Gentlemen, where art thou?

I don't want to post something negative and wake up into a new year with negative vibes. In order to do that, I will close this year's post with something that is not positive. Surprisingly, the story I came up with concerns sports - a game. We can all relate to that as we have, for one time or another, played a game or two. And we all know that in order for a game to be thrilling and fun, the players have to play by the rules. It is when someone cheats or bullies his'her way through that a game is no longer enjoyable.

Look at what happened to a golfer. Now, golf is supposedly a gentleman's game, is it not? It's rules are very strict, complicated even. What happens when men who are not gentle at all try to play the game? They beat up someone, bully their way around, knowing that they have superior strength and number - not to mention that they wield guns.

In fairness to the father, he said that being a government official, he asks for forgiveness for what has happened. But nevertheless, he points to the alleged victim as the one who has started it all. Yeah, right! A father innocently enjoying golf with his son and daughter would have the gall to initiate a fight with burly, gun-toting men who wants to overtake them.

I've read somewhere that cockfighting is another gentleman's game. It is in a cockpit where you'd find the most honest person in the world. Money lost to an opponent would come flying around, landing on the floor and yet, nobody would get it except for the rightful owner. There seems to be an understanding in the area that everyone has the right to hit, at least one, someone who is caught cheating.

Golf used to be a gentleman's game as well. However, with the recent event, plus the negotiations being hatched by government officials on the fairway, I am now beginning to have second thoughts.

Happy New Year to all!

A Christmas full of music

I think my son has come a long way. This christmas has been full of shows we had to watch as his chamber orchestra goes touring in malls for the holiday season. I only got to see the one they did at the Robinson's Place and I was even late as I had to come all the way from Tanay. My friends and I were looking at a 1 hectare property which looked promising for an investment. However, it was too far and very mountainous that we had to abandon the plans of purchasing it.






Anyway, I was told by the wife that the best show they had was the one performed at the MOA. It was so good that people even asked my son to have a picture taken with them right after the show. He is currently the concert master and does the solos on violin.








As a sample of how the orchestra sounds, here is one of their performances at the Philamlife Auditorium last year. He was not yet the concert master then so you'll find him sitting next to the principal violinist. Enjoy!






On Christmas day, the whole family had to rush to the Podium as his band, 11 O 4, had to perform their first gig. The all male band is composed four singers and accompanied by a piano, a guitar and my son on violin. It was a real treat as these kids belted out songs from a repertoire of Christmas tunes and some pop songs. I couldn't believe my son could be very good as he performed the solo of Kenny Loggins' Whenever I call you friend. I've never seen him practice at home. The arrangements were very well executed and they harmonize pretty well considering that they are just a newly formed band. If these kids play their cards right, I think they'll go places.



As my way of greeting each and everyone a very Merry Christmas, here's the ensemble once more in their rendition of a christmas medley.

God plays little tricks on us sometimes

In one of the pre-celebrations of our 30th foundation anniversary, I saw someone who I think looked familiar although I wasn't really very sure. I may not be very good with names but I have a good memory for faces. However, the more I looked at him, the more I failed to remember who he was. Since I was kind of busy then, I dismissed the thought and went on with what I was doing.

Then, last week, I just confirmed that I knew him. He was a former student of mine. As a matter of fact, our valedictorian in 1989, our school paper's editor at the time and recipient of our Man of Letters. The reason I couldn't recognize him then was because he is suffering from an affliction. He developed a dystonia as a result of a brain stroke "...from a ruptured AVM ( Arterio-Venous Malformation, an abnormal collection of fragile blood vessels like arteries and veins, in my particular case, my brain".

His name is Richard Buencamino. When he graduated with honors, we knew he would go places. True enough, he was accepted in the U.P. College of
Medicine's INTARMED program( an accelerated 7- year medical curriculum which only accepts the top 20 males & top 20 females in the Philippine) and was awarded as one of the outstanding interns in Surgery,ENT & Family Medicine. He passed the medical board right after that and was accepted to the Combined Internal Medicine-Pediatrics(4 years instead of 6 years of Internal Medicine & Pediatrics when done separately).

How can something go wrong with all these credentials? He is young, bright and full hope. However, God has other plans for this young man. One day while he was making his rounds in the hospital, he had the attack. As if that wasn't enough, while he was recovering from this, "(he) developed a terrible illness called Dystonia, secondary to the stroke(involuntary contraction of various muscles in my body like the tongue, eyelids, esophagus and neck)" disabling most of his bodily functions like speech due to involuntary contraction of the tongue, (he communicates through a voice synthesizing device and pen and paper). He also has an impaired vision at times and has to pry his eyes wide open to see. He cannot eat solid food and has to have his sustenance pass through a tube that is connected to his belly. His left ear has gone and can only hear through his right ear. Even his balance is way off and has to be assisted to stand and walk as a result of abnormal contractions on his head and neck.

But amidst all these trials, he has not surrendered his resolve. He turned to writing poetry and drawing. In spite of all those contractions, he still tries to write and draw from his heart. If there is one thing that this young man has, it is his will to live and his passion for life. While I was browsing through his writings, I remember distinctly something that he wrote. "Good food is not served on a platter twice." I had occasion to read his poetry and I had a hard time keeping my tears to myself as I read one of his poems that speaks to his 8 year old daughter. I hope it would be alright for me to reprint it here.

