Saturday, October 04, 2008 Shrimp secrets By Ober Khok Sira-sira store
I SAW Rustom Padilla at the Urian Awards. On TV, that is. Krystal, my niece, gushed at how he looked so radiant in his diaphanous, pink top and black pants.
All I saw was a reed-thin woman flashing a triumphant smile.
Rustom has since unabashedly displayed his feminine side, degree by degree, after he admitted on national television that he is gay. I saw that moment in 2006.
It was while being a contestant in Pinoy Big Brother reality show that he came out of his cocoon to unfurl the butterfly wings he had kept secret for so long. But I’m not much into showbiz really and so I rely upon my nieces to fill me in.
Joy, my other niece, told me that show host Ellen Degeneres has been open about her gayness, and recently married her girlfriend. American Idol graduate Clay Aiken has also told the public that he is gay.
Lest you think that I have stumbled into the wrong section this morning, let me assure you that this is just a long introduction to what I am getting at.
The word “gay” no longer simply means bright in color, merry and carefree. It has a new meaning (as if you didn’t know) referring to somebody, especially a man, who is attracted to the same sex.
It has followed the fate of “nice.” It used to mean “ignorant,” but because perhaps it was used with sarcasm — much like we do when we say of someone we don’t like as “our best friend” — after many years of misuse, it has acquired a better meaning.
In a way, both words have “come out” of their old meanings to become the butterflies we know them today.
By the same twisted logic of mine, commercials are slowly “coming out” also.
It’s an indication that homosexuality is openly and casually discussed in the Philippines so that even commercials feel confident the humorous treatment of the subject will be hugged by the public.
There’s this commercial of KFC’s, the shrimp meal, and its take on manliness and acceptance.
The premise is that in every group, one member keeps a skeleton in his closet and that when it is revealed the others have to be prepared to accept the truth.
Through double-intender, the message is delivered: the obvious is the shrimp meal that one member has hidden under the table; and the deeper secret is that of one member who has hidden his being gay under the guise of manly corporate dressing.
We all have some otherness, our secret shrimps, waiting to be revealed by our self-betrayal: a bossy posture hiding some insecurity, a loneliness hidden by a merry face, an old hurt jealously hidden by satire.
We hope to receive a group hug when our mask slips off during an unguarded moment.
Just like in the commercial.
Shrimp, by the way, can also mean somebody or something very small or considered insignificant.
But in social transactions, nothing can be too insignificant and if we accept the truth, it can even create something nice and tasty in our life.
