REVOLUTION
here was the Japanese
occupation, and next, the
British invasion.
But while blood was
senselessly spilled in the years
that the horrific Japanese occupation was
sowing indescribable terror on us, ending only
in 1945 when Emperor Hirohito’s Imperial
Army surrendered in the face of imminent
defeat at the combined forces of Filipino and
American contingents, it was all peace during
the British invasion, which ended on July 6 ,
1966 , in Manila.
And while the Japanese occupation was
all about guns, cannons, bayonets and Tora!
Tora! Tora! planes on kamikaze missions, the
British invasion was all about music, long hair
and, well, some chasing on foot at the Manila
International Airport. Thousands of Filipinos
lost their lives in defense of freedom and
democracy against the conquering Japanese.
Not a single life was snuffed out in an absolute
homage by the Filipinos to the British.
The Japanese occupation saw the coming
of the Willys jeep, that vehicle brought here in
huge numbers by the Americans for use in their
anti-Japanese operations. After World War II,
with America helping us decisively demolish
Japan, those jeeps left behind by the Yanks
were, by dint of Filipino ingenuity, converted
into public conveyances, mainly in place of the
slow-moving calesa.
It is now called the jeepney, aka the king of
the road. King because it moves imperiously
around, unmindful of basic traffic laws and
regulations to the chagrin, if not constant
frustration, of law-abiding citizens hankering
over the need for authorities to use strong-arm
tactics to force jeepney drivers to observe road
courtesies.
If only the Yanks had known the Willys jeeps
would retrogress, degenerate, into this, they
might have thought twice before leaving the
vehicles behind here.
Me? I’ve learned to live with it through an
impregnable patience inspired by Mahatma
Gandhi’s pacifist philosophy. Also, I have
buttressed my anger management with an
ice-cool resolve to offer a blind eye each time a
hint of mind-messing instance could even start
haranguing me. So, when a jeepney in front of
me decides to stop to either load or unload a
passenger, fine. Same goes for a cab or a bus.
Immediately, I step on the brake, gently,
then steer either left or right and proceed
quietly like a river that runs deep, as though
I’ve seen nothing happening. In short, you will
never see me raise hell, nor hear me cuss or
curse like Michael Douglas in that classic film
about breaking down, about burnout. I have
stuck to my ABCs of driving all this time: A for
avoiding a vehicle suddenly stopping in front of
me, B for braking and not blowing my horn to
shoo away a vehicle blocking my path, and C for
controlling my temper. Always, a problem is a
reason to make me a better person.
But enough of that. Back to the British
invasion now.
Yes, you guessed it right: The British
invasion here refers to the coming of The
Beatles to the Philippines in July 1966.
Although they performed in Manila for only
one night, it was a watershed in the country’s
musical history.
But the first British invasion referring to
The Beatles was when they flew to the US in
February 1964. A month before their arrival
in New York, their song ‘I Want To Hold Your
Hand’ sold 1. 5 million copies in the US in
under three weeks. Preceding their first US
concert was the distribution of five million
posters across America, triggering the defining
moment of Beatles history in Yankee country,
and spawning the term ‘British invasion’ that
became viral worldwide.
For the record, I am a certified Beatlemaniac
like Lexus Manila president Danny ‘Sir John’
Isla, Toyota Motor Corporation hotshot Vince
Socco, and Top Gear chief Vernon B. Sarne.
Of the four Beatles, Ringo Starr owned a
Mini, and John Lennon owned a Beetle. Now
this: I know that, maybe, you must have known
already—especially the TG faithful—that my
first car was a Mini. Though already rickety
because it was a battered secondhand unit, it
heroically brought me to Baguio and faraway
Calauag, Quezon, several times. Gosh, I just
loved my Mini.
When I bought my Beetle, colored Shantung
yellow, to become my first brand-new car years
later, my wife’s friend begged me to sell her my
Mini. When my wife learned about it, she sold it
for P 4 , 000. Tell me, when did you ever say no to
your wife?
Was I fated to own a Mini and a Beetle just
because I am a Beatlemaniac? Maybe. Our stars
love to play tricks on us, you know.
The Beatles performed on July 4 , 1966 , at the
Rizal Memorial Football Stadium, with Pilita
Corrales and Reycard Duet as front acts, among
others. Then, when The Beatles snubbed an
‘inserted’ dinner date with the Marcos family
the following day, they were shabbily treated
and left to fend for themselves at the airport,
where some Marcos fanatics—as the myth
goes—chased the quartet in a bid to spray lice
on the fabled mop-topped quartet.
In my years of investigative reporting, none
of that had happened.
Anyway, in their British invasion of Manila,
The Beatles sang ‘Rain,’ ‘If I Needed Someone’
and ‘I Feel Fine.’ I was there. I heard nothing but
noise. But still, it felt fine. Or, I felt fine.
AL MENDOZA
Brit invasion
years ago, we were conquered. it
only took a one-night concert by
the charming boys from liverpool
t
Car CULtUrE
‘was i fatEd to own
a mini and a BEEtLE
jUst BECaUsE i am
a BEatLEmaniaC?’
32 top gear philippines WWW.topgear.com.ph