LAURYN, I love you very much!
9:30 am 10-10-08 by DAD

Lauryn, my daughter, I think of you in my solitude
Feeding my Jevity cans through my feeding tube,
I cannot talk, eat or walk properly
And my head turns to the right… o, Lord help me.

But I think of my loving daughter there in the U.S.
Who still has to hear me utter those words…
Oh Lauryn I yearn to talk & be with you,
Like a normal regular father would do.

How I yearn to carry you
Up in the heavens… the sky,
Where the mighty winds can blow your lush hair,
As you graciously go by.

There are so many things I long to give you dear,
So many dreams I desire to bestow but I fear,
That they may not come true
Yet, I know that GOD can make
the radiant sun emanate from this blue.

I remember the house by the beach,
The BMW SUV your Mom & I followed
but could not reach,
Yes, that house you were supposed to have
A party your friends & barkadas will simply love

I know with every fiber of my dystonic being,
That GOD is great every single time
Like that good old mailman HE always delivers
His graces to poor lonely souls
like us who always quiver.

So keep your chin up,
Lauryn, you are blessed from above,
GOD put us here for a purpose
We in due time will discern His love.

Lauryn, Eryn, I love you very, very much!
You may not know this fact,
Because I have been a stubborn fool
in all 8 springs that has passed,
I know that we will triumph,
In GOD we will always be exuberant!

Pearl Anniversary

Once again, I had been remiss with blogging and visiting my favorite blogs. I apologize. You see, we just celebrated our thirteeth anniversary. No, not my wedding, silly. I'm not that old! I am talking about my school.

Yes, we just celebrated our pearl anniversary and what a celebration! It is by far one of the happiest celebrations we ever had. Everybody worked to make this one a success. We truly functioned as one cohesive community. With the guidance and supervision of the ever supportive president of the organization we fondly call Broden, the school was alive and showed much bravado. Thanks to the present president of the student council and her minions, the activities went well without any hitch but full of glitz.

We have a lot to thank for. As a young community, we have gone through a lot. The buildings, for one, is a clear manifestation of progress. From the initial main campus sprung several more buildings that grew like mushrooms that our graduates could not recognize the whole campus anymore.

Going back to the activities, one of the highlights was a concert given by the faculty of both the grade school and the high School. I took part in the latter where I played with a band that came into being as a result of the festivities. I never imagined I will be playing with a former student who is now a co-teacher of mine. Here are some pictures I think I can share. All pictures appearing here were taken by Bro. Ceci. Thanks Bro!




Me on bass



Me trying Ryan's guitar for size


Not Ray Charles but Ralph
The Band

Rob Borja singing Run

Rocker Chris Kee

Ryan and his gizmo


Jeff Menil belting out a song

choochoowa

A presiden't's honeymoon only lasts for a short time

This is a follow-up of my entry on Obama's win last Tuesday. It seems that up until now, based on the news I've been watching on the boob tube, not only is America happy about Obama's success. We see footages of people celebrating in his father's country, Kenya, the UK, China and even in Obama, Japan which obviously shares his name.

The question to ask now is for how long will the jubilation last? Just a few days after that triumphant speech Obama gave, we see Wall Street on the brink of disaster once again. What this tells me is that no matter how charismatic a leader is, this too, shall fade away and soon, if the changes people expect do not come in what they perceive as the proper time. Proper time being interpreted by many as "soon" if not "now". Even Mr. Obama knows that the change he promises to bring may not come immediately. "it may not even be for a term," he said. But constituents do not share this view. They believe that with charisma comes enigma - that although it may be a puzzle, a charismatic leader would bring change for the better on their doorsteps right away.

We, as a people, have seen this before. We were ecstatic when we deposed the dictator, strongman Marcos after living in limbo for decades. We believed that Cory could do some magic. She could have. She had the magic wand a leader should possess. She did not only have the Filipinos support but the world's respect that even Jane Fonda was seen flashing the L sign while being a presentor at the Oscar's, and witnessed the folk singing group Peter, Paul and Mary coming over on their own to celebrate with us. She had the right timing and had the capacity to rally us forward. But the expectations changed and got worse as the term was about to expire. People began referring to her as "Corazon" pointing to the heart and then saying "C or Si" (yes) "Aqui" (here pointing to the brain, "NO". No sooner than she was in office when she foiled Enrile's and/or Laurel's "Operation (or was it Oplan)God save the Queen." Thereafter, she survived several more coup attempts from people who thought she was a weakling and from whom they can wrest power. Her reforms were met with skepticism from forces coming from all directions. Her bid at a nobel prize stomped on the ground, etc. Now, we are back to square one. We have the same ills that Marcos has left us with and with a vengeance. More poverty, corruption has tripled, allegations of election cheating that caused us at least Php 728M...and we are only onlookers at the present stalemate.

