Friendsterism

Me and my sales team will be in Singapore tomorrow for a year end treat, courtesy of our company President, for the positive sales output despite the tail end crisis. The trip timing isn’t good though because this is the week we are supposed to be with our families. Besides, my girlfriend’s newly opened siomai house business is on the upswing, with sales daily inching up since it first launched. Based on my computation, her one month salary from her previous employment as Art Director is doubly surpassed by her monthly net on this single franchise. We just hope we get the other space within the same mall so we can double the income. My opinion is, with the deepening economic slump until next year, people, especially from bracket CD and E, will tend to get thrifty with their meals, and they will go with cheaper yet quality foods. A P25 4piece siomai and P8 ice cold gulaman are decent enough merienda to get to the next meal. With the right mix of a tasty siomai, thirst quenching gulaman, competitive pricing, good location and the ongoing financial stress, we see brighter days ahead.

I just wish my girlfriend can come with me during this one week respite at the City State.

Watched Larry Henares’ commentary of Beijing Olympics last night. It was not so much the spectacle of the event but the guy who used to capture millions of readers of his “Make My Day” column in the Phil. Daily Inquirer when PDI was just starting. I liked better Conrado de Quiros with his sharp thoughts and analysis, but Larry got me with his homour and play of words. Last night was like a flash back of the early 90’s. Larry is still good, he knows when to hook you up, his prose enchanting, weaving words so beautifully that i gave him thumbs up for the form, which in effect elevated its substance.

Why the hell am I watching an Olympics review in the first place?

This day, three years ago, our entire family is in one of the ward rooms of St.
Paul’s Hospital in Iloilo. We gather around a man just amputated with his
second leg (his first amputation happened a month ago), exhausted but not
giving up, forbearing our casual banters and sibling bickering over food
prepared for that day for his honor. But that was also our last Father’s Day
with our beloved tatay. Too weak to lift a spoon, I fed him with one of his
favorite foods, spaghetti in tomato sauce. After a very long time, he was also
able to sip his favorite softdrink, Sprite, though medically prohibited (we are
in a hospital anyway). Weeks after that happy family moment, in the arms of our
brother, our tatay breathed his last. In his honor, I recall 10 things I learned
from him:

1. I learned from him how to properly hold an axe, splitting a bamboo node
or a log with a few whack—just don’t hold it near the blade.

2. He taught me how to handle a fighting cock in a way that it won’t wiggle or
squirm, or scratch my arm with its claws—hold it with one palm on its “petcho”.

3. He taught me how to drink safely from a running water, scooping it from the
source and drink in just from the surface.

4. To drive a nail faster without breaking a bamboo slit, he taught me to
chisel-bore the spot first.

5. To protect my head from a sudden rain, he taught me to cover my head with a
handkerchief, tie opposite corners down my chin and ran as fast as I could.

6. To be able to sleep faster,  he told me to just shut my thoughts, leave
my mind blank and think of nothing else.

7. He influenced me to have an Omega pain killer by my side every time I go to
sleep.

8. Always be ready for brown-outs—have a match and a “gasera” (1970’s-1980’s)
and always recharge the halogen flashlights (1990’s onwards).

9. When in doubt, he taught me to go with my hunches, or gut feel.

10. This I will always remember: Before I do something, anything, I must ask
myself, “will Jesus like it?”.

These, he taught me in my teens. I left our home for college in Manila, and I
got to see him rarely since then. To dear Tatay, wherever you are, Happy
Father’s Day! We love you!

"Naglunch lang si Senador sa Manila Pen", replied one member from
my Samasa Yahoogroups when somebody from abroad asked for a news update
from back home.

It
was anecdotal of the short lived attempt of Senator Antonio Trillanes
and Brig. Gen. Danilo Lim to mount revolt against what they call a
bogus President who won in an election marred by massive cheating. When
he called for people’s support to come to Makati after he walked out of
the Makati City regional trial court, personalities identified with the
opposition arrived in Manila Peninsula Hotel, like former Vice Pres. Teofisto Guingona, Novaliches Bishop Antonio Tobias, Infanta, Quezon Bishop Emeritus Julio Labayen, former University of the Philippines president Francisco Nemenzo, "running" priest Robert Reyes, columnist Herman Tiu Laurel
and Atty. Argee Guevarra among others. Of course media people have been
with them from the start of their court hearing and marching all the
way to Manila Peninsula for a blow by blow coverage that ended having
themselves handcuffed and dragged to Camp Bagong Diwa in Taguig City
along with the Magdalo soldiers.

