na na, na na, na na ,na na, na na na

Back in High School, I was a big fan of The Moffatts. Though not big enough that they would warrant my unending devotion. Unlike with Mariah. I think of genuflecting whenever I pass by Music One Greenbelt where her full glory, scantily covered by feathers, is displayed on the door, all for everyone to see and admire. Well actually Striker suggested we do it. And I'm seriously considering doing it if only to bring peace between Palestine and Israel.

Anyway, The Moffatts used to be big here in Asia, especially in the Philippines. Like it or not, they were the more adorable version of Hanson. The latter were like stick figures with bad hair, especially their eldest. And speaking of eldest, it was Scott Moffatt, the one with the blond streak, whom influenced me to want to learn how to play the guitar. I know that he's not the most awesome guitarist the world has known but I was a non-conformist even as a child. My definition of cool and lame is different with everyone else's perception of those words.

One of my close friends back then even gave me a box full of memorabilia - CDs and cassette tapes, posters, postcards, memo pads, several VHS tapes containing their TV appearances and music videos. You name it, I probably have it. It was so, oh I don't know, juvenile? But clearly, I wasn't the only one obsessed. As my token of gratitude, I gave him the Talk On Corners CD of The Corrs, and invited him to the Hard Rock concert of The Moffatts. I pulled some strings and managed to get me some free passes to the said event. And by free passes, I mean we'll be taking the backdoor entry. It was a good one, and well, the boy band brought the house down. Literally. Should Hard Rock caught fire that night, the city would have lost half of its teenage population. It was that one point that Hard Rock lost its glitz. The place was so jam packed, even the doors had to give way (read: unhinged and broken) to those who wanted to get in.

We managed to get out unscathed. And weirdly, without any fond memories of what happened that night. All I know is that I was so proud for seeing firsthand some boy band action. Like anyone else cared.

I won't ever deny that stage of my life. Yes, it is cheesy but it was fun and more importantly, it's all me. I'm just a bit scared of what I'll find out should I keep on rummaging through my old things.

Now go back and re-read the title. I swear this time, it'll make much more sense. If it still doesn't, call me - I'd gladly sing it for you.