~* ON BEING LABELLED *~

My convo with Tere on the way home yesterday has got me thinking about this...

I hate it when people label you. They think they can judge you. They think they know. But they are NOT in my shoes. They do not see the whole picture. They do not know what has been happening.

They kid me and say that I am such a fan. A groupie. It irritates the crap out of me how I have to explain myself. I am not a fan. I am not a groupie. It is exasperating most of the time to hear it over and over again that I don't bother explaining anymore. I do not comment and object sometimes but I resent being labelled like that.

And it annoys me how some people think they are a bunch of jologs guys coz they are not. One time I had to "defend" them and explain that these guys have such good breeding, they are well-schooled, they are Ateneans and La Sallians and etc. They are not some cheap act who is entering showbiz for all the glam and glitter of it all. They are there for their passion and craft.

I was also pissed when some people poked fun at how one of them looked like, with his non-blinking eyes and all, at one of their gigs and on TV during that Mossimo thing. Gaah. Some people!

Yes, initially, I guess that's how everyone started -- as a fan of their abilities to perform and entertain everyone with their gift of voices, groovy dance moves and insanely funny humor. But then, since these guys have such good breeding and are such genuinely nice persons who really talk to you and make the effort to get to know you as a person (and not just someone who claps at their performances), you get the chance to know them better. You realize they are not BS'ing you with artificial crap. They indeed see you as a person. And as months of being with them off-stage/hanging around with them/talking to them/ watching them go by, you realize that you do not go to their gigs simply because you like seeing them. You are there because you want to support them and give your appreciation in the same way that they are giving you theirs. They are real persons, not somebody up there in a pedestal. They happen to be nice, friendly persons so you happen to grow into friendship with them.

You do not expect to be let in for free. You pay the entrance fee if there is one. You do not demand to be in their guest list. Your ears may be bleeding from hearing "Bongga Ka Day" for the nth time but you still stay and watch. You have memorized their repertoire and rarely hear anything new but you are still entertained. You do not think they're jologs coz they will perform with the Jaboom (?) twins. You get genuinely concerned when something happens to them. You are comfortable enough with them to tell them to change their shirts when they're soaking in sweat. You clone stamp their sweat stains on their pictures before posting them for mass consumption coz you do not want to embarrass them. You can tell them their current hairstyle doesn't look nice. That they need a haircut coz their bangs look like damn pineapple leaves. You can tell them that "Bongga Ka Day" is really not your favorite song at all but thank them anyway for singing it to you on your birthday. You can tell them that thou shall not molest thy microphone when they are dancing onstage (ahaha!). You can call them Lolo, Huggy-wuggy and Dao Ming without any qualms. You can tease them with their slang-ish singing of "frisco" and "disco" in Annie Batumbakal. You can make a face and go "ewww" when you do not want to beso them goodbye coz their faces are streaming with sweat right after the gig. It's even sweet and considerate of them when they alert you by saying "Pawis!" when you are about to give them a beso-hug. (Funny how you end up giving each other virtual besos instead!) On the other hand, you can tell them that their shoes kick ass. That their Hugo Boss-inspired outfits look great on them. That they are such gwapings. That their hair highlights look nice on them. You can commend them for losing weight. You send them inspiring lil pep messages when they need it. You can tell them anything coz you know you can be real with them.

You realize how its such a tiring work for them sometimes when you see them dozing off or slumping in their chairs while waiting for Aliya Parcs to finish her damn long set. You admire them because you get to see how they have their school notes and books with them, trying their very best to pull off studying at daytime and "working" at night.

You help put up a site for them because in some way, this is what you can do to somehow help them and repay their sweetness. You do not expect to be treated extra-special or to be paid by Franco (hahaha!) because of it. You do it because you want to. You take their pictures and give them copies of their performances because you know they are wondering how the heck they did in that gig.

You become happy for their success. You have been there during their pre-debut album days. You have heard them tell you that they felt bad when people from Baguio booo'ed them during the Radioworks gig last Ad Congress because the Baguio peeps don't know and don't care who the guys were at that time. Oh but look at them now. They are everywhere and the gigs are left and right. You are genuinely happy for them for you have seen how hard they have worked their asses off to be where they are now. You smile faintly as you watch these new people who come up to them after their shows and wonder if that was how you looked like waaay waaay back.