The popular image of Gregorio Honasan, the rebel soldier always on the run known as “Gringo,” continues to endure even if the man himself, now a statesman and senator of the Republic, is already keen to put that legacy firmly into perspective

“I put my money where my mouth is. And I have the wounds, physical, psychological, emotional to show for it.”

January 27, 2011 will go down in history as the day Senator Antonio Trillanes told ex-AFP Chief Angelo Reyes that he had no reputation to uphold, the day Colonel George Rabusa accused the unsuspecting Reyes of partaking in corruption while in the military. The insinuations took the heat off—at least for that day—ex-Comptroller Carlos Garcia.

It was also the day UNO had an audience with Senator Gregorio “Gringo” Honasan, who had inhibited himself from the said hearing, citing the fact that Comptroller Garcia is his “mistah.” As the hearing was being broadcast on television (but on mute in his office) we chat about 1986, life on the field, life on the run, urban myths, family, fitness, and finally being home.

The last time you were caught, you said something to the effect that, “I’m tired of running, I’m old.”

I’m tired of the entire system. It has been an interesting run, 62 years to be exact. Now, I’m working on legacy, not in terms of what positions I’ve held, the notoriety I’ve acquired— rightly or wrongly— but legacy in terms of my children.

There’s an urban legend that has you sky diving with a boa constrictor…

Allow me to tell you a short story. When I was assigned to the Sierra Madre in the ‘70s, there were only 11 of us in a Special Forces team. Our mission was to stop the rebel groups who were bringing in shipments of firearms. There was no entertainment whatsoever, and our transistor radios were unreliable. So, one time, our chickens—part of our early warning system—started making noise all at the same time. We went in to tactical mode: everyone got their firearms and started assessing the situation. So we start moving forward and examining our inner perimeter and, lo and behold, there was a baby python. I asked myself: “What is the use of these animals? Nothing. It feeds every twenty-seven days on live prey. If you want to feed it meat already cut up, you have to force-feed it.” That’s how I ended up with my first baby python.

As legend goes, the snake was wrapped around your body.

No, that’s media. First of all, if I kept it around my neck, there’s a possibility that it would choke me to death because it constricts. Second, it might have fallen off.

It was in my pocket. At that time, I expected that fact that I had my 3-foot python in my pocket, 6000 feet above Fort Masaysay in Nueva Ecija to be downplayed. It was 1986, and there were much more serious stuff.

Did you keep it?

I kept it until this other jump, where it got crushed under a parachute in a little bag. After that, my reputation started becoming public knowledge among the small military community.

How many times have you skydived?

About 3000 times (laughs). And my parachute did not open about seven times.

How did you get through those?

We have a reserve parachute, and of course the first word I utter is not the name of my wife or any of my children, I say “God!” So, I believe in God, yes! (Laughs)

Did you pack your own parachute?

Yes, of course! You still have an 80 percent chance of making a mistake even if you do it right— that’s only a 20 percent chance it will open. That’s like one accident every 10,000 jumps. Those are statistics! I’ve had seven malfunctions out of 3000—not bad! I’m still here in front of you.

Which is more fun, being a soldier or a legislator?

A soldier. There are more variables in being a legislator. Things are not what they seem at face value. You can’t even trust your instincts because it’s a different ball game, another battlefield. When you are a soldier, every thing is cut and dried. There’s an objective, you accomplish it, then you go back and you take R & R. Sleep three days straight and [then] back on your feet again.

As a legislator, you are responsible for making laws. That is an enormous responsibility, and the point of impact is when you vote—for or against—whether you are prepared or not. How you vote will impact people in the long-term. That takes its toll on you. The pressure, responsibility, and impact on what you believe will be the future of your children, grandchildren, and those of other Filipinos who trust you with their lives, with their future.

Would you have wanted to be a general?

Yes, but I didn’t. I was dishonorably discharged for a while—without the breaking of the saber on my shoulder, as we see on TV and movies—because of the uprisings that I participated in for which I have been forgiven through an amnesty proclamation. All benefits had been restored and providentially, I am in an interesting place now as a Senator of the Republic, from the darkness (literally) to the light. No regrets.

In the years after EDSA, how did it feel to be the object of desire while playing a key role in the event? 

You know, I don’t look at it that way. I think one of the most terrible things that happened in my life was my loss of anonymity. It’s hard to bring your children to the mall, though I still did. You can’t do what normal fathers and grandparents do. Your life changes. There’s an analogy, but I don’t want to make that analogy.

Oh please sir…

It’s like losing your virginity. Things changed.

Of course you wouldn’t have been oblivious to the fact that a lot of women found you terribly attractive?

Well, not according to my wife and children who went through a period of culture shock. But it wasn’t that extreme. They just couldn’t understand why I was getting all this attention when all I did was be an ordinary soldier responding to an extraordinary situation.

But you certainly looked the most virile of the iconic EDSA figures.

It’s just doing my job—not only to look the part, but also to be the part. In 1986, we were prepared to die, but we were not prepared to do what was necessary, to become true revolutionaries that would push for fundamental changes. President Marcos, and the next president, and again in 2001. You have to look at more systemic changes for it to be lasting and fundamental. The plan was to attack Malacañang, no concept whatsoever of People Power. We did not want to harm the occupants but present them to our people for judgment. We also wanted a national unification council that would pave the way for a calibrated transition to democracy, not leave the doors open, resulting in the things we observe now.

I had a force of 250 men and had to lead 30 men to assault the palace against 2000 men. Red (Kapunan) was leading a group of about 200 people with the late Congressman Coronel Aguinaldo against 6000 across the Pasig. The odds were not good. We were prepared to die and deliver the message that there were still decent elements inside the armed forces. At the start of meetings, we would find ourselves silent, and we’d look at each other and cry. Special Forces, Rangers, Airbornes—crying. It was a moral dilemma, going against the only president we knew. The problem? We did not die. Big problem. Big, big, problem.

In 1986, when the former president announced that a plot had been uncovered, and he mentioned my name and one of our members in the Reformed Armed Forces Movement, he was telling the truth but his credibility had been lost. My wife was watching and said: “Ano nanaman itong pinaggagagawa ninyo?” I stuttered: “This is something that I have to do, not for myself but for our country and for my people.” She said, “Okay” and gave two conditions: “do not surrender, and do not get caught.” With that, I was bullet proof, shock proof, anti-magnetic. I acquired an aura of invincibility. I went down and talked to some nuns, they asked me what I would do if the forces of the government attacked. I said, “I guess we will have to teach them a lesson.” They started clapping, and I didn’t know why. What’s so spectacular about a group of soldiers?

On the 24th, (then defense minister) Juan Ponce Enrile and Butz Aquino mounted that improvised stage. Enrile started saying, “This all happened because… of some young officers decided to make a stand not against any government but for good government.” And then he pulls me from the group and said, “This is one of them!” And then a million flashbulbs exploded, and I lost my anonymity.

And you have the name. Gringo is perfect. 

Gringo was from my cadet days. My name is Gregorio, after my grandfather. The upperclassmen said that Gregorio was baduy, old-fashioned. So they glamorized it. Spaghetti Westerns with Clint Eastwood were all the rage. “Gringo! I kill you for…”

So that’s really where your name came from?

Yes, that’s my stuntman name, but my friends call me Greg.

What is the secret of hiding well?

Anonymity. Something I lost.

But you lost your anonymity, and you were still able to hide well.

Yes, but I used costumes. One time I was in drag.

Were you in heels?

No, it affects your mobility. So I sat there, relaxing as if all is okay, and this cigarette vendor recognized me. That was the time I had 5 million on my head. I’ve stayed inside a coffin, on a stretcher, pretended to be a priest—which I had wanted to be earlier in life. I’ve given up sunlight, not getting necessary vitamins from it. I’ve woken up sweating, crying, bleeding.

Tell us something that we don’t know about Juan Ponce Enrile.

