The Dialog-Thrower

One day, I joined my father watching the movie
‘Assassination of Julius Caesar,’ at the Baliwag Cine Gloria.

So impressed of the speech delivered by Brutus, played by Jason Robards after he slew Julius Caesar. And of Mark Antony performed by Charlton Heston defending the deeds of Brutus. That awakened my father’s interest in public speaking.

I caught him one time mimicking Brutus alternating with that of Mark Antony.  He stood in front of our mirror. He twitched his face to express pain. But chew it with pride. He swished his hand. Bobbed his head. Then barked. 

“Be patient till the last. Romans. Countrymen and Lovers,”.

Itay acted cool to cover his embarrassment.  

“You remember Shakes a spear?”

“Shakespeare, Itay,”.

“Yeah that one. Oh! Love his movie.”

My father joined the Senaculo, an organization that performed ‘Passion of Christ’ during Lent. As a dialog-thrower, the equivalent now of tele-prompter on TV, he stood behind the curtain reading his self-made script and feed that to the performer’s mouth.

A rice field owner, client of my dad, while collecting his irrigation fees, plead to him to launch his campaign as Vice-Mayor in Plaridel, Bulacan. Also, be his speech maker and dialog-thrower. 

My old man didn’t realize someone saw his talent.

Campaigning kicked off. He asked me to go with him. Curtain put in place.

He readied his client as if giving instructions to Senaculo actors.

Now, a chance to apply what he learned from Brutus. 

His client introduced, went to the podium. My dad readied his script.

“Friends. Countrymen. And Lovers”, he said in a restrained low  voice.

“Can’t hear you”. The ambitious politician hissed, covering his mouth.

“Friends. Countrymen. And Lovers,”, my father repeats. 

“Friends. Countrymen. And Muggers,”. 

“Lovers. Not Muggers! You idiot. My father scolded himself, throwing his script. But picked it up. 

“I came here before you today, to announce my candidacy as your Vice-Mayor,”. My dad dictated. 

“I came here before you today to denounce my complicity as Vice-Mayor,”.  My father bopped his forehead. 

“Since my infant days, I’ve seen our town in a sorry state.”

“Since my infantry, I’ve seen our town in a sorry trait.”

“Idiot.”. My father scolded himself. 

“No infrastructure going on for a decade,”. 

“No furniture going on for parade,”.

“Our farmers buried in debts,”.

“Our summer levied deaths. 

“Town officials do not reciprocate services. They don’t give radios to warn us of an incoming typhoon,”.

The idiot client stepped back toward the curtain and whispered. 

“Slow down, man. That’s too much!”.

Itay repeats the line. 

The client got it. “Town officials do not precipitate, providing radiator to warn of the incoming typhoid,”. 

“Our teachers do not have a decent pay,”.

“Our poacher do not have a peasant tray,”.

“We need changes,”. 

“We need Oranges,”.

“First thing, I’ll do with our farmers. I’ll encourage bank officials to offer them loans without collaterals,”.

“First things I’ll do with our farmers, I’ll discourage bank officials to offer phones without cholesterol. 

“For our substitute teacher, I’ll see to it they become permanent,”.

“For our prostitute teacher, I’ll see to it they become apartment,”. 

Itay passed out! Good thing I am there.