Seniors’ night out

Once a week I step out to meet friends, mostly seniors who love to sing. Most of us sing well—an assurance that there will be no rotten eggs or tomatoes thrown. We think we sing well, but if not, no one cares.

We have known each other for over two or three years, meeting often not only to sing our songs but also to enjoy each other’s company. I know very little about my friends but being with them is fun, and I always have a night to look forward to. I also enjoy researching for old songs, listening to radio stations that play them, and putting the appropriate key and notations on the copy.

If not for this long-time hobby of mine, I would not have met some very wonderful, loving, warm and caring people. Songs lost through the passage of time are again heard, bringing back memories from another time, another love, another place. I can recall exactly where I was, at the height of the popularity of a particular song. Sometimes the memories are happy ones; sometimes they are sad ones, and there are also many faded or forgotten ones.

I recall that time when, like most teenagers, I was a “tragic heroine,” unhappy over the limitations of my youth. But that was a very long time ago; the pain in my heart has somewhat eased. What remains are just glimpses of those sweet times and the remembrances of friends who’ve gone away.

Now, of course, I often say to myself: Who cares to be young? I love being in control, of being “the master of my fate and the captain of my soul,” to quote William Ernest Henley. Most of all now, I enjoy the night, listening to songs that take me back to what was once, at times going so far back, wishing I had done things differently.

But to come back to the present, which will soon be in the past, I have my friends, I have my life. Should I ask for more?

If you close your eyes, you can tell the singer by his song. There’s gentle Mario R. crooning, “Wonder why/ I’m not myself of late/ I’m feeling strangely great/ I wonder why…”

Amazing Danny M. who knows all the lyrics, conversant in rhyme: “How soon the flame of love can die/ How soon goodnight becomes goodbye…”

And Dr. P announcing: “When Joanna loved me…”

And we just love elfin-like Mymy who dances as well as she sings, mesmerizing, tantalizing, and the naughty ladies providing background, injecting naughty words to back up Mymy’s serious singing.

Art T. almost always sings: “John’s in love with Joan/ Joan’s in love with Jim/ Jim’s in love with someone/ Who’s not in love with him…/ Those who fall in love agree/ It’s the unsolved mystery…” My, that’s terrible but we love it.

Cora, the flawless beauty, opens with: “You’re my everything/ Underneath the sun…” Can people really be so much in love? I wonder.

Speaking of wonder, “I Wonder” is one of my favorite songs. I ask the question to no one in particular: “How many arms have held you/ And hated to let you go?/  How many, how many?/ I wonder/ But I really don’t want to know.”

No one seems to remember that song. Ferdie B., our talented pianist, asks: “Where did you dig that out from?” But who writes these wonderful lyrics so poignant, so meaningful, so … apt? If that is not talent handed down from above, I don’t know what is.

We are not all elderly folks there, taking a final stab at something that delights, holding it in our hands and our hearts until it lasts. We have young friends, too, like the willowy Irra, gifted with a beautiful face and voice, asking: “Don’t it make my brown eyes blue?”

And speaking of tall, there’s Bobby M. who sits down when he sings or he could change the light bulbs overhead. We call him, Ich… no, never mind. His songs don’t grab my attention but he sings them well, so I’ll give him that.

Dr. Jay, so handsome, so youthful and so expressive, he sometimes accompanies himself on the piano. But the ones who really hold us together are the very skilled masters of the keyboard, like Ferdie B., Bonnie B. and Danny P., and many others. We would never be able to sing if these keyboard artists didn’t provide the notes to make our hearts soar through time and space.

We have Justice and Mrs. R. He sings of “The girl that I marry will have to be…” And I can’t help but observe if indeed, he had married the right girl. And she sings, “…Does your birthday come in April or July…?” And someone shouts, “October!” Gales of laughter fill the room. In a future time, will I recall these happy nights with a longing in my heart?

When we see Judge J. we shout, “All rise!” He is one singer who sings through a side of his mouth: “Kung hindi ako marunong magmahal, sino ako?” Seriously, Judge?

Attorney Willy N. is “The King of Broken Hearts” and “No One Will Ever Know” tonight.  With that, the day is done. Tomorrow, we all get on with our lives, out of sight, out of mind, until we meet again.

Shirley Wilson de las Alas, going on 74, goes out singing with her friends at Charlie’s in Makati City. But her favorite pastime is reading.