I will not be surprised if Mr. Obama loses his popularity. People do have short memories in spite of whatever talents one has. Even Christ was faced with turncoats in the end. What is certain is that evil has no race, no religion, no true color. It just is and will continue to be. It used to lurk in the shadows. It is now in the open wantonly wreaking havoc at our expense.

When America sneezes, the world catches a cold!

We are witnessing history as the US presidential elections unfold. Barack Obama is now the first African-American President. He will be facing a very rough road ahead as he leads a nation worried about economic crisis, two unfinished wars and global uncertainty. His election only signifies one thing - change! For instance, he won in areas never won by a Democrat for a very long time.

Obama scored an Electoral College landslide that redrew America's political map. He won states that reliably voted Republican in presidential elections, like Indiana and Virginia, which hadn't supported the Democratic candidate in 44 years. Ohio and Florida, key to Bush's twin victories, also went for Obama, as did Pennsylvania, which McCain had deemed crucial for his election hopes.

Furthermore, the majority seats in both houses which belonged to the Republicans will now be held by the Democrats. When Obama and running mate Joe Biden take their oath of office on Jan. 20, Democrats will control both the White House and Congress for the first time since 1994.

However, these details are no longer important to us, Filipinos. What we can look at his how the elections have been conducted, how the protagonists behaved during the campaign period till the end of the elections, how soon the winner is known.
The conduct of these presidentiables are admirable. They debated based on the issues, went to different forums where their opinions can be heard while our candidates try to outdo each other singing and dancing onstage.

We have learned to accept that when a candidate loses (even in the barangay elections) the losing candidate will automatically say he/she has been cheated. McCain, after several hours of counting, has already conceded defeat saying, The American people have spoken, and they have spoken clearly. Not only that, he also added:

This is an historic election, and I recognize the special significance it has for African-Americans and the special pride that must be theirs tonight," McCain said. "These are difficult times for our country. And I pledge to him tonight to do all in my power to help him lead us through the many challenges we face."

We have always been said to follow America's lead. We have listened to its music, danced the way it did, watched its movies, and others. Why can't we follow the way they conduct their elections? I say, we copy the good things about them and trash those that are not good.

In the meantime, we hope that the changes the election of Mr. Obama will bring will be beneficial for us, too. For after all, when America sneezes, the world catches a cold.

We can all smell the rat!

I am on a four-day vacation. It used to be for a whole week but what can I do? The school administration does not think we all need a longer break. I had a lot of things I planned to do for these four days but as usual, I didn't know where or how to start. First there is that 26" X 36" blank canvas I purchased last Thursday hungry for paint. I have several modules to complete for school but then I am on an official educational hiatus so a moratorium on every school activity was in order. Then there were the meals I had to cook which were separate from the rest of the members of my family as I am now forbidden to eat meat. None of these were appealing until now, the last day of my vacation. So, what the heck, I'll just blog.

I had been following news on the PNP scandal. The other day, the title of the story read PNP gets refund, apology from 2 'euro generals'. Shouldn't they? However, I was of the impression that the money was still in Russia. Does this mean that apart from the confiscated money taken from retired Gen. de la Paz, the others received cash themselves? It must be. I don't expect these two shelving from their own pockets, do you?

There are many questions these people have to answer to us, taxpayers. Most of these questions have been already asked in the committee hearing headed by Sen. Santiago. Unfortunately, we have yet to hear the answers. So far, they have been giving lies upon lies to explain for the money. When Gen. de la Paz was still enroute to Manila, he gallantly said he would face all the accusations and provide an explanation for this escapade. But when the day of inquiry arrived, neither he nor his wife showed up. Instead, people who stayed in Manila like Mr. Puno, faced the committee, none of whom, seemingly knew where the money came from or who authorized it. I cannot help thinking that maybe dela Paz was given the gag order and was told not to go by those who played a big role in this caper. We see Mr. Puno and another general getting the brunt of the senator's anger, almost submitting like a meek lamb. But if I know better, I can almost see the entire plan. "Just let these senators do what they want to do. AFter all, they do not know any better."

We have seen the likes of Lozada who seemed to have first hand knowledge about the ZTE scam and yet, the forces that be are still scot free. I have this one nagging question that will remain unanswered: What could have happened to the supposed contingency fund money had not the Soviets inspector discovered it? Nobody knew, right? Would it have been returned to the treasury of the armed forces? Would the culprits, not necessarily the generals only, mind you, have kept it and deposited in Singapore?

What I know is that with the coming home of Mr. Joke Joke Bolante, this issue would be buried yet again just like its predecessors. Manila, nay, the country stinks with so many rats!

Powertone

My nephew is a drummer in a band called Powertone. One of their original compositions "Kama" hit the charts in RJ underground sometime ago. It's now on video. Be the first to watch it here.

Some people just don't do their jobs right!

When Jesus Christ faced Pontius Pilate, the latter, thinking that he saw that Christ was not really a dangerous man, offered to the public the release of either Christ or Barabbas, who according to Matthew was a notorius criminal as part of a Passover custom. Much to Pilate's surprise and regret, the public chose Barabbas over Christ (I was about to say Jesus but I just found out that Barabbas' first name was also Jesus) thus making him a free man once again. What this simply means is that an executive's power to grant pardon to a criminal has been in practice since Roman times.