A father figure to me, but difficult to love as one. When you get to know him, you’ll begin to understand that he will be the best president that we will never have, because he is 86. But he’s Senate President. I feel pride and joy when I call him Mr. President.

On the senate floor…

Yes, but I don’t make that distinction anymore. He is my surrogate father that happens to be president of something. If it were the presidency of the homeowner’s association, I would’ve been just as proud.

How do you address him?

“Sir.” I have never gotten as close as whispering distance from his ears, it has always been straightforward, up front.

You have never called him Manong Johnny?

He insists on my calling him Manong Johnny. I call him Manong Johnny in front of other people because that’s what he wants, but privately, naturally, spontaneously, I call him “Sir.”

Part of a soldier’s work is the taking of lives; do you remember how many people you’ve killed?

I blackout my memory box. It’s not a pleasant experience. Even indirectly, even if it’s constitutional, for national security, self-defense… these are abstract. When you’re there, it’s very different. When I made this transition, this evolution for the better, I realized the value of human life, whatever side you are on. That is why I’m pushing for the peace process; this violence has to stop. But we have some work to do; we have to get a clear sense of our long-term policy.

There is a serious talk about the death penalty. Are you for or against it?

No. I have no data that would back up the claim that it would deter or significantly reduce crime. What would significantly reduce crime would be the certainty of resolution, absolution, or a verdict of capital punishment—the laws have to be strengthened. It’s not a burden that we impose only on our justice system or on the police; this is a war against citizenry. The criminals are saying that we can kill, we can murder, we can mutilate, we can burn, and we can detonate bombs and buses without regard. But you know, the most decisive battlefield we have yet to fight and win is the hearts and minds of our people. With their support, we can take it one step further. Imagine the people working with the police throughout the process. Like, when the evidence is filed in court, people have to step up and testify. The police will do its work, not because policy is clear, but in spite of the lack of clarity because the people are there to support them. I agree that any policeman involved in crime be thrown the book after due process. It’s a complex situation because we also have to look at the redress mechanisms, the grievance mechanisms, and the police administrations. Say a harassment case is filed against a policeman in any of a dozen bodies—his whole world must be turned upside down.

Any soldier in history that you look up to?

Not McArthur or Napoleon, maybe Hannibal. He was outnumbered three to one in the Battle of Cannae against the Roman legion, lampaso ‘yung Roman legions. One Filipino. General Isidro Agunod of the Philippine Air Force. He wrote his president a letter that said, “Mr. President, I have to retire one year before my due date because under your administration I have reached my level of incompetence.” He also said, “I am now beginning to be accused of an unexplained poverty.” Idol. He visited me when I was in prison aboard [a] ship and said, “You will not hear this from many people, especially media, but you have to stay the course.” After that, I left the ship with my guards.

How?

I was incarcerated aboard a 300 meter-long ship. My guards were Navy Seals. I was Army, so hindi ito kayang i-recruit ni Honasan. I talked to the team leader on Holy Thursday and said, “Look Lieutenant, I have to leave the ship. You have three choices: you shoot me, no hard feelings, that is your job; second choice is that you stay behind, but if I go and you stay behind, you’ll be court marshaled, but you’ll survive it. The third choice was interesting, I said, “You come with me, it’s an interesting life, no promises but sure as hell what we want for our country. “So he talked to the others, probably got a little drunk, came back. He said, “Sir we have made our decision. We will join you.”

You were the baron of your Philippine Military Academy (PMA) batch, who was the class goat, and where is he now? 

Coronel Tex Balmaseda, my kumpadre who is now in Hawaii, and into real estate. The goat of the class usually gets the most applause because he survives by the skin of his teeth.

Who among your “mistahs” are you closest to?

It’s a small group of senior citizens who do nothing but reminisce on past glories and think about our inability to do the things that we wanted to do, dreaming about being given back 10 or 20 years of our lives. Also, asking ourselves—openly or privately—“has it been worth it?”  And we all say, “Mukhang okey naman” in terms of our history, I think, and I say this without bragging that there will never be a class in the PMA like the notorious Class of 1971. (Both) General Carlos Garcia and Senator Ping Lacson were my classmates.

And can you imagine me sitting in a chamber where my colleague is Senator Bongbong Marcos, son of President Marcos, (and) with a president who is the son of former President Aquino? I have to walk on eggshells because somebody might dig into institutional memory and remember what I was to their parents.

Speaking of Bongbong Marcos, does he talk to you in the senate?

Yes! We like each other; at least, that’s what I think. I attend all his committee hearings. He seems like a nice guy and inclined to move forward.

And you would be okay with that?

Oh, yes. I would be okay with anybody who subscribes tabula rasa—a clean slate. That’s what this country needs is to move forward with less political baggage. Those cases in court with evidence—no problem. But cases like this, there’s more than meets the eye, ‘yung mga kasong alam mo na ang pinanggalingan politika lang, we should bury permanently. It’s the law of physics, if you have more weight, your power to weight ratio suffers. You cannot run as fast. The less political baggage we have, the faster we move. Look to the future instead of dwelling on our parents’ sins. I feel that’s what the Filipino people want, and I’ve said this to almost all presidential candidates in the last elections. It’s beyond the differences, the imaginary boundaries created by the extreme left and the extreme right, who are the minority. The broader mass, right of center or left of center, are decent, law-abiding people. You see the Armed Forces fighting for the people. The leftist CPP-NPA also says they are fighting for the people. So, why are they fighting each other? This escapes me. I may be a little weak in the head, but I don’t buy that. The Philippine Daily Inquirer has insinuated that I may be a little crazy, but I walked the way I talked, went out of my comfort zone, and risked my life. You can question my methodology but you cannot question my consistency. I put my money where my mouth is, and I have the wounds, physical, psychological, emotional to show for it. Our country cannot ask more from me.

Any plans to return to your trim 1986 body?

When I am motivated. I lost 50 to 60 pounds underground. And while incarcerated, I was given exercise time. Right now, I have to look the part so as not to draw attention. I have to look happy with the system, even if I’m not. I have to look harmless because of the political situation. That’s when I won after only three weeks campaigning as an independent. Modesty aside, [I was] the first truly independent senator to win. Nobody highlights this because it’s not good for media to highlight the success of serial coup planners. I digress—we’re talking about weight, no? So after winning in December, siyempre bagong senador ‘di ba? Andiyan lahat ng kakanin, and I ate all of it so I regained 50 pounds in a short period.

Who was the most annoying interviewee that the senate has ever invited for an inquiry?

I wouldn’t say annoying, but I look at him as a case-in-point and hope he doesn’t mind. Remember Jocjoc Bolante? You see senators saying to his face that he is guilty before due process and he says, “Mr. Senators please do not judge me in a hearing of legislation.” That’s what I call composure. This guy has managed— again, not annoying— to separate the acoustics that go with televised hearings with substance. He realized that until a case is filed against you, everything is white noise

I think a lot of them forget that it’s “in aid of legislation”. 

It’s not my style to pass judgment on the motives of my colleagues. You want reliable information from these witnesses but end up rattling them. In aid of legislation, Jocjoc Bolante was not effective. We weren’t able to extract anything from him. The purpose of the hearing is to get corroborating testimony. If you are not happy with what one person is giving you, and you have doubts about it, you match it with testimony of other people, then come up with a committee report. Senators are not here as soldiers, lawyers, or disciplines of where we came from. We came here to vote. When that moment comes, you better be sure you’re serious as a legislator; that you vote according to your best judgment. You must be a product of study, of experience, of your constantly re-calibrated moral compass, which is not located in your brain. Your brain is a product of what you see and what you hear, what is whispered to you, and what you feel. However, your heart feels for itself, and we Filipinos are geniuses at that. Like the French, we think with our hearts and occasionally, it brings us to the side of truth. I learned this from the late Senator Raul Roco,

Would you then say that you use your gut more than your head?

