Flowers for One Cool Cat: Manong Al Robles
©2009 by Annabelle A. Udo
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I remember first seeing him in the late '80s when I moved to San Francisco--and I would see him everywhere--on the bus, in the Mint Mall, in Chinatown, North Beach, Yerba Buena Gardens. . . he was as omnipresent and enigmatic as Melchizedek. So for me, observing him was as if I were a fish in an aquarium--he would glance over at me but I can only stare back with no words. He always seemed to just acknowledge me with a nod and that silent message was enough to make me feel like, yea, we're good.
As fate would have it, I found myself as part of an honorable line-up of poets alongside Al Robles among them at Bindlestiff Theatre in 1999. He was a tough act to follow as somehow I came after him (I figured we were just performing in alphabetical order by first name)--but after the show he came up and gave me a rough pat on the shoulder and it was enough to make me feel like, yea, we're good.
The last time I had such a great opportunity was at the San Francisco Public Main Library for a "Field of Mirrors" reading where Manong Al made, in signature fashion, a cameo appearance--as if it all came full circle from the first time I had seen him.
Manong Al was a cool cat and what made him that way was because he didn't try to be cool--he just was. Nobody can talk about caribou with that hip, rhythmic, finger-snappin' cadence like he did.
So, I'm sad to have opened my e-mail this morning and see that my inbox was full to the brim with postings by fellow pinoy and pinay artists, musicians, poets, and writers about Manong Al's passing.
He has left deep footprints on this dark earth. . .blessings on your sacred journey, Manong Al. . .
Chevron Gas Prices o' the Day (19th Avenue)
$2.39
$2.47
$2.55
I remember first seeing him in the late '80s when I moved to San Francisco--and I would see him everywhere--on the bus, in the Mint Mall, in Chinatown, North Beach, Yerba Buena Gardens. . . he was as omnipresent and enigmatic as Melchizedek. So for me, observing him was as if I were a fish in an aquarium--he would glance over at me but I can only stare back with no words. He always seemed to just acknowledge me with a nod and that silent message was enough to make me feel like, yea, we're good.
As fate would have it, I found myself as part of an honorable line-up of poets alongside Al Robles among them at Bindlestiff Theatre in 1999. He was a tough act to follow as somehow I came after him (I figured we were just performing in alphabetical order by first name)--but after the show he came up and gave me a rough pat on the shoulder and it was enough to make me feel like, yea, we're good.
The last time I had such a great opportunity was at the San Francisco Public Main Library for a "Field of Mirrors" reading where Manong Al made, in signature fashion, a cameo appearance--as if it all came full circle from the first time I had seen him.
Manong Al was a cool cat and what made him that way was because he didn't try to be cool--he just was. Nobody can talk about caribou with that hip, rhythmic, finger-snappin' cadence like he did.
So, I'm sad to have opened my e-mail this morning and see that my inbox was full to the brim with postings by fellow pinoy and pinay artists, musicians, poets, and writers about Manong Al's passing.
He has left deep footprints on this dark earth. . .blessings on your sacred journey, Manong Al. . .
posted by Filipina Veritas at 5:53 PM
