Yes? Yes. Yes!

The Yes of yore, Yes that was, and Yes to be came together in 1991 for this ambitious production known as Union. ABWH (that's Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe) joins with YESWEST ver. 90125 (Tony Kaye, Chris Squire, Trevor Rabin, Alan White). 

Various reviews (mostly negative) were all about, from the net to printed publications, spewing death-match argument whoever was essentially YES, and far better: Trevor vs. Steve, Tony vs. Rick, Bill vs. Alan, Chris against Chris and Anderson against himself. After all that YES vs. YES, the band could have renamed itself as NO.

Yet, this clip taken from the last leg of the tour in 1991 shows such professionalism that the juggernaut outfit proves itself. Though styles sometimes rub against each other, it bristles beautifully - like sparks and gunpowder after some serious shelling. This version of Yours is No Disgrace charges like ELPs Aquatarkuses in steroids. Let the naysayers say nay, I say aye!

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the clip above, and do not earn money with the video. The clip belongs to the rightful owners, and is shared for enjoyment purposes only.

Aaaah, Sunday!

Yes, Sunday.

The average Sunday from where I am.

Engelbert Humperdink and Tom Jones are the canonized saints of the airwaves, from the public transports to stores.

Silver Pozzoli and 80s Italo-Disco help conjure memories of Atari game consoles, bad mullets and the playground demonstrations of the annual school Sportsfests/ Intramurals.

A faint party hint creeps as bass frequencies seep through the window glass, courtesy of generous neighbors who think they bear great responsibility of providing the soundtrack for the remaining half of the weekend. That would be hours of jologs rap or Taylor Swift.

Different denominations convene in one single jeep, identified by their respective icons - whether a Bible, a rosary, a libretto, or a hijab -  all submissively meditating to the music of Cliff Richard or the Beatles.

Minds run wild searching for the best place for family lunch.

The beach is the next best alternative to church. You know, Sabbath means rest, and the beach is relaxing, ergo the Beach = Sabbath. (There goes the connection, the Beach Boys are indeed as dark as Black Sabbath can get). Of course, with beer, broiled pork liempo or fish, crushed ice - lots of it.

The malls, don't forget the malls. If you hate sand on your shorts, you can always head to the safe arms of the comfy malls and get lost with a hundred others who do not also know why they have to be there with their last 100 Php. A cone of ice cream will do, or you may spare jeepney fare and splurge the remaining Pesoses for cheap fancy coffee and enjoy the fake bossa nova wafting in the speakers. Watch the girls. Watch the guys. Smell first the coffee. Cross your legs, and act haciendero.

Amidst all of that and more, this remains my best Sunday.

Its my first Sunday without assignment as a church musician, with the liberty of choosing which service to attend.

Now isn't that neat? No guitars to tote, no uniforms, no soundchecks. Just my Bible and me. I attend a service, I smile, I shake hands, belt a big laugh without having to rush where I left my guitar. It can't get any better than this.

So! To the shower, and with gusto:

"Every day I wake up, And I start to break up, lonely is the man without loooooooove". Brrr.