Listening from one radio
station to another as I drove back to Makati at the height of the
incident, I heared the Phil. National Police Chief appeal to different
media management to recall their personnel from the scene as they are
about to engage with the holed up soldiers whose numbers almost equal
with the media men covering them. Then I thought of the media person’s
moral obligation to be truth tellers, their constitutionally guaranteed
vocation to freely inform the public of matters that concern them, just
as the police has also the obligation to protect them while doing their
duties. In a typical war, journalists, like members of the Red Cross,
are not a potential enemy but allies of both warring parties in their
pursuit for truth and human well-being.

As a student of
journalism, I personally deplore the act of removing cameras from the
TV crews and all forms of communication gadgets that were instruments
of a continuous truth-telling work. Even more, the move to handcuff
journalists suspecting them as Magdalo soldiers in disguise, those
distinguishable faces you watch daily on TV, is the height of police
ignorance, if not blind obedience at the expense of violating the basic
rights of journalists to perform their duties protected by the Bill of Rights specifically Section 4 and Sec. 7.

I
sympathize with the cause of Sen. Trillanes for a corruption free,
morally upright governance– who else doesn’t want that? Church
leaders even call for it, senators and congressmen, too. But counter
such media grandstanding in a high-end hotel with Simba armoured
personnel carrier (APC), handcuff teargassed journalists and declare
curfew at 12 midnight until 5:00am? If this is not what we locally call
"kapraningan" or "sobra naman" then this might just be the beginning of
the end of a story that should never be told.

Nakakahiya na kasi!

I said I believe in miracles. A miracle is any
amazing or wonderful occurrence. Others define it as a “marvelous event
manifesting a supernatural act of God.” Yes, it was amazing and it was
also a marvelous act of God. I submitted my second draft on the last
day of submission of grades (officially was April 9). Minutes after
poring over my second draft, my thesis adviser gave me a grade I least
expect. It was even higher than the one I wished for, and without
further corrections! I was kind of worried because on Holy Thursday and
Good Friday she was texting me to adjust, revise and add items on some
chapters. I researched more, added tables and interpretations over here
and there and refined my recommendations. Easter Sunday, I was done.
The next day I went to school to submit my copy. All that I wished was
I can have a grade on time, after the 3^rd semester, my maximum residency. What I got is a miracle, at least on my own terms!

Looking
back, though lacking in in-depth sources and related references, I was
encouraged by Dr. Georgina Encanto’s remarks when she said she can’t
accept what I submitted as a thesis. She told me my topic was good but
too short and shallow, and I ought to pursue it if only to contribute
to the scarce references on the subject matter. She wants my work to be
part of that rare resources of students and researchers seeking to
expand knowledge on related research fields. Well, the way I see it, my
thesis turned out to be more of a beacon, than a study tool, to journalists, editors
and publishers especially, of the future of the print media. Why is
newspaper readership declining? What can editors and publishers do to
arrest the readership slide? How can the print medium cope up with the
power of TV, radio and the Internet, especially the online publications
and its interactive & dynamic nature? What lessons must the
broadsheets learn from the compact tabloids? On theoretical
perspective, how is the active news reader affected by the new media
and how are editors and publishers dealing with it?

I
just wish by the time I retire, there are still newspapers I can write
with. I envy the likes of opinion makers Messrs. Teodoro Benigno and
Luis Beltran—they died still holding on their pens, like the
bridesmaids holding on their lighted lamps when Christ arrived.

"Murder", not the killings but our cat, will be on TV all over, and probably world-wide. This proud cat, though "pusang kalye" by breed, stars (actually co-stars) on a popular dog food commercial which will have a roadshow on Easter Sunday. Haven’t personally seen in advance the TV ad (to avoid competitive pre-emption but, my, isn’t this one? Well, if they are that "popular dog food" then they don’t need advertising– makes sense? :D) Anyways, we just can’t wait to see him on the boob tube. "Murder" is a brother of "Badjing" (see post "It’s Raining Cats") who’s still missing since February 17, 2006, and "Anorexia" who also got lost February 17, 2007…  "Murder" receives sacks of cat food for his talent fee (he refused the money and instinctively went for the food) and none for his boss. When you see a sleepy, grouchy cat on a new dog food commercial, know that his name is "’Murder’, ang pusang kalye na sumikat sa kasungitan ng mukha!"