A week has passed and still talk about the release of condemned Claudio Teehankee, Jr. who was found guilty for the slaying of 16 year old Maureen Hultman and John Chapman is still hot news. Why not? It is as controversial and as dubious as can be. The circumstances of his release caught everyone by surprise. The victims' families were not consulted nor were they informed that the government was releasing their children's exterminator. True to form, the equally controversial Gonzales, defending the President, says: "(she) does not owe anyone any explanation or advance notice" practically implying that the power is absolute. She can give it at will. There lies the difference with Roman law. Pilate had to ask the people directly who they wanted to forgive. Teehankee's pardon was said to have undergone review by a committee. And yet, Gonzales was said to have admitted talking to brother Manuel saying "Three weeks ago bago umalis iyan (Manuel)...umalis sa Switzerland, dumaan sa office ko, hopefully sabi niya baka sakaling mapalaya ang kapatid niya (Three weeks ago, before leaving for Switzerland, Teehankee's brother went to my office and said hopefully I can facilitate his brother's release)." Does this in any way say that it was a committee who has recommended pardon?

I am not totally against presidential pardon. This is if the spirit of the power to give it is justified. After all, the point behind putting men behind bars is not really to avenge but to give him time to think about what he has done, suffer the consequences of his actions and repent. When these have been met, and the person, after a good showing of good behavior, can be given back his freedom. Why deprive him of his liberty until death? This brings to the question of the release of Teehankee. Has he shown repentance? Has he paid his dues to society? I don't think so. Being confined in prison with all the amenities of a luxurious life, or so it seems, is not penance. It is a long vacation. Teehankee was condemned to serve two life terms. He has only completed 14 years in prison living in a "rich man's kubol, "a special quarters built by ex-congressman Jalosjos... (that)features a queen-size bed, a refrigerator, a private bathroom with hot and cold water and, not least, a 42-inch LCD television set with cable service." Sheesh, I don't even have a queen-size bed!

AS De Quiros points out in his column, "the murder took place as a result of a "power trip"...the shooter wanting to prove to the world and himself he was in command, he was in charge, he was the man." Now, come to think about it, most of the prisoners in Muntinlupa live miserably in their hell holes. Teehankee did not. With his release, thanks to the president, he just affirmed this belief that he has done away with murder.

1000 views of "Girl Singing"

How many ways can a poem be viewed? A lot, that's what! Just as any other art form, a poem can mean a lot of things to different people. Interestingly, just right after I have done the translation of Dylan Thomas' poem, "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Goodnight", an online friend, the associate editor of Our Own Voice,Aileen Ibardaloza, wrote me asking if I would be interested to join a translation of Filam poet Eileen Tabios' The Secret Life of an Angel after Jose Garcia Villa's poem "Girl Singing".

I could not pass on this one. I knew this could be a good challenge. Neither Eileen nor Jose Villa are unknown to me. I even urged my poet friend, Arlene, to purchase the book The Anchored Angel which is a collection of poems by the late poet and was edited by Ms. Tabios. Arlene gave it to me as a gift during one of my visits to Canada.

Anyway, John had the idea of making a project of coming up with a thousand views of "Girl Singing" and in Aileen's email, there were already about 30 poets and visual artists around the world who have participated. I guess I am number 31 as I jumped immediately at the opportunity. Since there was no translation done in Filipino yet, I tried doing a direct translation into our native tongue. This was very helpful as I began to understand the poem better. Next, I experimented on a concrete poem. Please take a look at my attempts. You can find them here and the concrete poem here. Maybe you'd like to give it a try as well.

Can you guess what this is?

This blog was about three months old when I did my first translation of a well-known opus into Filipino. Much to my surprise, it earned a lot of praises that my friend Batjay even made a recording and had another close friend, blogger awardee Toni blogging about it

Guess what? I did another one. But before I post it, I intended to put a link of Toni's efforts here to show my appreciation for her kind words about my post. I was looking for the entry she did and since I did not want to bother her by asking her to dig into her files, I tried to find the entry myself using google. Lo and behold, I found out that it has been plagiarized by a certain Candy as early as 2007. You'll find it here. I already posted a comment on the entry asking her to take it off her blog as it is not only illegal as it is immoral. Hopefully, she will accede to my request.

Anyway, here is my second translation. This is a villanelle I tried keeping the form while being true to the color and tone of the poem. Just like my first attempt, this is being posted in its early stages. I'm sure there will be some more revisions as I find more apt words just like the one I did with the Desiderata. Can you tell me what the original poem is and who wrote it? There is no prize if you get it correctly. Not even bragging rights, hehe.

Huwag kang susuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim

Huwag kang susuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim
Dapat dumakdak at mag-alab ang tumanda sa dapithapon
Magalit ka, magalit sa pagsapit ng dilim

Kahit pa ang matatalino’y tanggap ang kulimlim
Dahil ang kanilang salita’y di nagdulot ng ingay sa maghapon
Hindi sila sumusuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim.

Ang huli sa matitino’y kumakaway at nagbibilin
Umaasang kanilang ginawa’y parating iaahon
Magagalit sila, magagalit sa pagsapit ng dilim.

