I really am. All of who I am.

But then… I doubt anyone can say they know all of anyone else.

So what am I whining about?

Ewan.

All I know for sure right now is that even jedi dowggies can weep.

I’ve heard that compound word so many times — "god-fearing". As in, "god-fearing man". And people bandy it about like it’s a good thing to be.

Sorry, but i disagree.

We avoid what we fear. Fear creates a wall between us and whatever it is we fear.

Do we truly want a wall between us and God?

I humbly propose a change.

Let’s just use the compound word, "God-loving".

Let’s just be God-loving people rather than God-fearing people.

Some say that fear keeps us in line. Bullsh_t. Think back to your teenage years. Did fear of your parents prevent you from smoking, from ditching class, from drinking, from premarital sex, from making takas?

Didn’t think so.

If you’re presently a teenager, just answer the question in the present tense. Does fear prevent you from engaging in the abovementioned?

Nope. Didn’t think so either.

If fear does happen to prevent you from engaging in bad stuff, well… wouldn’t you agree that fear is still a lame-ass way to get things done?

I’ve long maintained that one gets farther with a carrot than a stick. Drive the donkey with more carrot and less stick, I say.

What happens when we fear something/someone? We avoid that which we fear.

Say you have a fear of snakes. Would you hang out with a boa constrictor then?

Or say you fear sharks. Would you be chummy with Jaws then?

Didn’t think so.

Now say you love someone. Don’t you go out of your way to be with that person?

Same goes for loving things. Say you love badminton. Don’t you purposely make time to play it? Even if you’re hampered by a heavily toxic schedule and have millions of things to accomplish each day, if you love badminton, you’re gonna play it. By hook or by crook.

Fear God and build a wall. Love God and be one with him.

Simple.

"Woof," a God-loving dog barks.

c",)

Boy, my life sure is eventful, isn’t it?

And I don’t think I’d have it any other way.

Woof! Woof! Woof!

c",)

I suppose Lourd may be right.

My Dad also said something about Lourd’s saying that most people don’t get my humor… don’t get me.

People don’t get me. It’s happened so often in the past, I should be used to it by now.

But it still stings.

Di bale….

For every sling,

i return a song

For every arrow

a smile

For every wound

a warm embrace

For every bruise,

a… bong?

Ha ha ha ha ha.

Glad I can still bring a smile to my own face.

Guess it comes from being an only child of separated parents. I’m my own imaginary friend. My own imaginary love.

So tell me Sacred Samting, tell me Cosmic DJ…

When will i have someone to call my own?

Yes, there is my daughter. And yes, i’m grateful for the light she brings into my life. And the light i bring into hers.

But i still feel… lonely.

To be a happy animal or a suffering god?

Master?

Yes, master.

Be calm, master.

Yes, master.

c",)

Had a weird experience last night.

Met up with a singer named Cheska. We’re putting a band together.

At Cheska’s house, I also met a 21 year old guitar player named Anto. At one point, he told me he actually studied what I did on a tune called For You and You Alone (on WDOUJI’s Ground Zero album). Weird.

Flattering but weird. Weird but flattering.

This morning, my Dad — D’Original Great Man, Alfred "Krip" Yuson — sent me a text. He related how Lourd de Vera of The Radioactive Sago Project thinks highly of me as both player and person. (Take note: that’s PLAYER not PLAYAH, ayt?) Lourd also said something about how I’m a good teacher and how I’ve influenced a number of younger cats to get into jazz.

Weird.

It’s not the first time I’ve heard things like that.

In Pampanga, a teenage kid approached me after a gig/show/concert thing and said I’d inspired him to listen to jazz, study jazz.

I’ve heard things like that a few times. And I’m still not used to it.

See, I’m not the message. I’m simply the messenger.

I’ve said this before; I say it again.

The Sacred Samting passes through me. I’m merely the vessel.

That’s why I practise as much as I do — to be as pristine a vessel for The Sacred Samting as humanly possible.

Yes, to be a vessel for The Sacred Samting is also to touch godhood.

BUT [and this is a big but (no, no, no... not a big butt, a big BUT...)]…

I am not the point. The Sacred Samting is.

I am a finger pointing to the moon. Don’t concentrate on the finger or you’ll miss all that heavenly glory.

Sige ka… if you don’t heed my words, baka batukan ka ni Bruce Lee. =p

Woof! c",)

A loved one recently posted a testimonial on my page. She also posted the exact same thing as a comment on this blog.

She expressed a failure to relate to the expression, "steady ka lang".

For whatever it’s worth, I’d like to share a few thoughts on the matter.

Balance.

It’s an essential concept, balance.

It’s easy to find balance in repose. The horse stance is a naturally balanced stance. So is the bow-and-arrow stance. Just assume the position and you’re balanced. Easy.

But…

One must also find balance in motion.

And that can be a little bit trickier.

Check out Ali. Or Pacquiao. Or George Foreman. Or Marvin Hagler.

That is balance in motion.

Be as the moon reflected in water. The water moves. The moon does not.

See beyond the illusion of attachment. Rediscover the childlike wonder of the non-sticky-mind.

We are all masters. Some just choose to forget.

That’s part of the fun.

Think about walking.

Walking is a constant process of losing one’s balance. And finding it again.

Reflect. Discuss.

See beyond the matrix. Recover your mastery.

Your ass must be steady.

Woof. c",)