Another cat is lost in the "Muning" genealogy, the cat that delivered kittens to the Flores family and died days after. Her kittens named "Badjing", "Murder", and "Anorexia" were cared for, or put it correctly, placed on a pedestal by my girlfriend Paulette that they grew up fat and in silky fur. "Badjing" (named after her kitten-days bungee jumping mode) was most loved, "Murder" (after his kitten-days obsession to eat yellow-green Birdie) was second and "Anorexia" (after her anorexic look, sickly body, swollen eyes) was the least, although she was the most "malambing" and "mabait".

On February 17, last year, "Badjing" was lost, or we surmised snatched up while playing outside the gate and sold for P20 (that was the buying rate in Caloocan according to a "basurero" we talked to) to be fed to a Rottweiler or a wild snake.   What an ending for a cute, clean cat that eats nothing but Friskies and "galunggong". So "Badjing" is indeed gone and can never come back. Since then, "Murder" sleeps with my girlfriend– you just don’t know how it feels to have a cat for a rival, hehe! By the way, "Murder", the local Garfield (he’s so sluggish and fat) or the little Lion King (so fiery and possessive at times) fathered  many more sons and daughters from his incestuous relationship with "Badjing" and "Anorexia". Among them left is  "Namfrel" (the vegetarian cat) and  "Pretty" (cat so quiet, so petty)– the others we gave away to friends and neighbors.

Last February 14, "Anorexia" was found lost, or snatched up in an unholy hour by what we suspect as a February serial cat stealer. Until today, we still look for "Anorexia", wondering how she has been treated, for a cat like her has never been outside and exposed to strangers. Her loss refreshes the pain of having lost "Badjing", even makes more painful as my girlfriend contemplates on the day that "Murder" is out of her life, and for reasons that they were sold and helplessly fed to carnivores. It’s unfortunate that these cats live in a neighborhood, or perhaps city, where most people care only about what they could sell and eat for a day.

They say, there are many ways to skin a cat. But I say, if I see whoever snatched our cats, I will skin him in so many ways!

Three hours later and it’s 2007! Looking forward to January’s Dinagyang and Sinulog festivals, i placed some transition pics on my work-site to remind me and visitors that 2007 is another year of fun and face-lift– at least on the first page of this sorry site. Still hoping that I can sneak out of work and celebrate the fun. Sneaking out 2 days is not long enough… =p

One Day. Because she no longer has the patronage of masses and her
re-election is next to impossible. One day holiday. Because she wanted to woo
the support of the business sector, sustaining the momentum of her
self-acclaimed economic recovery via EVAT at the expense of the consumers while
companies of her chinese patrons enjoy tax holidays, whatever they call it! One
day, when before, she would declare two days in between weekend and a holiday,
days to promote local tourism. Nov. 1 is long enough for Gloria to visit her
father’s tomb and tell his sorry soul that she’s vindicated from all her
shortcomings…

One Day. One day of rest and prayerful
remembering. Because I can’t go home to my father’s grave, to touch his lonely
tomb, to light a little candle, place a priceless rose and pray for his soul.
Thanks to Gloria who deprived millions of Catholics of this chance to pray
together as a family for the souls of their departed loved ones. (Remembering the souls, may
I stress, is inadequate.)

One Day. I remember this One Day when I
was below 5 years old, walking home one stormy night he covered my head and
tucked my upper body inside his fatherly-smelling jacket. We walked as fast as
we could while the bright flashes of lighting lit the road and all that I see
were his swaggering feet, steady and strong.

One Day.That one day
I also remembered when I was holding, wrapped in black plastic bag, his chopped-off leg fresh from amputation due to painful gangrene that eventually caused
complications with his other vital organs and ultimately, his death. I held it
with grateful heart, because through them we were cared for, protected and
provided.

One Day. This one day, and each day of my life I will
remember my father whom we loved so dearly. This one day, on November 1, I will
lit a little candle and pray for him, who though physically far, will always be
spiritually near.

Meanwhile, I will have to forbear life. One day at a
time.

I have flu this weekend so I stayed home the whole of Sunday. Got hooked tinkering on my codes and checking if my lay-out works. Have added this picture trail, which to my untrained eye, looks good on my page. Check out further for my enhanced events page.  So this is what happens when I’m sick.

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