My heart. My gut is closer to an area where some people bring their mental and emotional functions. That muscle doesn’t even have ears and eyes. It’s just activated by an extra supply of blood, and it would be tragic if we would allow that to happen. But, I agree. Ideologies are propelled by the stomach. Somebody said, “An army moves on its stomach.” If you indoctrinate your men’s souls with just ideology, once they’re hungry, they’ll probably say, “Sir, can we have lunch first? We haven’t eaten in four days.” Practical considerations I’ve learned in a previous discipline are accomplishment of your mission and the welfare of your men, neither one of which can go without the other. You concentrate on your mission—your entire battalion is whipped out. If you concentrate too much on the welfare of your men—you will not accomplish your mission.

Least favorite politician?

Organized hypocrites. You cannot give what you cannot have. And it is not the monopoly of politicians. Politics per se is good, but too much partisan politics is bad. If you take sides when in fact you should only be on the side of public interest, that’s when something hits the fan.

How did you end up the senate’s biggest spender?

I work hard. I’m Chairman of three Committees, and I used to be Chairman of Energy and Agrarian Reform. The Freedom of Information Bill will fall in my lap because I’m Chairman of the Committee of Media and Public Information. I’m also Chairman of Public Order and Illegal Drugs, which are under one committee and a very big problem. I may spend more, but I don’t mind because if you notice, the difference between the others—and I’m inclined to compare—is about a few zeros from the decimal point. What I’m saying is, when I send people out to the field, I equip them. I want quality work. You really need to invest. Modestly aside, I will match my legislative record qualitatively, hindi naman ito paramihan, in terms of long-term impact on the lives of our people.

Take Agrarian Reform, it’s a centerpiece program that has been going on for generations that we forgot to monitor. If we’re serious about development, we must undertake land reform; not just distribute the land itself, but to redistribute the means of production. First step for the social issue, give them ownership. Democracy to me is not 50 percent plus 1, but choice. When we deprive them of that choice, democracy ceases to exist—that’s why we hate dictators. After ownership, we educate, train, and organize them into agrarian reform communities that would address the issue of economy of scales. I don’t want to convert Hacienda Luisita into a political issue because the president is part of the family that owns it.

More than that, we have to recapture our long sense of policy-making regardless of who is president. It’s a legacy issue, and a policy issue. I was telling some cabinet secretaries up for confirmation that you have to draw on the wisdom and experience of past administrations, learn from their painful and stupid mistakes so the next administration has something to build on—that is called legacy; that is called continuity; that’s called sustainability and that is also called, in a practical sense, insulating the institutions from the ravages of partisan politics. It’s why this conversation is more important to me because in a hearing, I’m just helping to form a quorum. Here, I’m telling you my story.

We asked you about Senator Marcos. Of course you were also colleagues in the chamber with Noy-Noy Aquino before he got elected president last year. Is it true that you shot him?

No. (That’s an) urban legend. I want to put it on record because some witnesses are still alive. The president’s son was shot by a group of 15 marines defecting to our side in 1987. They were moving to our side. I know because I was there. The same problem: we were willing to die but not willing to kill so I gave our troops 15 minutes to accomplish the mission without hurting the president. We could not withstand the public opinion globally if we took life. The same parameters that I used in ‘86. We did not want to harm former President Marcos so we applied the same. Now, eto, 15 marines defecting to our side and here comes a convoy, mabilis, e siyempre nataranta ang marines so they fired. Ganun yun. 

The legend goes that it was you personally who shot him, and media has reported it that way. 

Yes, that’s the legend. It’s just like a lie told a thousand times told to a media that’s taking sides. It’s perceived as the truth, what can I do?

How did you react then when you found out that he was shot?

Well of course I was sad because this was totally unnecessary—if we were given good government after ‘86. But you know, this is the 25th anniversary of EDSA, I don’t want to raise old wounds, and it’s not practical, politically.

Any regrets with family? You’ve been on the run a lot of times.

One regret is that I have been an absentee father and husband. I have no regrets with what they went through, that was beyond my control. I left my eldest son one time when he was 12. I said goodbye and said I had to do something. It was difficult to explain to a boy that if I don’t come back, you have to assume the role of the dad. I came back to them when he was 19. Can you imagine the time lost? My two daughters, when I was underground for seven years, my wife trained them to call me some other name but not Papa, Dad, or Tatay—they called me “Sweetheart.” When I rejoined them on the surface, they told their mom, “Mama, meron pala kaming papa?” They were only two or three years old. These are little pockets of regret that, given another chance, I would reconfigure.

Hopefully (and) not because of any violent objections from my wife, none of them will become politicians, soldiers, or rebels. That is why I became a politician, soldier, and rebel, so none of them would go through that. I’m very proud of them.

You’ve had many homes, how would you define a home now?

Home is where my wife, my five children, their wives, my daughters-in-law, my two grandchildren are—wherever they are. I’m not talking about their physical location, I’m talking about their virtual location, and where they are is where home is. I will find them, wherever they are.

And this has been your definition all throughout these years?

I may sound corny or baduy, but God, country, or family—all or nothing.

Did you ever consider any of your cells as home? 

Never. I felt strongly, even under those conditions, that I would go home sooner or later, vertically, or horizontally.

Now that you’re a senator, what do you enjoy most about being home?

The freedom where nobody can impose upon me to attend this or that.

But at home?

I’m ignored! I’m nobody at home. The superstars there—the senators and the presidents—are my wife, my daughters, and two grandchildren.

How is it at home with your children, accomplished artists in their own right? (His son Martin is an acclaimed painter while his other son, Karel, is one of the country’s best bass players and currently plays for jazz-funk-soul quartet Yosha with his wife. – Ed.)

Ah, that is something that you should attend one of these days. Whenever my wife and I would like to listen to live music, everybody gets together with his or her friends, and we have live music for free.

But two pieces of advice, I hope you don’t mind. When I was incarcerated, all doctors came to me, brain doctors, heart doctors, orthopedic doctors because I could not afford to die in detention. Their advice? Avoid stress—easy to say, hard to do. Life is stressful. Make time for exercise. Watch your diet and medication, whether corrective or supplementary. By the way, that’s all or nothing, like God, country, and family. Second, do not get sick—physically, psychologically, (and) emotionally. Once you get sick, everything stops. You cannot  work, you cannot think, you cannot sleep, so what good are you to your family, to your country, or to your God?

Photos by Juan Caguicla

Published in the March 2011 issue of UNO Magazine

Maggie Wilson dishes on growing up in Saudi Arabia, beauty pageant backstage drama, and that infamous video

It is a bit intimidating seeing Maggie Wilson for the first time. For one, she’s taller than most girls, and her legs are almost impossible to beat. Once you get past that, however, you will discover that she is laid back and easy to talk to; her stories less guarded and more candid than others in the same industry.

At the time of this interview, she and new husband Victor Consunji had just made the headlines with the Internet leak of their steamy, for-friends-and-family-only pre-nuptial video, which shows the couple making out in various states of undress. “We had no intentions of that being leaked on the Internet,” Maggie says. “It was actually Xeng Zulueta’s wedding gift to us because we really, really wanted Jason Magbanua to shoot our wedding, but he wasn’t available. Xeng and Jason are really good friends so she figured why not shoot a pre-nuptial video, but not do the regular pa-cute or pa-sweet video. Victor suggested, ‘Let’s do something raunchier, different.’ So we decided to do a sexier take on pre-nuptial videos.”

While the video shocked many people (which begs the question: If they were going to be offended, why did they view it?), it also delighted others, and more importantly, resulted in many couples wanting to do the same. “I feel like it’s revolutionary, and I think we’ve started a new trend, which is awesome,” Maggie says. “Everyone is entitled to their opinion but at the end of the day, we love the video. Everybody I love—my friends and family—love the video. We all love the video and that’s all that matters. So haters, please.”

