Videoke Anecdote

We were discussing the videoke culture and its ties to the awiting
bayan tradition of our ancestors in one of my classes this morning.

Which led me to remember a rather amusing (and at the same time,
annoying) experience that happened a few weeks ago.

Our neighbors, the ones in the houses directly in front of ours, like to
keep the videoke culture alive via renting those machines every
chance they get. You know, the ones with the numbered buttons,
accompanied by a large songbook which include your grandfather's
favorites. Not only do they do this regularly, but they also seem to
think that everybody else within a fifty mile radius wants to hear their
voices too. Thus, they hook up speakers to the said machine and turn
it up to full volume.

And the worst thing about it?

They start mid-afternoon and don't stop until the next morning.

It might sound like I'm exaggerating, but I'm seriously not.

And when you get right down to it, butchering "All by Myself" at two
in the morning is nothing but noise pollution.

Slight segue: Why do videoke singers have predilections for the
songs that are way out of their league? Seriously. They end up
screeching and wailing and doing everything but singing. I distinctly
remember one undecipherable song where our neighbor sounded like
a pack of wolves being strangled in mid-howl over a megaphone.

During an extreme case of this noise pollution, which involved
inebriation via San Mig Light, one of our other less liberal neighbors
called the local police-- the baranggay.

They came and told our neighbors, basically, to shut up. Our
neighbors, in retaliation, also said "Shut up." They defended their loud,
nails-on-chalkboard voices by saying that they were only celebrating
a baptism.

Uh-huh. At one A.M.

With a few threats of formal complaint, the baranggay officials left.
Everything was much quieter. Until, a few moments later, we heard a
loud crash. A beer bottle shattered near our gate. There was yelling.
Apparently, our neighbors thought we were the ones who called the
police on them.

You already know we weren't. This is due to the small, insignificant
fact that we don't have a telephone.

Those neighbors still avoid talking to us.

Good riddance.

And yes, they still sing. Loudly, I might add.

Culture is culture but some people just can't help abusing their Right to
Free Expression.