17 October 2016

Oh Note Divine!

We were two gladiators locked in a fierce battle. “OK, your turn,” Dickie said after inflicting minor injury to my ear. Finding inspiration from Braveheart (“… they may take our lives but they’ll never take… OUR FREEDOM!”) I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply and, in a high-pitched falsetto commonly associated with Chinese opera, warbled:

Oh naaayt… Deee-VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYN!

Despite all the effort I put into it, the sound I made mimicked the dying yaps of a Chihuahua with a marble lodged in its trachea. That wasn’t my intention, of course. I was aiming for the long, gravity-defying whistle note Mariah Carey unleashed in her rendition of “Oh Holy Night”, that part in the final chorus where she trilled like an angel in the throes of multiple orgasms. For almost an hour, Dickie and I have been on the phone, competing to see who could come closest to that note, the sonic equivalent of Mt. Everest’s summit.

Why, you might ask, would two seemingly sane individuals engage in such a contest and risk laryngeal bleeding? For one, Dickie and I love to pit ourselves against each other. Competition is one of the four marble pillars of our enduring friendship, the other three being our passion for music, our contempt for certain talentless celebrities and our propensity to follow stalk attractive guys at malls. Over our four-year stay in high school, we competed to see who could design the best Olympic logo (me), who could run faster (him), who could fake a cheerful demeanor towards unpleasant people more unconvincingly (him by a mile), and so on.

For another, Alvin was able to hit that note. Alvin was a gangly sophomore and a member of the school’s much maligned chorale group. One time, during an a capella performance of “If I Ever Fall in Love” at the auditorium, Alvin woke the audience up by hitting the perfect Bb6 whistle note. Dickie and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows, our thought bubbles reading: “If this dweeb can do it, so can we.” Hence, our sing-off.

After seventeen attempts to hit The Note, Dickie was, so far, the over-all leader with his uncanny vocal imitation of a heart monitor flat line beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, which trumped my simulation of squeaking windshield wipers. Nonetheless, I was confident in my ability to come from behind and snatch victory in my next attempt. I could almost feel the whistle note surging up my respiratory system, eager to escape and shatter glassware. I cleared my throat. I opened my mouth. I sang.

Meanwhile, three houses away, Mrs. Francia, a retired piano teacher and stray cat collector, decided to make a phone call. So she picked up the receiver, placed it on her ear and, due to her random misfortune of sharing a party line with us, heard:

... eee-VAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYN!”

It was the sort of soul-piercing noise one would hear in a serial killer’s dungeon: the muffled shrieking of a gagged victim who had been subjected to helium gas and was now about to be skinned alive. Not exactly the dial tone Mrs. Francia had expected. The death-scream caused Mrs. Francia to utter an obscenity (“Ay puta!”) and slam the phone, which, in turn, caused Dickie and I to explode in a gas of laughter as only two best friends could.

16 comments:

rjpebs said...

Haha! You really are a mariah fan! Divine! :-)

rjpebs said...

haha! YOu really are a mariah fan! :-D

i'm a narnian said...

we should invite Dickie to a videoke night! baka mas maganda ang duet niyo ng When you Believe. LOL

Ralph said...

LOL! I feel sorry for Mrs. Francia! As always, nice post! :) I wonder what happened to the "Memoirs" post btw.

Keep on cracking us up! :)

E.R. said...

love it. I remember doing it also as a kid haha

r-yo said...

napagkamalan tuloy akong baliw dito dahil sa katatawa mag-isa. brilliant, as usual!

MisterHeuge said...

@rjpebs: Ssh.. don't tell anyone. ;-)

@i'm a narnian: I'll invite him one of these nights.

@ralph: Thanks. The "Memoirs" thing was too much work.

@e.r.: I still do it even as an adult. Hehe.

@r-yo: Salamat. Pigilin ang tawa. Hehe.

Sunshine said...

oh my! tawa ako nang tawa. akala ng asawa ko, ano nang nangyari sa akin. hahaha!

red the mod said...

I love her rendition of that. Even the live performance replete with the trademark chorale ensemble. But, alas I am unable to do a decent whistle note to save my life.

Unfortunately contratenors can only do what their instruments can provide. I can shift to upper palate, but seem to fall short of the glory note.

Still, I big fan of her. Heck, if I were straight I'd make a pass.

A riot, as always sir.

loudcloud said...

Mrs. Francia, in the off-hand chance you might be reading this, for your very own sanity, start relocating!

jumpin rooftops said...

Hahaha! This kind of reminded me of countless nights of perfecting the whistle note when i was a kid.(Emotions - my personal favorite!) Almost had it, until puberty got in the way...

MisterHeuge said...

@Sunshine: Sige, tawa lang ng tawa. Hehe.

@Red the Mod: Thanks. I think it's the definitive version of "Oh Holy Night." Weird thing is, now that I'm older, it's easier for me to pull off the whistle note.

@Loudcloud: Hehe. This happened several years ago so we no longer share a party line. She might even be dead by now. RIP.

@Jumpin Rooftops: Try doing it. You might be able to reach it still. =)

♥ ruby ♥ said...

Don't you just love reminiscing these kind of memories that you have with your best friend? :D

As usual, I lol'd here at the office. Next time, I'll read your posts in the confinement of my room para di ako mapagkamalan loony. hehehe. :D

I'd like to see you belt out a Mariah song in videoke. :D

MisterHeuge said...

@Ruby: Yeah. I enjoyed writing this because I got to reminisce all the crazy stuff we did back then. You MUST join us at our next videoke session. =)

dada said...

its been quite a while since i've last opened my account and i wonder why u change ur blog's name back to its original name?????

Misterhubs said...

@Dada It's because Euge and I are no longer together.

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