For Maggie being married is not much different from going steady. “We’ve been living together for a while now so when we got married, it was more a formality. It was fun and sweet. It was one big event. It feels the same. I have a new ring on my finger.”

Pop goes the question

“Actually, I didn’t like him in the beginning,” Maggie says of Victor. “He was not my type. I don’t like clean pretty boys. I don’t like businessmen, but he was so kulit that I finally gave in. Actually, on the third date, he told me he wanted to marry me, and we weren’t even together yet! Sabi ko: ‘You’re crazy. Don’t call me tomorrow,’ but he was super kulit. Eventually, I figured out that we have a lot in common. He is a lot like me, but a guy. I guess the more I got to know him the more there was no doubt. You don’t question.”

So when Victor popped the question after nine months of being together, Maggie automatically said yes. “Me being paranoid, I would ask myself every day if I was sure (because I’m just 2). The answer was yes,” she says.

There’s a 12-year age gap between Maggie and her husband, something that doesn’t distress her one bit. “All of my ex boyfriends were at least eight years older than I was. I feel that I’m more mature than a regular twenty-one-year-old,” she says. “I enjoy the age gap. I enjoy learning from him because he’s traveled more, he’s experienced more, and I like to see how he views the world. I’ve dated older than him. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s also nice because he treats me like a baby.”

“He’s very disciplined,” she says. “With work, with everything. He likes to keep himself looking good and healthy. I tend to slack off sometimes, but he’s there to push me and discipline me, and teach me how to stay on track.”

Home sweet home

Maggie’s taken some time off work to concentrate on being a wife. Before getting married she was hosting and playing the bad girl on the telenovela, Beauty Queen.

“We just got married so I don’t want to jump back into work. I want to take in marriage first a little bit: be home when my husband comes home and be the domesticated wife I’m supposed to be. Cook for him, be there for him, wake up and sleep next to him,” she says. Her husband wasn’t fond of the long hours acting entailed. “He wants me to be home, which is something that I need to get used to because I’ve lived independently since I was sixteen. I’m enjoying it. I started watching Nikita yesterday. I cook for my friends.”

If you’re lucky enough to dine on Maggie’s table, make sure she serves her mashed potatoes, one of her specialties. She can make peanut butter ice cream from scratch. “I’m a foodie, and that’s kind of how I got into cooking,” she says. “I started watching Hell’s Kitchen, Master Chef, Top Chef. I learned how to make ice cream, sorbets, hors d’oeuvres and regular food like pasta, steaks, and burgers.”

Although it seems like she’s doing the whole domesticated wife bit, Maggie is still very much her own woman. For one thing, she’s not one of those who will allow their significant other to dictate what they wear. She says as much to the hair stylist who has commented on the shorts and thin sleeveless blouse she wears. Although she likes staying put for now, Maggie isn’t one to make her life revolve around home, at least not yet. “I have a girly day maybe once or twice a month to see my girlfriends, but I don’t usually go out without Victor. It’s kind of like he won’t go out without me, and I won’t go out without him. It’s not a written rule; it’s just like that. We don’t want to be apart, I guess,” she says.

Early years

Maggie was working on Beauty Queen and planning her wedding at the same time. “I was really, really stressed out from September until the wedding day, but it was good stress,” she says.

Maggie is best remembered as an MTV VJ, a job that she enjoyed and misses, but admits that she wouldn’t want to go through again. “I miss going to concerts, hosting concerts, and meeting new people. I miss the people I worked with like Kat [Alano] and Sib [Sibulo]. It was fun while it lasted, but I don’t think I would do it again,” she says. “I feel that I’m more at peace with myself now. Sometimes, when you meet these international artists, they can be douches, sleazebags, whatever. (I’m not going to mention names.) And, you have to deal with them. How am I going to go to work and deal with that, and then come home and like ‘Hi honey! So and so is a douche, and I had to deal with him today.’”

She wants to do more hosting in the future though, especially since she doesn’t think she’ll be doing soaps for a very long time, if ever at all. Given a choice, it’s what she prefers over acting, anyway. “The hours are shorter. You get paid to talk and ask questions. You don’t really have to act. You can be yourself. You get paid more, and you get to meet a lot of people which is great,” she adds.

If you were to go back in time to 10 years ago, and tell a younger Maggie Wilson, the daughter of a Scotsman and a Filipina based in Saudi Arabia that she was going to be a Filipino celebrity, she would have laughed at you. “I thought I was going to be either a tennis player or an interior designer. I was playing tennis since I was five, all they way until I left Saudi Arabia. I was pretty good at it, and I thought maybe one day I could play in the U.S. Open or Wimbledon, and then I moved here. I didn’t know anybody so I stopped completely because I didn’t know where to go. I had no friends when I moved here,” she says. “I try to get my husband to play, but he holds a racket like a baseball bat. I haven’t played in a while, but I’d love to.”

She says that she hasn’t visited Saudi Arabia in eight years (though her parents come to the Philippines at least once a year), but plans to visit the country soon with her husband. “I want to show him where I grew up, how I lived. I want to take him riding with me. I used to ride. I used to show jump as well. I lived on a ranch for three years, and that’s where I really got into tennis and riding.”

Living in the Philippines wasn’t a big shock however, as she used to travel a lot with her parents, going to the UK and the Philippines, which both her parents prefer because of the weather.

Although she goes into a slight trance when she talks about Arabian food, Maggie says that she doesn’t really miss living in Saudi. We don’t ask why, but we quiz her on what it’s like to be a woman in a country famous for its strict gender rules. “It’s a very strict society. Women have no power in Saudi Arabia. Women are not allowed to drive. We have to wear the black robe, which is called an abaya, and occasionally the scarf, which is called the tarha. Not many women are allowed to work. If a woman wants to work, you’re only allowed to be a nurse, domestic helper, doctor, or a waitress,” she says.

Yeah, It’s Over Now

As I write the closing year’s editor’s note, my right arm is wrapped in a fiberglass cast because I inadvertently injured my right wrist. In a skateboarding accident.

Yes, skateboarding.

Oh, don’t be so ageist. Just because I have come into an age group that can be generally rounded to forty. Just because the hair on my scalp does not regenerate as fast as I would like it too and just because I can watch pornographic material without seeking my parents’ approval, it doesn’t mean I’m old. It just means I’m regressing.

And for your information, I was skateboarding as part of a segment on my show (warning: shameless plug ahead), GMA News TV’s Best Men.  I have done more shameless things on the show–like witnessing a manunuli take his instrument to a grown man’s foreskin and ballroom dancing in a body hugging sequined shirt that exposed my cleavage all the way down to my bellybutton–but this was the only segment to have caused me long-term physical harm.

Due to my condition, I will not be able to generate brand new drivel for you this month. So I hope you don’t mind if I peddle some regurgitated drivel by talking about a certain body part–damaged, fractured, abused, or otherwise–from my new book It Only Hurts When I Pee: RJ Ledesma’s Imaginary Guide to Bodily Gases, Hair Loss and Pink Parts.

Warning: A lot of pink parts will be flashed in this issue.

Jingle Balls

According to fertility specialist Dr. Robert Winston, the size of a primate’s testicles can tell us a lot about a species’ sexual practices.

In the seventies, British biologist Roger Short noticed something peculiar about ape anatomy. He found that chimpanzees had extremely large four-ounce testicles that produced prodigious amounts of sperm (although I am trying not to imagine how he found out that chimps produce prodigious amounts of sperm). Mating among chimps is a fairly unregulated and casual affair especially since they are not being monitored by the MTRCB. In fact, there seems to be no awareness as to the paternity of any of their offspring.

On the other hand, silverback gorillas–the largest of the living primates that sport large canine teeth and have a growl fierce enough to make human testicles retract to the pit of their stomachs–have miniscule testicles. More miniscule than even those of some congressmen.

