The Cavern

Arrived in Hong Kong safe and sound exactly five hours ago. Took the airport express then the shuttle to the hotel, dumped my bags and took off again immediately. Planned to have a couple of drinks tonight.

I took the train to Central, and wandered a bit before finding SoHo. Not too impressed with the street, it was too quiet.

I have a thing, somehow, for live bands recently, so I made that a goal for myself.

I stumbled upon the one and only pub with a live band tonight - the Cavern at Lan Kwai Fong, and I ended up staying there an hour or so before rushing to catch the last train back to the hotel.

The band was made up of Filipinas, and boy, they were good. I walked in when the female lead singer was belting out some Michelle Branch song, and I thought she was pretty good (though a tad too loud on the mike). But when the male lead singer took over the mike, he was so good I actually thought he must be gay (I don't know how that link came about).

The high of the night came when the band did a rendition of one of my recently-favorite song: Bohemian Rhapsody. Yes, the one originally sung by Queen, no less. How a band managed to do that song live would already baffle me. To do it live and fantastic, totally bowled me over. See, the male lead that I suspected to be gay even reminded me of Freddy Mercury himself. He was that good. Now the link is purely incidental.

I really don't know what it is about live bands that mesmerizes me. I suppose it's the fact that I admire them. For possessing the talent to sing (and make a living of it). And for having the God-sent opportunity to do what they enjoy doing and being appreciated for it. Neither of them, I have. Which makes me respectful, and to a certain extent, envious.

I also am infatuated with male singers. Well, maybe not with any one in particular, but everytime I sit listening to a man singing, I fantasize the day I have a man serenading to me. And if the singer happens to be singing a love song, I always imagine being the one he's singing to at that moment. Then, I start to think, does he really know the meaning of the love he's singing about? Maybe he's just a cad, just like others. Maybe he's just singing. Pretending to sing about love and pretending to know about love. Then, perhaps, he's just a fraud.

My man doesn't sing like a band leader. And I don't expect him to ever do. But he sings with me. In the car, when we're listening to our driving songs, he sings out loud together with me. And the moments are especially sweet, because we happen to like the same songs, and so we sing together.

At the Cavern, there is a dance floor right smack in the middle, in front of the band. And the only ones dancing tonight were two old Caucasian couples. Yes, when I say old, I mean old. With white hair and all. I imagine they are four good long-time friends who have decided to take a holiday together in Hong Kong, and tonight, they were just out having drinks and fun, just like they did in their youthful days. And they danced, probably just like they did in their youthful days. Don't get me wrong, it's not an old folks club. All around them were tables of young folks, who were all just stuck to their chairs tonight, simply bobbing their heads to the music. But the old folks were the only ones who found the energy to get up and groove to the music, oblivious to laughters (and snickering maybe?).

I looked at them, and smiled everytime they decided to get up and dance to a good song, usually something from the 70's. Then, strangely, I felt sourness in my heart.

I hope I will be like them, when I have white hair myself. Dancing with my sweetheart, in the middle of the dance floor, just the two of us, to a live band playing our favorite songs.