Mga naligaw ng landas na nagbunyi sa kanilang awitin
Huli na nang malamang buhay nila’y kanilang itinapon
Hindi sila sumusuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim

Ang mga maselan, sa kamataya’y kinakapos man ang paningin
Bulag na mga mata’y nagliliyab tulad ng isang bulalakaw sa nayon
Magagalit sila, magagalit sa pagsapit ng dilim.

At ikaw ama, duon sa mataas at malungkot na bangin
Sumumpa, basbasan mo ng luha aking panalangin ngayon
Huwag kang susuko sa pagdating ng takipsilim
Magalit ka, magalit, sa pagsapit ng dilim

My friend Glennis

Since I began taking interest in poetry and learning how to write it, I have befriended a lot of poets around the globe. One of them is Canadian poetGlenda Hobbs, who has always been very gracious to give kind comments and useful feedback to my poetry everytime I posted something in our group. For one reason or another, I call her Glennis and never got the habit of calling her Glenda. She has several books to her name and together with her husband, Harry who has published two novels under his belt, make the rounds of Canada for poetry readings and promoting their books. Her poetry is usually about her hometown Flin Flon, Manitoba, her family and ancestors, and her cats. It was also through her that my poem "Mr. Right" was included in "Idiots of the World: Think", an anthology of short stories and poems compiled by Sable Bennett in 2002.

I first met her and her husband in person when I was invited by our common friend Arlene. It was then that I realized I can pull it off as a poet. hehe It was also then that I met several other friends who flew in from the States to meet with us. These were Tom Spencer and his wife Kathy from Indiana, Molly Critchlow from Washington, Karli Shanklin and her hubby Alfredo, who is a FilAm from nearby Seattle. Since we were all there, Arlene figured it would have been cool for us to give a poetry reading in Steveston so she made all the preparations prior to our arrival. On the eve of the reading, we were singing songs after dinner and enjoying the view at the balcony. Harry's memory is amazing. He knows practically all the lyrics of all the songs we sang while I labored over the chords figuring it out on my folk guitar.

The reading was a success. People did actually come to listen. After the reading, our gracious host thought it would be cool for me and my wife to experience an off season thanksgiving party. Everybody tossed in. If my memory serves me right, Karli brought a dozen pies, Molly brought cranberry sauce, Kathy mashed potatoes and brusselsprouts while Arlene cooked a huge turkey in the oven while Nitz cooked the rice. Those were such happy times I shall remember the rest of my life. Anyway, I digressed.

I was invited again to come to Canada twice and everytime, Glennis and Harry would be there to welcome me even if that meant they would have to fly in from Manitoba and stay in a hotel for some days. Just the same, we would all be together in Arlene's house until the wee hours of the morning. Such a sweet friend, here's something she has written coming out from one of those soirees. Glenda's poem

Having to see Tagaytay twice

Last Saturday, I was invited to give a class to grade schoolers in Lemery, Batangas. The school is a small one but it is very promising with my ninong Moie and Ninang Melba at the helm. It turns out that it was their family fun day and lots of fun was had indeed. What I want with a small school is that it seems like the people are more dedicated to teaching. None of those office politics you see in big, established institutions.

My day started very early as Lemery is some two hours away from Alabang. I left the house at around 4:30 am and was picked up by my ninong's nephew who was a former student of mine. We then proceeded to pick up a dog trainer and his belgian milinois Sid, who was as gentle as a lamb.

As we were still experiencing the tail end of typhoon Marce, we were accompanied by rain and the road was very slippery. But that did not deter the driver from speeding onto traffic which made me step on an invisible brake a couple of times. The road to Lemery, as I expected was foggy.

The children were adorable. They used the paint without any inhibitions. There was a stage mother who was instructing her kid. "Not too much water, sweetheart." I just managed a smile and let the child be on her own element.

When the class was finished, we were served a nice lunch and were on our way back home.

The following day, I was on the road again, this time with my siblings and my nephew who was to ask the parents of his girlfriend for her hand in marriage. Tagalogs call this event "pamanhikan". As was customary, we brought food with us. We brought several "relyenong bangus" and "kare-kare" which will be cooked entirely at the girlfriend's house as it might spoil on the way. When we arrived at the place, it turns out the family was preparing food themselves. We were about to have an actual feast!

I was a little worried that there might be some demands from the family as relatives are present, too. It turned out that the father was a swell guy who, like my siblings and I, loves to read. We were offered several Discovery magazines, Reader's Digest to while away the time while the food was being prepared. My eldest sister was able to borrow about seven books! But I digressed. After lunch, we all sat down to discuss the purpose of our visit. The father did not object. As a matter of fact, he just gave his blessings and left it to the couple to decide on their own. He only wished that the wedding be done in their place, for my nephew and his family to be there on the eve of the wedding "not to work or anything but to socialize with his family and relatives" which was very cool, and not too many ninongs and ninangs.

Everything went smoothly as planned. It all went well that surely, something must go awry and it did. My car lost its brakes! The good thing is that we were already in Marikina. If that happened in hilly Sta. Rosa or the SLEX, we were goners for sure! I immediately took the car to the mechanic to have it checked and we were on our way.