Unlike chimpanzees, silverback alpha males take possession of a harem of female gorillas. And silverbacks are secure in the knowledge the female gorillas will rarely sneak off for an illicit romp in the wilds (unless they encounter a very brave and randy male chimpanzee). Gorillas rarely have intercourse, because for males with a harem, sexual access is guaranteed. Therefore, Mr. “I Am King of the Apes” only needed a small amount of sperm and, consequently, a small payload. So, gorillas evolved testicles that were small but terrible.

Now, let us put things into perspective: gorillas weigh four times as much as chimps, but a chimp’s testicles weigh four times as much as a gorilla’s. What can we infer from this? Well, the biologist Roger Short appears to have stumbled, not on testicles, bur rather on anatomical clues about a species’ mating system: the bigger the balls, the more polygamous the females.

Human testicles tread the middle ground when it comes to primate testicles. Measured as a proportion of body weight, our human teabags are four times the size of a gorilla’s but less than a third of the size of a chimpanzee’s.

According to The Red Queen: Sex And The Evolution of Human Nature, ancestral man probably lived in a pseudo-harem system, but he was also prepared for occasional female promiscuity. Ancestral females copulated with more than one male in a month fairly often.  Given this, human males evolved testicles potent enough to combat a moderate amount of sperm competition from other males, but they certainly didn’t need to stockpile enough artillery as required by chimpanzee gonads. If Goldilocks were a scientist, she would say that our testicles were just right.

And now that that’s out of the way, allow me to give you a lowdown on what to check out in this special year-end issue of UNO.

Radio DJ Angelika Schmeing-Cruz, more popularly known as Angelicopter to her avid listeners, graces our cover for the very first time and we couldn’t be happier. If you’ve been living under a rock, you might not have known that she’s also a castaway and now a dropout in this year’s Survivor Philippines (along with teammate Jackie Forster), proving to everybody that just because you’ve lost the battle, doesn’t mean you’ve lost dibs on a magazine cover. Who are we to complain anyway?

We have also listed down the highlights of our year in our exclusive BARRAGE section, while respected male personalities Paolo Bediones, Basti Artadi, Luke Landrigan, and Dylan Ababou rule our BLASTER pages as they reveal their own lists of favorites in 2011 pop culture. Other men we idolize–rockstar Bamboo Manalac, actor Baron Geisler, and world-renowned animator Ronnie del Carmen–share their thoughts about life and career in our POINTBLANK, INTERVIEW, and SHOCKWAVE sections, respectively. And finally, music legend Jose Mari Chan teaches us how to write the perfect Christmas song in this month’s AFTERBURNER.

RJ Ledesma,

Editor-in-Chief

Illustration by Joel Fabonan

Every year has its share of significant events, whether fortunate, disastrous, or unexpected, and it’s probably just an illusion born of distance or the lack thereof that makes one year seem more momentous than another. Having said that, wow: 2010, eh? A new president, the end of an era in local music, upheavals in the entertainment industry, inhumane and regrettable tragedies, and some sweet triumphs in the international scene.
Maybe once in a while, we’d like a nice, boring, uneventful year, but 2010 was not that kind of year. Here is the kind of year that it was.

PRESIDENT PNOY

“Like many Filipinos, I was hopeful about the new administration when Noynoy Aquino was sworn in as President. But towards the end of 2010, like many Filipinos, I have yet to be impressed by his performance. It is apparent that PNoy remains incorruptible, and this continues to be his strongest suit. However, it is his performance, and not his moral high ground, that is now under scrutiny. I am also not yet convinced of the effectiveness of the people around him. So far, none of his chosen cabinet members have made a big mark on the country. It seems that some of them are not a good fit for the positions to which they were appointed.
I do commend the President for his firm stand on family planning, responsible parenthood, and a population management policy which respects various family planning methods. He did this despite the threat of possible excommunication by the Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines. I do wish that he is able to tackle the issue of the country’s unabated population growth, which continues to be a hindrance to our country’s development.
At this point I still have what I call ‘tentative optimism’ for the President’s remaining years in office. After all, as a Filipino, I can only want our government to succeed.”

—Cheryl Cosim, News Anchor/TV Host

CHARICE ON GLEE

“Charice on mainstream television proved that the Filipino is a world-class talent. Charice has opened the door and shown that Filipinos can go head-on with international stars. She’s put our country, our race on the global entertainment map!”
—Karen Davila, Broadcast Journalist/News Anchor

THE DEATH OF RADIO

“If video did indeed kill the radio star, 2010 brought us the complex case of a double dead potential suicide. With the plug pulled on NU107 and the premature passing of U92 occurring within months of each other, tongues wagged, faces sagged, and hopes dragged as music lovers across the nation mused over whether or not there was room for their kind in mainstream media anymore.
But the people behind these stations are lifers — their hearts and souls are devoted to the music, and to getting the music out there. So whether or not the frequency stays the same, as long as there’s a microphone and a speaker, or more to the point, a speaker and an audience, we haven’t heard the end of it all yet.”

—Sarah Meier, Model/Hip-Hop Enthusiast

DAMASO!

“When the history of this era is written, and Philippine society has become much more secular, with the church’s influence drastically downsized, Carlos Celdran’s dramatic act in 2010 will be recalled as a seminal moment.
Political movements throughout modern history have been fired up by singular acts and images: kneeling nuns and a Chinese protester in front of a tank, Bonifacio tearing up his cedula.
And now we have the blurry picture of a pudgy man in bowler hat holding aloft a sign that says ‘Damaso!’ inside a cathedral before an audience of bishops. The audacity of this non-violent act was brilliant political theater, creating a vivid connection between the villain of Rizal’s novel and the priests who stand in the way of reproductive health legislation. It’s an image that will not soon be forgotten.”
—Howie Severino, Documentary  Filmmaker/Broadcast Journalist

THE RETURN OF THE MARCOSES

“The return of the Marcoses was inevitable for two reasons. First, we are too damned easy to distract. A fruit fly has laser-like focus compared to us. We rage and tear at the issue, but when the news cycle inevitably brings up a new cause célèbre, we hop on that bandwagon without hesitation. We haven’t necessarily forgiven or forgotten that old issue; we’re simply more interested in that brand new thing.
Second, we are too prone to nostalgia, which is like beer goggles for history. Through the sepia haze, we pick out the best parts of the past and essentially ignore the less savory details until we’ve convinced ourselves that, back in the day, there were no poor people and gasoline was free.
It was within this environment of wistful attention deficit that the rehabilitation of the Marcoses organically unfolded. It happened naturally, following the normal course of events and apparently with the unwitting complicity of the people. We were so distracted by everything else that demanded our outrage, that the business of owning up to and taking responsibility for the past was put on the back burner. Also as time went by, the pre-1986 years eventually lost their ability to move people. Nostalgia softened our hindsight so much that even though hindsight is supposed to be 20/20, many of our people—our voters—ended up with a soft-focus version of the past.
Given these two reasons, the return of the Marcoses was truly just a matter of time. Funny then that, when the dust settled after the elections this year, people were still surprised.
(Ferdinand R. Marcos Jr. emerged as the seventh ranking Senator with 13,169,634 votes. His mother, she of the shoes, trampled her opponent for a Congressional seat with more than 100,000 votes. And his sister was practically crowned governor with almost 200,000 votes.)”

-James Jimenez, Comelec Spokesperson

JOHN MAYER’S A DOUCHEBAG

“On October 1st, I was really excited. I was going to meet John Mayer! And when I had heard I was one of the 30 he had let in, that got me even more pumped. I felt like I was special. But everything didn’t work out so well. It was pouring, and I was drenched, and tired. He made us wait for a whole hour before he let us in. I brought my friend who’s a really big fan of his, and we were both really excited to get our passes and other items signed. We brought markers and everything. Then when we get inside, I ask him to sign one autograph. He just snubs me and says, “No autographs. Just one picture then I’m done.” I was furious. I was drenched, I looked like shit, and my arm was in a sling – and he just shooed me away, like that. I was pretty sure I didn’t even smile during the picture. He wasn’t worth the smile, anyway.”

