Anthem-Phobic

Last night’s headlines include Asian Pop Prince Christian Bautista’s apology for missing two lines of the Philippine National Anthem when he sung it for a boxing match last Sunday. [Related Video]

I suddenly remembered that I almost suffered similar fate on that particular Monday morning about a month ago. It has been a custom in our company that departments alternately host the flag raising ceremony held weekly in front of the Administration Building where a 94-foot tall flagpole stands. Loudspeakers and a microphone are setup and no less than 6 color officers hoist the big flag.

We were the host department that day and I was assigned – for the fourth time – to lead the pledge of allegiance. We arrived there a little late than scheduled and we are very embarrassed because everybody is ready for the ceremonies and they glared on us as we shuffled towards the middle-front of the assembly.

It seemed that our officemate who was tasked to lead the anthem was really decided to not show up that day and leave us frantically thinking for a last-minute tactic on handling the situation. It’s not his first time either to do the job and he’s among the very few people in our office who are given the talent so stage fright is definitely out of the issue.

Anyway, I was standing in front thinking how our superiors would resolve the matter (how would they declare to the crowd that our officemate-in-charge betrayed us) when the dreaded-although-not-expected thing happened: the emcee called my name! HIGH HEAVENS! This isn’t happening… This ISN’T happening! Still trying to live through the embarrassment of being late for the program and here it is, the rock of you-must-not-fail expectation was hurled on me. Talk about downside of being famous… “What if I missed the notes? What if I forgot the lyrics?”, these thoughts hit me. I wanted to be Jessica Alba in Fantastic 4 (never mind that she’s a lady) or at least turn into stone like those three statues of Volunteerism not too far from the flagpole. But I have no choice. I cannot refuse – not especially that the chairman of the board of directors was there staring at me as if I’m a wanted criminal he’d just recognized.

As I faced the audience, I quickly recalled a sportsfest in my first college when the person who led the anthem got confused with the parts having the same melody and repeated the lines and we thought we’ll never finish the song. And when was the last time I led the singing of the anthem by myself? Ah, in second grade. Great!

At the whistle of the color officer, I summoned all my remaining courage and started singing (my hand on my chest of course). The stares of the Chairman (who by the way is a retired navy) and employees from Senior Managers to rank-and-file are better motivation than the beat of a chorale maestro.

Thankfully, my lungs and vocal chords are cooperative. I’m hearing my own voice. And I’m surprised that I’m hitting notes I never reached before even with a falsetto. Bravo!

I didn’t imagine that it would go smoothly but I’m just glad it did. I cannot believe that it’s me who sang that morning. Maybe I did morph into somebody else although not Sue of the F4.