Just to make sure, I took the car for a thorough check-up this afternoon. The verdict, the brake pads are gone. I also had to have my caliper overhauled. Hopefully, I've seen the last of the car's problems.

Malapot na Tubig

I read a very chilling news story this morning about a young 32 year old mother who forced her children, aged 4, 3 and 2, to drink a bottle of liquid toilet bowl cleaner and having herself drink the same out of desperation due to extreme poverty, midnight of Monday in Magdalena, Laguna. This made me shiver in fright because I know that there are people in dire straits everywhere in the country and that this story can be repeated over and over again. A person with an empty stomach cannot think logically. The pangs of hunger coupled with sleepless nights is a deadly combination which can lead to depression with catastrophic effects.

What is frightening is that in a land where there are people who live in extreme poverty like ours, crime and other related activities can and will take place. The young mother, depressed and hungry could have opted to steal, join a bunch of thugs and sow terror, or resort to drug peddling like the others who have broken the law just to gain leverage in life. However, she did not choose to. Instead, she decided to end it all, depriving her kids of a life, which she was certain would have been lived in misery anyway. Whose heart would not bleed for a parent, who out of desperation, will decide to kill the little angels whom she has carried for nine months, fed, bathed and cared for lovingly in her arms? Who would not be sympathetic to a life full of misery that one would force her children to death and commit suicide herself?

In another story a justice of the appellate court has been dismissed by the Supreme Court due to grave misconduct while some of his peers were either suspended or reprimanded as a result of the battle for management control of Meralco by the Lopezes and the GSIS. Allegedly, there is a Php10M - Php50M bribe being discussed. This is nothing compared to the ZTE broadband deal which seems to have died a natural death. And to think how magnanimous in proportion the powers that be are quarelling over in that event in our history. Then I get to thinking, yes, there are people who have been numb to the sorry plight of our countrymen. They have been numbed by greed and power. We must remember that a great deal of our misfortune is brought about by corruption, an ill which our leaders seem to have perfected. A malaise which they have been afflicted with making them lose their conscience much so for the lone witness of the ZTE deal Lozada advise them to "moderate the greed."

We must face it. We are living in a country where majority of the populace is clinging to a knife for dear life. A hungry man will not care whether he goes to hell or not. How much beating can they take? There will come a time when these rich, powerful, unconscionable, sordid men and women will not have a fence too high to protect them, there will not be enough bullets for their guns to kill the multitude of people wanting to merely get a whiff of the comforts they cherish, there will not be enough cordon sanitaire to fend off thieves wanting some cash from their deep pockets and not enough armor to shield them from a hungry mob. Edwin Markham says it best in his Man with the Hoe when in the last stanza he says:

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
How will the future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--
With those who shaped him to the thing he is--
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world,
After the silence of the centuries?

Sometime in 2005, I wrote a tagalog poem entitled Malapot na Tubig which appeared in the first chapbook produced by Pinoy Poets and in an American ezine produced by Filipino expats called Our Own Voice. Never did I know that I would be reading the same story in real life. I am republishing it here and it goes like this:

Malapot Na Tubig
Ni Rolly delos Santos

Ipikit mo ang iyong mga mata anak.
Humimlay ka sa matigas na sahig.
Pawiin mo ang mga bantulot,
Pabayaan mong liparin
mga agam-agam sa himpapawid.
Kukumutan kita ng telang manipis,
mabigyan man lamang ng konting lunas
pangangatal ng iyong mga ngipin.
Sasabayan ko ng yakap na mahigpit
nang ika'y makatulog nang ubod himbing.
Sana'y iyong patawarin
Amang hungkag at nagdarahop
Pinalaki ang iyong hubad na isipang
Walang natutunan dahil sa karalitaan.
Ininom nating malapot na tubig
tanging lunas upang mapatid ang gutom natin.
Bukas, kung sakali mang ito'y dumating
Sa langit na ang ating gising

© Rolly delos Santos

Another year older

It's officially over. I am now a year older. The only thing about being born during the last quarter of the year is that it seems like you've been just as old anyway. People count your age at the coming of the year. It is the years they find the difference to without minding the months, right. So, come January, I will already be a year older again.

This year was spent without a bang. I decided to just stay home with my family, waiting for my cellphone to ring and reply to well-wishers. There is a natural high celebrating it quietly. My loving wife who had to go on overtime yesterday went to the market very early in the morning, cooked lunch that consisted of beef kaldereta, a stewed beef which to me is like the Indian bhiryani, especially that she uses coconut milk to thicken the sauce, and, of course, pancit bihon, thin noodles cooked in soy sauce, chicken bits, assorted veggies, for long life. How simple can that get? Yet, we had a feast.

For dinner, it was my turn to cook. I cooked some seafood pasta and I think it went well, too. Although I haven't exactly perfected the recipe as it seem to be wanting of something, we had a good dinner.

Actually, the splurging was done last Friday. Hubby and wife, Ollie and Kathy are also celebrating their birthdays this month and decided we should all go to Wensha Spa. Now, if you haven't been there yet, I think it would be a good idea to treat yourself and your wife/partner for once. It's with all the amenities of a spa like jacuzzi, steam and sauna baths, a one-hour massage and an eat-all-you-can feature - all available for an eight-hour stay.