—Maia Puyat, Student

Love Note to the Poet/TV Host Guillaume Revillaume (Willie Revillame)

“by” Shalani Soledad

Mon chéri Guy,

If I had so far been quite quiet in our appearances together, it’s jast because I marvel at your poetry in motion—or rather the music of your hosting: I, the awed conductor before her expert concertmaster that is you. It is to you I owe my blooming state, or more precisely to your newfound elegance. Gone for the most part is your loud jejemon prancing, and in its place a comportment that hints at sublime self-doom, which is almost, if not very, Baudelaire. Haay, naku. Is it because I make sense? Of course not. I just meant to say, how admirable it is that you risked your life (Well, isn’t your career your life?) and, in the end, the network you once rendered service for is now eclipsed by the momentum you have given MVP-financed TV5. Aren’t we on to some Marxist project? To pit against each other these petty capitalists to our lofty glee! Service to the Filipino and all that. C’mon. I’m sure that by now even your estranged comrade Sucaldito appreciates our agenda. Soon we shall turn the bourgeoisie on its head, but even so, we’ll still indulge in their frivolité like my current fashion sense with my very curves as accent. Enough of my frumpy phase with PNoy! For you, I have become unpoemed. I enjoy our flirting and bantering. I love your company, period. I just wish you’d return someday to your original vocation. Write me something about the current lotto mania. Write me anything—just write. Je t’aime.

Shalani.

Revillaume replies by text:
Aaahh, Shalani/I would wield this/space and sing to you/my verses, but/another time. ü

-Ricky  S. Torre, Writer/Painter

ON PACQUIAO’S WIN OVER MARGARITO

“I don’t think Filipinos really appreciate the greatness of Manny Pacquiao just yet, even though the whole country comes to a standstill every time he fights. We attribute his greatness to traits we, as Filipinos, consider sacred: his indomitable will, his quiet humility, his tireless work ethic, and his strong faith in the Almighty. And yet, other Filipino boxers have been just as courageous, humble, hardworking, and as faithful, but they never quite reached the heights that Pacman has. Manny Pacquiao’s greatness lies beyond platitudes and clichés. We might never see anyone quite like him again.”

-Jaemark Tordecilla, Sports Blogger (firequinito.com)

BAR EXAM BOMBING

“On September 26, 2010, at 5:00 in the afternoon as the 2010 Bar Examinations ended, evil came to Taft Avenue bearing a bomb and garbed in greek letters.
It was both too loud and too strong to be a firecracker but it was unimaginable that it would be something else.  Yet, as the 2010 Bar Examination drew to a close, almost to the minute, as 5:00 PM struck, a bomb was lobbed into a densely packed crowd of law students, parents, friends and loved one as well as bar candidates who were slowly filtering out of La Salle Taft.  It injured over 40 people and resulted in two female law students losing their extremities.
Immediately, the suspicion–which turned out to be founded–was on fraternities, though at that time, it was unclear which.  Yet, despite the raw information coming in, it was unbelievable, almost unimaginable that even the most addle-brained fratman would think of lobbing a grenade into a crowd simply in the name of “brotherhood.”  But on September 26, 2010, the unbelievable happened.  The traditional “Salubong” for the Bar which, in the past had been a joyous and festive occasion, turned out to be the bloodiest.
I have always been outspoken against raternity violence and have never understood what it is in the fraternity culture that would lead them to do unimaginable things, like throwing a grenade into a crowd.  The bombing of the Bar Salubong 2010 has demonstrated to me that the same spirit that animates their drive for excellence  is also the same spirit that would lead to this propensity for violence. It appears that the thin line that existed between legitimate greek-lettered societies and street gangs is often obliterated by the simple flip of Harvey Dent’s two-faced coin.”

-Theodore Te,UP Law Faculty member/ human rights lawyer

Originally published in the December 2010 – January 2011 of UNO Magazine

We all love Heart Evangelista, but she’s all set to break our collective hearts

Words by Philbert Dy / Photography by Juan Caguicla

There will come a time when Heart Evangelista won’t be on the public radar. At least that’s what she thinks. She will gladly confess to how much fun she’s having as a celebrity, or how she’s enjoying the perks of her fame. At the same time, she will mention how this life has kept her from pursuing other things, how it’s kept her from living a normal life.
“I really wanted to be a vet,” she says. “Now it feels like it’s too late. Maybe if I retire next year, I’ll become a vet. Otherwise…”
She leaves the thought hanging. In truth, it’s already a foregone conclusion. She has two years left on her contract, one that pretty much keeps her on the soap opera grind. Her latest, Dwarfina, has her spending 18-hour days in front of a green screen, running and jumping across an imaginary landscape where everything is just a little too big for her.
Not that she doesn’t enjoy it. “It’s lot of playing with imagination, since there’s really nothing there. I have to imagine the people I’m talking to, and all the things I’m seeing. It’s like I’m just a kid playing.” She works these days largely by herself, not even having the benefit of interacting with a co-actor. On this show, she is strangely isolated, working towards things that she can’t even see.

It’s striking to hear how pragmatic she is about the entire business. While other actresses will talk for ages about dream roles or incessantly praise every single aspect of their lives, Heart seems to acknowledge that there’s a sort of falseness in this kind of life—that it might not be the most fulfilling path for a young person.

Part of it is simple cost-benefit analysis. Right now, as a major star, she enjoys plenty of perks. “It’s great to get all sorts of free stuff from people, and it’s easy money.” She pauses. “Well it’s not really easy, but it’s fun. It’s a fun way to make a living.” The only role she’s ever complained about is one that had her hidden under prosthetics. She gestures roughly around her nose and mouth area. “They had all of this covered, and I had to cry. It was all wet around that area all day—so uncomfortable.” It isn’t the discomfort that she’s actually unhappy with though. It’s the fact that the show wasn’t primetime, and that the audience wasn’t commensurate to the effort that she put in.
Though most would probably laugh at the idea of acting being hard work, it must be noted how much real effort goes into being a public figure. Being a major celebrity is really about limits. Endorsement deals and roles come with certain obligations. Heart is constantly on a strict diet. She carries around a carton of orange juice, which seems to serve as her primary source of everyday energy. She claims she’s still able to pig out, but judging from how much was left from the chicken fajitas she was sharing with her road manager, her definition of “pigging out” is very different from that of the average person. She always has to be mindful of how she looks in pictures; a stray bit of cleavage might cost her a lucrative endorsement deal. On screen, all manner of conditions crowd her acting process. It might be natural for one of her characters to swig beer straight from the bottle to deal with a painful breakup. But natural isn’t a priority for some of the companies that employ her as an image model. She might have put everything into a scene, come out with the most truthful performance ever, but if she drank from a bottle, she’d have to reshoot.

