The headlines screamed it all:  “Catholic priest joins Episcopalian Church”. They were talking, of course, about Fr. Cutie (pronounced Cute-ee) who was photographed kissing his girlfriend while sunbathing on a beach in Miami, Florida.

The Latin newspaper that covered the spread and story, a rag that is known chiefly for its sensationalized reportage, published the damning photographs spreading the word quickly. Like wildfire, or perhaps even like toxic fumes from some escaping bad gas tank, the brewing scandal spread throughout Southern Florida and took the Archdiocese of Miami by surprise.

Fr. Cutie, after all, besides being pastor of a thriving parish, was a well-known priest and television personality in the counseling and family services circles. There resulted a firestorm of protests from pro-Fr. Cutie to anti-Fr. Cutie. Both sides carried their placards and signs ranging from “Remember your vow of celibacy,” to “Let Fr. Cutie get married,” and other more vulgar signage with words too terrible to print here.

I thought, prayed and reflected on the vague tid bits of the case. Fr. Cutie was downright popular with his parishioners. He had the good looks of a Latino macho male. He embodied the modern day Rudolph Valentino of sorts. He could sing, he could dance, he could salsa with the best of them. Perhaps he had one of his feet on things of this world and the other foot in the spirit world. It was a hard balancing act. To compare him to a peach hanging from the highest limb of the tree would be almost appropriate to describe his status in social circles.

Which brings me to the title of this piece, “Manang Biday”.

Recall the lyrics to the song:  “Manang Biday, ilucat mo man, Ta ventana icalumbabam. Ta kitaem to kinayawam, ay matayacon no di nac caasian.” Now this verse may not apply right off the bat but persevere and let me show you the next set of lyrics.

“Siasino ca nga agbasac-basac. Toy hardin co nga minuyongac. Ammom ngarud nga balasangac, sabong ni Lirio di pay nagukrad.”

“Denggem ading ta bilinen ca. No mapanca sadi Laguna. Gumatang canto’t bunga’t manga, lanzones pay ken adu nga kita.”

And here finally is the key to the whole puzzle: “No nangato, dimo sucdalen, no nababa dimo gaw-aten, no mat’nag dimo piduten, ngem labas-labasam to laeng.”

As a side note here, in some quarters, the word “aglabas-labas” is used in place of “agbasac-basac”. Also the line that goes, “toy hardin co nga minuyongac” is changed to, “toy hardin co umok ni ayat”. In the line that says, “No nangato, dimo sucdalen,” in some regions they use the word “sibbulen” instead of “sucdalen”. The wording may be different in other regions but the melody is the same.

Now back to Fr. Cutie. Obviously, Fr. Cutie’s girlfriend did not heed the warning. “No nangato, dimo sucdalen…” (translation: If the fruit hangs too high up there on the limb, do not use a pole harvester to pick it). Fr. Cutie was way up there, so to speak – and so too are many clerics and men of the cloth (priests and bishops).

But why is it that the more “unattainable” these men become – because of their vow of celibacy taken during ordination, the more “attractive” they become to some women?

So like fruit hanging from the highest limb of the tree, these clerics (not necessarily fruits – pardon the pun) become so much “sweeter”? There is a song written by Cole Porter and sang by Frank Sinatra that speaks of, “the higher the peach, the sweeter the fruit,” which would seem to corroborate this phenomenon.

And the same goes for the Sisters, Nuns, Discalced. Once they don their habit, they become more irresistible to some men. The remaining lyrics to Manang Biday aptly apply: “Ammom ngarud nga balasangac, sabong ni Lirio di pay nagukrad.” (Just the thought of a Lirio blossom that is still a bud… and not yet opened… has virginal overtones.)

No wonder. . .