A night for scribes and artists

THE Beverly Hills Country Club was the perfect venue.

It’s where tradition, elegance and memories met in a night of music, accolade, drama, dancing and the much-vaunted “celebrity roast” of prominent members of the community, who came for a charity roast to support the Fil-American Press Club of California.

Rapid repartees, quick comeback, stinging barbs were systematic over fawning.

Comedy is a red rubber ball — if you throw it against a soft wall, it will not comeback; but thrown against the hard wall of ultimate reality, it will bounce back and be very lively.

It is a way of honoring someone in that special way, invented at the Friars Club in New York from the time of Enrico Caruso.

The great tenor, was “honored” by a dozen of his peers, who stood up and tore him apart with good-natured insults and ridicule, and the form caught on.

There’s the riotous Dean Martin Roast TV show, that almost always goes out of hand.

But for media men, nothings beats the “Correspondents Dinner,” in honor of the President.

The Roast that night was a hodge-podge of sorts: without any rules, theme or boundaries that are supposed to show how much the roastee is loved — or disliked, in the name of humor.

Between the roastee and the roaster, it was the first unwritten rule that was established: what the Friars wrought can serve you, and any fundraising cause you may champion.

We all know that a roast is a surefire, cost-efficient way to honor someone outside mugging — it is the surest way to raise funds.

One can almost declare that these celebrities are simply waiting to be insulted with a vengeance. Human nature is weird, but they swell the coffers.

Whether the honoree deserves accolade or a diatribe, the news of who will be roasted generated the sale of tickets, as did the naming of the roasters.

As the seven roastees took turns into the “hot seat,” the fire started.

It was hard to tell who was sweating more bullets. When the roastee got up to get even with the wonderful insults, they became the big winners with their comedy.

Roasting homicidal  Ka Larry without accolade was a suicide mission, but we didn’t know any better.

Beauty queen, Vina Nacionales simply sat. Her beauty was admired, as she beautified and classed out the event.

Atty. Roman Mosqueda smiled all the way until the rebuttal, then pandemonium reigned.

Van Dichoso thought that Princess Eleanore’s presence would tone down his grilling, so did Maria Amor and Leo Maranan.

Boy Lizaso was the comic relief.

The simple induction ceremonies administered by Atty.Mosqueda was so solemn.

Some of the members couldn’t attend: they were covering events for their respective papers.

Noel Omega and Jesse Jam Miranda outdid themselves roasting, but Lady Bernie K, fortified by Stolichnaya, was the gutsiest.

The guests who warmed the hearts were prominent members of the Fil-Am community, known to be great supporters of the Press club: FAPCCA President Thelma Calabio, BH Matron Vina Nacionales, entertainment artists, colleagues and the foreign media (who were among the entourage of Princess Eleanne of the Republic of Morkova), guests of Van Dichoso and Dra. Malou Dichoso (the Golden Couple of Mayflower), world-renowned pianist, Maestro Dexter Grey — the last of the romantics and greatest living interpreter of Chopin.

He did an “impromptu” performance “out of respect” for his wife, Dr. Erlinda and for the Fil-American Press Club of California.

The evening simply proved that no reporter nor photographer is greater than all of us put together.

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