Heart just seems keenly aware of the business side of show business. As much as people like to talk about perfecting the craft or creating art that connects with people, success in the current show business environment is really about keeping an eye on the bottom line. Actuary-like calculations play a major role in production. Networks have an arcane set of mathematics that weighs the risk and reward of placing a star in a certain kind of project. Heart seems to know her role and the system, and she’s decided to play it as smartly as she can.
She is the only actress I’ve ever talked to that prefers doing soaps over movies. “Soaps have so much more power,” she says. She explains that soaps will expose you to more people; that it keeps you in the public eye for a much longer period of time. While she cops to the idea that a movie might be more satisfying on a craft level, in terms of pure business, soaps just makes more sense. She may end up doing a lot more work, but the prestige and the accompanying perks are simply greater.
She’s looking ahead to the day when these perks will fade, when she’ll be older in an industry that disproportionately values youth. She doesn’t want to still be putting in the hours that she does on set and not have the prestige that she enjoys now. The strangest thing about all this is how she says it without an ounce of cynicism. The same sentiments have been heard from faded stars, every word dripping with bitterness. But Heart talks business with the same brightness and positivity that she treats everything else. She might be a veteran of the business, and she might have one eye out the door, but there’s no sense that she hates any of it. She’s genuinely happy to be where she is. She’s just aiming for something more.
“Even if I could maintain a certain level of prestige, I’d probably only show up in two films a year.” She balks at any larger commitment. “I’ve been doing this for twelve, thirteen years now, and I feel like I’ve missed out on so much.”
“I really admire actresses like Bianca King or Iya Villania who study and work at the same time. I don’t know how they do it.” Heart looks genuinely puzzled. “I’m still an undergrad,” she says. “I’d like to go back to studying…probably something related to what I’ve been doing. Maybe fashion.” She also talks about someday playing a part in the family business. “I’d like to see a Barrio Fiesta in Greenbelt,” she says. She talks about modernizing the menu, tailoring it to fit the younger generation.
Heart talks about expanding her horizons. She wants to travel. “I think about all the girls my age. They’ve experienced so much more than me. They’ve been to more places.” Heart sees herself as sheltered, her life as a celebrity having kept her in a state of arrested development. “I don’t even know how to do bank stuff,” she says with just a hint of frustration. The life of a celebrity has its perks, but in the end, it’s just a bubble that’s waiting to be popped. Heart wants to be ready for life outside the bubble.
So while we still have a couple of years to enjoy Heart Evangelista’s effervescence on television, I suggest that fans savor what we have now. Right now, she is still happy to be everywhere, to be someone who has the privilege of entertaining the masses on a daily basis. But she is already looking at the life beyond that of celebrity. She is going to try to live a more normal life, using the same work ethic that she used to excel in show business in order to succeed in other, less absurd fields. And while nothing is ever a sure thing in this world, it feels like Heart will find success in whatever it is that she ends up doing. The keen business sense that she already exhibits will likely serve her well. Her odd mix of pragmatism and positivity ought to make her a pretty effective leader.
Yes, she might still show up in a movie or two, never forgetting how much the industry has done for her, but Heart is growing up. She seems to think that there’s more to life than being a celebrity. She’s all set on breaking our collective hearts, depriving audiences of her natural charm. Like the greatest love affairs, this just isn’t meant to last.

Just a friendly reminder to the fans — there’s another way to purchase UNO Magazine and that’s through our online edition made available with a partnership with PressReader. All you need to do is head over to www.pressdisplay.com or download the PressReader app (available for Android and on iOS).

You can search back for previous issues or download our latest issue featuring Anne Curtis on the cover. If you’re new to PressReader, the service allows for 8 free downloads so make sure you choose UNO Magazine and you can get almost a year’s worth of issues!

THIRD TIME’S A CHARM

You can never, never have enough of Anne Curtis.

And as we celebrate UNO’s 8th anniversary, we thought it would be perfect to have one of best-selling cover girls shot by lensman extraordinaire Xander Angeles (whose cover and pictorial prove that Anne can be smokin’ without having to light up a cigarette).

So as part of my personal thank you to Anne for gracing our cover, my wife and I contributed about two hundred bucks to Anne’s paycheck by watching Star Cinema’s No Other Woman, which is by far the highest grossing local movie of the year (Incidentally, they shot the closing scene of the movie in this really great weekend market called Mercato Centrale.

Judging the copious amount of tears I, este, my wife shed during the movie, I’d say Anne delivered quite a stellar performance while sharing screen time with my cousin, Derek Ramsay.

Ok, ok. My reel life cousin Derek Ramsay.

Allow me to explain. Aside from editing this fine men’s magazine of purty pictures and high-fallutin’ words, another one of my jobs that help subsidize my credit card loans is that of a – cough, cough – actor.

For all those who had the first signs of pubic hair emerge in the late eighties, you may remember me as a chubby, be-pimpled and curly-haired adolescent hawking a carbonated orange softdrink in a series of commercials that ran from 1988 to 1991.

But ever since that initial surge in caffeine and sugar-fueled popularity, I have been clawing my way back into limelight. Unfortunately, my attempts at a showbiz comeback has probably been less successful than that of Jojo Alejar’s

Nonetheless, I have had a couple of flashlight moments in today’s showbiz scene.  After twenty or so years in the media business, I have all but four movies to my credit. I played Sam Milby’s cousin in Star Cinema’s And I Love You So, Cherie Gil’s lawyer in Working Girls 2010, and guest roles in indie films Senior Year by Jerrold Tarog and Kaye for Komiks by Arnold Arre. Then I also played a recurring role as Derek Ramsay’s cousin on ABS-CBN’s Habang May Buhay and Gretchen Barretto’s lawyer on ABS-CBN’s Magkaribal  (Can you spot the trend? I played both Sam and Derek’s first cousins. Therefore, I am related to greatness).

In my desperation to reclaim the spotlight, I even created, executive produced and appeared in my own late night show (no, it is not Jojo A All the Way), it was the critically-acclaimed (my mom was very critical of it) cult hit (the cult members are now in hiding) Studio 23’s The Men’s Room with UNO contributor and stand-up comic Tim Tayag.

But alas, even me appearing half-naked on late night television did to upgrade my popularity to the highly carbonated levels that I enjoyed in my youth.

Nowadays I have to show interested parties within a ten feet radius my pocket album filled with newspaper clippings and 80s photos to remind them of my royal status. However, there are a few out there who still appreciate my thespian efforts.

Why, just recently, I was buying a cup of coffee in one of the ubiquitous café that line Tomas Morato when a giddy young man in his early twenties tapped me on the shoulder and asked if he could take a picture with me.

After five minutes of fixing my hair and applying foundation, I gladly obliged. When our thirty-minute photo session ended (I insisted he take our picture from several hundred angles), I thanked the young man for the opportunity.

“Remember to tag me!” I said to him as he waved goodbye.

The young man waved back. “Thanks again, Mayor Bistek!”

-RJ Ledesma
Editor-in-Chief

[Shameless plugging ends here.]

directed and cut by Jason Tan
produced by Dix Buhay
music by Malek Lopez

Interview by Denise J. Mallabo / Photos by Mike Vorrasi

Not long now I bet we’ll be hearing more about Jeff Kite, a 32-year-old Chicago native and LA-based musician. His drive for music got him on board as the keyboard player (and occasional guitar player) for Strokes front man Julian Casablancas, whose tour promotes his solo endeavor. The tour has already ended, and now it’s time to work on his own music path. He is busy finishing an EP called Kite and playing alongside musicians such as drummer Alex Carapetis, Muse’s Dominic Howard, and The Killers’ Mark
Stoermer in gigs. To categorize his music is a bit tricky, but this writer would like to say that it’s light, packed with synth and beats, it’s addicting and has hooks that will leave you humming along with it for days—don’t say I didn’t warn you. Let’s get to know this talented being and his process for making music.

At what point in your life did you decide to become a musician?

In high school, I was either 15 or 16. A friend of mine had a drum set in his basement that I loved playing, and I eventually got one of my own. Soon after that, I started a band with some friends. We were two guitarists and two drummers, which sounds like a pretty cool idea now, but it was only because we didn’t know any other musicians. About
a year after that, I took an electronic music class at school. It was around then that I got into synthesizers and composition. So I switched from the drums to piano.

Has it always been your dream to become a musician? If no, when you were a kid what did your parents want you to be when you grew up?

It was one of my dreams. There were others—there still are. Every so often my dreams change because my curiosity pushes me in new directions. But I always loved music. My parents just wanted me to make a living and be happy.

You play a lot of musical instruments, which one would think you’re most good at and which one would be the hardest to learn?

I’m probably a better piano player than I am drummer or guitarist or anything else. The hardest to learn? Depends on the person. Sometimes a person is just hardwired to learn a certain instrument, and their technique develops very naturally. Doesn’t mean they don’t have to practice. People assume that playing triangle or shaker or tambourine is easier than playing piano or guitar or harp or whatever. But the truth is that there is as much expression and musical subtlety in a tambourine as there is in a piano.

