Why Oh Why, Delilah?
At age 29 I was happily married with two children. Increasingly, however, young people these days seem to be postponing this next stage in their lives until they’re well into their 30’s. Let me be very clear: I’m not saying this is wrong in any way. In fact, I’m all for building a career and a bank account, accumulating post-graduate degrees and titles, and seeing the world and all it has to offer before settling down. To my own kids, I’m saying I’m in no hurry to have grandchildren and sleep beside a grandmother every night. Take your time.
What I was wondering about is why my generation got married so early; and while walking around our village in a futile attempt to lose weight, I think I found the answer. Blame it on the music.
Trudging past my neighbors’ houses terrorizing the stray cats stretched out on the streets, I asked Spotify to feed me a stream of hit songs from the 1970’s, and there it was—Ella del Rosario teasing every teenage boy with words set to a seductive Brazilian song:
O, lumapit ka
Kung gusto mo akong halikan
Ba’t kita sasawayin?
Alam na alam mo namang
Ito'y gusto ko rin
Alam na alam mo namang
Ako'y kikiligin
Back in the day it was enough to make us get up and take the first step, to take a break from the arcade games, set aside the dummy rifle, put down the comic book (or Penthouse magazine), and scrounge up enough courage to say “Hello” because maybe, just maybe, the girl with the animé eyes would say “Hi” right back.
Then, Regine Velasquez added her voice to second-the-motion because, young and confused as we were back then, we literally took two steps back after that one step forward.
Huwag na magalinlangan pa
Kung gusto mo ako lumapit ka
Huwag nang patorpe-torpe pa
Minsan tuloy ako'y naiinis na
Di mo ba ito napapansin
Na ako'y may pagtingin din
Di mo ba ito napupuna
Na gusto na rin kita
(Repeat I)
Bakit ka ganyan
Puros ligaw tingin ka na lang
At nung minsan lalapit ka na
Bakit biglang tumalikod pa
KORO:
Urong sulong ka
Bakit ka ganyan
Urong sulong ka
(Repeat Koro twice)
Huwag nang pag-isipan pa
Kung gusto mo ako aminin mo na
Huwag nang patorpe-torpe pa
Minsan tuloy ako'y naiinis na
Bakit ka ganyan
Hindi kita maintindihan
Damdamin mo'y tinatago pa
Mabuti pang sabihin mo na
(Pound in message by repeating Koro until fade)
Regine’s song had more urgency. She didn’t seem to understand that we were studying hard, that while we fantasized about women, we had other dreams like becoming a member of the Supreme Court. She nagged us, bullied us and called us names. Torpe! Worst of all, she mocked our heartsick, distant yearning as nothing but “ligaw tingin”.
But it was Leah Navarro who delivered the coup de grâce.
Boy, mga sulyap mo'y malambing
Little boy, ngiti mo'y type ko rin
Datapwa’t walang mangyayari sa ligaw tingin
Boy, gusto mo ba akong yakapin
Little boy, halika't subukin
Ibig kong ang buong puso mo'y maging akin
Ligaw tingin
Lagi ka lang ligaw tingin
Kumilos ka ng mayroon marating
Ligaw tingin
Halika sa aking piling
Kailangan kong ikaw ay maangkin
Boy, Pag-Ibig ko'y iyong iyo
Little boy, nasasbik ako
Bilisan baka magbago pa ang isip ko
Shabada papara para para para
Shabada papara papapa
Shabada papara para para a
Ligaw tingin
Lagi ka lang ligaw tingin
Kumilos ka ng mayroon marating
Ligaw tingin
Halika sa aking piling
Kailangan kong ikaw ay maangkin
Boy Pag-Ibig…
We were men. We had come of age. And yet, we were being dismissed as little-boys in a driving tempo that had the women dancing the swing while we watched. Unacceptable. So, we stepped up, manned up and got hitched.
Now, I see it clearly. We were like hapless fish—hooked, reeled in, then pounded senseless and captured. In the 50’s they blamed it on the bossa nova. We can look back and point to the Pinoy Girl-Power Pop Songs of the 1970’s. Not that I’m complaining.
Shabada.
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