I arrived at the place around eight and my friends were already eating. I started with rice, chicken and vegetables. The penne pesto (well, it seemed like it was pesto) didn't seem delectable as it looked too dry. After that, we splurged on shabu-shabu. We had all those meat and fish ball thingies, thin white noodles, vegetables and whatever we can throw on the broth.

We chatted awhile then decided to part with the ladies and take a shower. Us guys went to the steam bath where we stayed about twenty minutes. We also tried the sauna bath but I was right in front of the huge furnace and couldn't stand it. Then off we went for a massage. We were lucky to be given a room exactly for the three of us. After the massage, we went out again in our robes, (it was very comfortable) and met the ladies to eat some more. We went home around 1:30 am. And we have not touched a single alcohol! That's another new in our long list of agenda everytime we went out. That was fun. We sure will be doing it again. See you there soon!

Buwan ng Wika

Lubos na naiiba ang nakaraang Biyernes sa aming paaralan. Sa unang pagkakataon, naisipan ng administrasyon na ipagdiwang ang buwan ng wika sa naiibang paraan. Nuong mga taong nakalipas, naalala ko pa na talagang nagmimistulang piyesta ang huling araw ng pagdiriwang at ang bawat silid aralan na napalalamutian ng mga banderitas, ay napupuno ng kung anu-anong pagkaing pilipino. Mayruon pang nagdadala ng isang buong lechon, umaapaw na pansit, manok, kaldereta, at kung anu-ano pa. Subalit tulad ng pagdiriwang namin ng pasko, sumusobra ang handang pagkain sa bawat silid at ito ay kadalasang nasisira lamang o itinatapon matapos maipamigay ang sobra. Alangang namang pilit naming kainin at ubusin ang natira hanggang sa kami ay maimpatso, hindi ba? Kaya naman unti-unti namin itong pinalitan ng kung ano pa ang makapagbibigay tingkad sa pagseselebra ng wikang pambansa. Kaya nga, nuong Biyernes, naisipan nilang gawin itong isang mala-costume party kung saan ang bawat isa ay kinailangang pumasok ng paaralan sa kasuotang tunay na pilipino. Isama na rito ang iba't-ibang palabas at pagtutunggali katulad ng G. Lakan at Bb. Lakambini, sabayang pagbigkas at ang eksebisyon ng iba't-ibang pagdiriwang na ginaganap sa bansa tulad ng Ati-atihan, Sinulog, Dinagyang, Pintados atbp, kung saan naglaban laban ang mga piling grupo ng ikatlo at ikapat na lebel ng hayskul. Ang grupo ng aking bunso na nagpakita ng Kadayawan ang nagwagi ng unang gantimpala.

Ang sarap ding pagmasdan ng bawat isa sa kani-kanyang suot. Mayruong dumating na nakadamit muslim at napakamakulay ng kanilang kasuotan. May mga dumating na nakasuot panabong, ngunit walang dalang manok, (marahil ay kinain na), may dumating na naka katipunero (tulad ni Mr. Elloso na kumpletos rekados pati na ang suksukan ng baril at sumbalilo), may dumating na Ifugao, sabay na pakita ng "Php10.00 bawat litrato", may ilang Don Santiago delos Santos, Kabesang Tales at kung sinu-sino pa. Mistulang kamangha-mangha ay ang aming bagong Presidente na dumating na naka gwardiya-sibil na ayon sa aking mga kaibigan ay tunay na kasuotan nuong unang panahon. Ang ganda ng kanyang helmet na suut-suot. DAhil ako ay hindi masyadong mapangahas sa mga ganitong bagay, minabuti ko na lang na mag-barong. Ang biro ko nuon sa kanila ay mag-aamerikana ako. Hindi ba't sila Jose Rizal naman ay nakaganitong kasuotan? Nang sinabi nilang hindi daw pwede, sabi ko naman ay huwag silang mag-alala't ako nama'y naka-bahag sa ilalim, tulad ng mga kapatid natin sa Benguet at Baguio. Ano nga kaya't ginawa ko ito. Ang ganda ng pagtanggap dun sa isang pinuno na dumating ng naka-bahag nuon sa huling SONA ni GMA, hindi ba?

Tunay na napakaganda ng ating kultura. Sayang nga lamang at tayo ay lubusan nang naimpluwensiyahan ng mga banyaga, lalo pa't ginawa nila tayong mamimili imbis na maging taga-gawa. Tsinelas na lang, kailangan pang iangkat natin mula sa Brazil upang tayo ay magmukhang kagalang-galang sa ibang tao. Ilan sa ating mga kababayan ang gumagasta ng malaki upang sila ay pumuti at tumangos ang ilong? Bakit kailangang magkulay mais ang buhok ng ilan sa atin na kung tingnan ko naman ay hindi naman bagay sa ating kayumangging kulay? Para sa akin kasi, nakakahihiya ang magpumilit maging isang hindi naman tunay na ikaw.

Some people are just too dumb lucky!