Growing up, who influenced you to listen to good music? Who are your influences and why were they a huge part of your being a musician?

As a little kid I just kind of listened to whatever was on the radio or MTV. My older sister wasn’t like Zooey Deschanel in Almost Famous, giving me Led Zeppelin records or The Who records or anything. Eventually I got into all those bands anyway. But looking way back, I remember listening to my dad’s Beatles records a lot. And I was definitely listening to pop music like Michael Jackson and New Edition. My first cassette tapes were Run DMC’s Tougher Than Leather and The Fat Boys single “The Twist.” I think all those 80s pop and hip-hop beats stuck with me, which is why I was initially attracted to the drums.

How did you become part of The Sick Six?

I got a phone call from Julian Casablancas’ manager. Julian needed a replacement for the keyboard-guitar player quickly, because he had a show in Tokyo a week later. I was visiting my family in Chicago at the time, so I had to race back to LA and learn all my parts pretty quickly. We just kept going from there.

For the complete article, click this link!

To download the August – September 2011 issue, go to www.pressdisplay.com. Just search for UNO Magazine.

Interview by Denise J. Mallabo

Special thanks to Daniel Weiner and John Goschin from B|W|R PR

An UNO exclusive interview with comedian, musician, and writer Donald Glover, a.k.a. Childish Gambino

Versatility is the name of the game nowadays; you must be able to do countless things and must do it well in order for you to stand out and be counted. If there’s anything that Donald Glover has, it is that! (And no, he’s not related to actor Danny Glover, although he gets that a lot.) This 27-year-old star who plays the jock Troy Barnes in the NBC hit comedy show Community is also a rapper with the moniker Childish Gambino—a name he believes to have found in a Wu-Tang Clan name generator. (Nice!). A graduate of NYU with a degree in Dramatic writing, Glover was given a Writers Guild of America Award for his work in 30 Rock. As Childish Gambino, he already released three albums, EPs, and remixes, and all of it for free and can be downloaded from his site. Find out what’s keeping this talented man busy, why everything should be kept free and why he loves Filipinas.

I know that you’ve come a long way since Derrick Comedy, but can you give me a brief history about it? How did the ever so popular “Bro
Rape” come about?

My friends and I started hanging out in college and we started doing videos together which is just fun to do. “Bro Rape” was one of the first videos that we made; the idea came from watching a bunch of guys at a party, and it seems like that’s what they were doing. So we just dove and it became popular.

What have you learned from your comedy days in college that you still apply up to now?

People like free stuff! People tend to laugh more when it’s free. We used to do shows that were free and all our videos were free, but when we started doing shows that were $8, people are more reluctant to laugh. Keep it free for as long as you can.

Were you funny when you were a kid ?

When I was a kid I was kind of the class clown. I got into trouble a lot, like my mom had to work on my attitude. My favorite artists when I was a kid were Eddie Murphy, Chris Rock, and I liked Looney Tunes a lot. Looney Tunes cartoons were like my favorite thing. I thought they were really funny.

You’ve worked as one of the writers in 30 Rock. How was it working with Tina Fey and the rest of the cast? What was the best thing that you learned from Tina?

That experience was probably the best experience that I’ve had to date. It broke me [in] like I’ve got my foot in the door that way, and Tina Fey is probably the most instrumental in [getting] me to do movies, writing, and music. I probably wouldn’t be here without her. The big thing I learned from her? I guess just be yourself; that’s the only thing that you can do that no one else can do.

Why do think SNL passed on you?

Probably because I wasn’t a good suit for that show. I like sketch [comedy] a lot, and I know those guys, and they’re really great, but I don’t think that I can think of a better place for me to be than on the show Community. It’s perfect, and I really love doing that job. I think that SNL would have been a little hard for me.

What was the first break in your comedy career that really made you realize that being a comedian is something that you want to do for a living, or at least want to hone as a craft?

I guess that moment was when I was in college I joined a sketch group called Hammer Cats for fun. It was the first time that I realized that “Oh! You can do this as a job?” I’d always like to be funny. I’d always like to do funny stuff; I didn’t know anybody that would actually pay you for it. So when I realized that it was actually a thing that you can do
as a job, ‘cause I love goofing around with my friends. I love it, I didn’t think people would pay to see that, and people are paying to see it now once you’re really good at goofing around. So I guess whatever you like doing as a joke or whatever you like doing at all, I would say just practice it. If you’re good at playing video games somebody might pay you because you’re good at it.

In Community, how much are you and Troy Barnes alike? How much do you really love Levar Burton?

Troy [and I] are alike because we’re both naive about the world like we expect the best from people at all times. I’m pretty loyal like him; I could be stupid at certain instances like him. I am a big fan of Levar Burton! Like I’m a huge fan of Levar Burton.

For the complete interview, click this link!

To download the August – September 2011 issue of UNO Magazine, just go to www.pressdisplay.com. Just search for UNO Magazine.

UNO’s exclusive interview with Tahiti 80′s frontman Xavier Boyer.

by Denise Mallabo

Special thanks to Toti Dalmacion

Tahiti 80 has been together for 18 years, what do you think is the secret to your longevity?

The music. We love playing together and we’re still having fun writing new songs. We’re so passionate about it

What is it about doing EPs that you like most?

It’s a very interesting format. It’s lighter & shorter than a full-length album. You can push the envelope a bit more. We always put our craziest songs on the EP’s

Where is the “Tahitilab” and what would be the difference/s between recording there as oppose to recording your album in NYC like what you used to do in your first 2 albums?

Tahitilab is our tool, a toyshop for grown ups! We have all our guitars, synths over there. It’s our place. We don’t have to worry about costs. There’s no pressure. Though I’d love to go back to NYC again and spend a month recording songs. It was such a great experience.

What made you decide to work on Tutu to Tango? How was it different from doing the Tahiti 80 albums?

I was in charged of everything. It was a bit like going on a vacation. It was fun. It allowed me to go for something more intimate and personal.

Almost all Tahiti 80 songs have the freshness and lightness to them that they are really such perfect beach and road trip tunes, what are your inspirations for your melodies and for you songs?

I’m a big fan of Sly & The Family Stone. They wrote optimistic, driving (not just for the car!) songs. Still you can dance to our music and still get some story telling, various feelings etc. Plus we do have more melancholic songs as well.

In your album Fosbury, how was it working with hip-hop producers such as Neal Pogue (Outkast) and Serban Ghenea (NERD)? Did it worry you a little that your sound would be different from the rest of your releases?

That was exactly what we were looking for! Those guys were great; they helped us fulfill our vision. It was so great to work in L.A with Neal Pogue.  Snoop Dogg was recording in the adjacent studio!  Fosbury sounds different, still it’s about melodies and songs except this time we had different dynamics, more soul or hip hop oriented.

How has your music in The Past, The Present and The Possible evolved from your first album Puzzle?

With The PPP we wanted to find the right balance between traditional songwriting and electronic sounds. It was also pretty much influenced by some of the DJ sets we did or nightclubs we went to while touring for Activity Center.

How are your gigs in the US different from your gigs in Europe? How are the US fans different from your European fans?

Some scream louder, some are shyer. It’s never the same from one country, even city, to another.

Are you guys excited about your first ever concert here in Manila? What are your expectations from your fans here in the Philippines?

Sooo psyched about playing in Manila! At Last! We’ve been waiting for a while!

What is your message to your Filipino fans?

Thanks for your patience; we’ll do our best to make both this trip and this concert memorable!

Make sure to catch Tahiti 80 on October 21, 2011 at the 6F The Tents at Alphaland Southgate, Pasong Tamo ext. cor EDSA, Makati City. They will be playing in celebration of Terno Recordings’ 10th year anniversary and along side Up Dharma Down and Radioactive Sago Project. For tickets, kindly call 0917534-5404 and 0922825-9516.