The truth and nothing but about Inday Badiday

As an entertainment talk show host, the one big hazard of the trade for me is the fact that people approach me constantly to help them get into show business.

One time, somebody came up to me and asked me to help him realize his dream of becoming a dancer. I helped him, all right, but only to give directions on how to get to the OctoArts office in Panay Avenue, Quezon City where — so I told him — he could probably audition for a slot in the then still popular Octo-maneuvers.

And then, there are those who would come up to me and ask me to manage their careers — to which I would give my usual reply: Considering that I can’t even manage my own life, how do you expect me to manage your career?

It’s not that I don’t want to help. It’s just that I don’t have the capacity to help them. Or maybe I do — I don’t know. Maybe I could get them an audience with Lily Monteverde. She always says hello to me every time we bump into each other in restaurants and she remembers me as the guy from TV.

Or maybe I can bring them to Vic del Rosario. Mr. Del Rosario is a very nice person. One Sunday afternoon a few months ago, I walked into the Megamall branch of Video City, which he owns, and there he was, attending to the customers himself (no wonder the man is so successful) and he gave me a complimentary Video City membership ID.

Since Boss Vic seems to be very approachable — and Mother Lily, too — why can’t I ask them to try out this and that person for the movies? Maybe they’ll accommodate me. Or maybe I’m being too presumptuous.

The bottomline is, I don’t want to ask for favors and I don’t have much respect for people who pull strings to get ahead in life.

During the time I was with ABS-CBN, one source of headache for me were friends who had nephews, nieces and cousins who wanted to be part of the network’s Star Circle. Just because I was with Channel 2, they thought I had the power to transform all their relatives into overnight celebrities. What they didn’t know was that until I left the station, I never knew who was in charge of those Star Circle searches.

I still have the same problem now that I am with GMA 7 because the network has youth-oriented programs and everyone wants to get into Click and Love to Love.

About two months ago, a cousin of mine arrived from the US and I threw her a little dinner at my house and she brought with her a niece who said she wanted to be in show business. All I said to her was good luck.

What did they want me to do? Talk to every producer and talent manager I know? Maybe I can do that, but, sigh, should I? Really, I don’t want to be bothered by these things — that’s the point.

My attitude toward this little hassle in my life, however, changed a bit last week when Inday Badiday passed away. In all those tributes that were given to the original Queen of Movie Talk Shows, I realized how unselfish she had been during her lifetime.

By putting movie reporters on camera in Nothing But the Truth. Would You Believe? and See-True, the public became more acquainted with writers whose bylines we only used to read in the papers.

More than that, she made television hosts out of Cristy Fermin, Nap Gutierrez, Lulubelle Lam Ramos, Anselle Beluso, Aster Amoyo, Jun Nardo, Eugene Asis and even her daughter Dolly Ann Carvajal, who eventually made it on her own even without the help of her mother. (Dolly Ann now hosts Celebrity.Com. on Channel 13 every Thursday evening.)

In my case, Inday and (Gene Palomo, too) put me on TV (this was before Showbiz Lingo) for three months — as a substitute for Mario Hernando (who had to be away on a USIS grant) in the film review portion of the now-defunct Movie Magazine on Channel 7.

On Startalk last Saturday, even Rosanna Roces had her own story to tell on how Inday gave her exposure in Eye-to-Eye back then when she was still the struggling Anna Maceda.

One anecdote I remember about Inday had to do with a teenage boy who would wait at the gate of the Loyola Heights home of the TV host everyday, hoping to get the chance to sing in See-True. The boy would also bring a Ilanera of jalea ube with him as an offering to Inday. Everyday he would be there with his jalea ube.

Eventually, the boy got the chance to sing in See-True — through Inday, of course. Maybe Inday pitied him and marveled at his patience. Or maybe his jalea started coming out of Inday’s ears and she must have thought the only way to stop him from giving her more bottles of ube was to give in to his request.

The boy didn’t make it as a singer. He is probably a jalea magnate by now.

But at least he got his wish to sing on TV — and this was because Inday was willing to help.

Perhaps I should take the cue from Inday, that it wouldn’t really hurt to help those young people seeking stardom. After all, Inday also helped me at one time.

So far, a friend of mine has already gotten in touch with me — asking me to help a lady friend become a singer. I plan to call Ricky Gallardo who handles Bituin Escalante for this. Or perhaps I can call up Manny Valera who also manages singers. Or maybe I can refer them all to Boy Abunda. (Hello, Boy! We’ll now be in frequent touch.)

As you can see, I really don’t know how to go about it — I mean how to transform aspiring singers and actors into professionals. But at least I’m now willing to make an effort.

The important thing is, I now realize it’s never too late to be unselfish.