Yesterday, I had to wake up early as I had to accompany my eldest son to the hospital who was due for an operation. He developed an epidermal cyst on his right thigh which alarmed me and my wife. Thank God that it looked harmless to the doctor although she said it has to be removed just the same. We will know for sure as soon as the result of the biopsy comes out.

So, with nothing to do, I bought a newspaper, tried doing the sudoku and the crossword puzzles, when both cannot be finished (had to redo the sudoku on another paper at home as I used ballpen which cannot be erased) I read the paper which as usual contained news on the MILF and the GSIS vs. Meralco. What struck me was that it also contained a story on the 15 richest monarchs in the world as covered by Forbes Magazine. It turns out that the king of Thailand is the richest with a net worth of $35 billion and the king of Swaziland as number 15 with $200 million. The list is as follows:

1. King Bhumibol Adulyadej (Thailand - 80 yrs. old) $35 billion
2. Sheikh Kalifa bin Zayed Al Nahyan - (UAE, 60 yrs old) $23 billion
3. King Abdullah bin Abdul Aziz (Saudi Arabia, 84 yrs old) $21 billion
4. Sultan Haji Hassanal Bolkiah (Brunei, 62 yrs. old) $20 billion
5. Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid (Al Maktoum Dubai - 58 yrs. old) $18 billion
6. Prince Hans-Adam von und zu Liechtenstein (Liechtenstein, 63 yrs. old)$5 billion
7. Sheikh Hamad bin Khalifa Al Thani (Qatar, 56 yrs. old) $2 billion
8. King Mohammed VI (Morocco, 46 yrs. old) $1.5 billion
9. Prince Albert II (Monaco, 50 yrs. old) $1.4 billion
10. Sultan Qaboos bin Said (Oman, 67 yrs. old) $1.1 billion
11. Prince Karim Al Hussein (Aga Khan, 71 yrs. old) $1 billion
12. Queen Elizabeth II (UK, 82 yrs. old) $650 million
13. Sheikh Sabah Al-Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah (Kuwait, 79 yrs. old) $500 million
14. Queen Beatrix Wilhelmina Armgard (Netherlands, 70 yrs. old) $300 million
15. King Maswati III (Swaziland, 40 yrs. old) $200 million

Looking at the list, my wife, exasperated just looking at the list said, "samantalang tayo, utang yan" (we may have that much although in the form of debt). Come to think about it. How much does the country owe now? Maybe we can get these guys to donate a billion, each?

What piqued my interest is that it seems that these guys really had it good in life. What did they do to deserve this vast wealth? Why are they so special? I am sure they also eat for sustenance, go to the toilet to relieve themselves, cater to the same human needs. My only consolation is that knowing that they are human beings like me, they also have their own problems. Maybe even more. Kings have been assassinated even by their own blood, solely because of the power and the money they have. Maybe the real monarch who thinks about the common man, works just as hard to keep his nation afloat, and that is not an easy job. Who knows? All I know is that I am contented with my family, a small house on a small piece of land I call my own (well as soon as I have paid the mortgage completely, hehe) afford a few luxuries in life. And that is all I prayed for. So I will always work hard and stay poor.

A Lecture in Makati

Having worked in Alabang for so long, I have not been attuned with the streets of Makati. I am a virtual tanga when it comes to the city. Last Saturday, I had to attend a lecture given by Paolo Manalo who is here on a short respite from his tedious studies in Scotland, initiated by my poetry group, Pinoy Poets at the Filipinas Heritage Library. Being a self-taught, poet enthusiast, I would like to take advantage of the opportunity to listen to a lecture in poetry and learn. I need all the help I can get no matter in what form. So, venue is not a problem for me. All I have to do is ask around. Well, I cheated a little. I coaxed my daughter who works within the city to take me there. It proved to be a little costly.

First, I had to lure my daughter to go to Makati on a Saturday, her rest day. To do that, I told her we were going to eat at Avenetto at the Glorietta. My other daughter learned about it and wanted to tag along, and she did. Lunch was splendid! We ordered two plates of the seafood pesto, a chef's salad and a pizza. I consumed one plate while they shared with the other one. What can I do? I go bonkers with good pasta. The chef's salad was so-so. Not as good as Italianni's or even Sbarro but on a hungry stomach, that'll do.

Here's the catch. My daughters did not know where the library was either. As it was still early, we went window shopping, my first born found a shoe to her liking, bought it and took me to Landmark. "Okay, this is Makati Avenue. Where did they say the Library was?" I had no clue. My friend just told me it is along the avenue. Yo make matters worse, my battery was about to die on me. I told my kids to go head for home. I will find my way.

I asked around around but nobody could give me a response with complete certainty. When I reached Ayala Museum, I knew the library would be at the other side. How do I get there? I couldn't find the imderpass to cross the street. I texted my friend, praying that my battery would be enough to send and receive a reply. He did and confirmed that the library was in front of the Manila Pen. I decided to go back to Greenbelt and just grab a cab! I never take my car to Makati. I don't want to get lost and waste precious gasoline.

To make the story short, I found it. The lecture was held at the Filipiniana section at the basement of the library. It was biting cold down there. Too bad, we didn't have time to browse their collection. The lecture was very informative. Paolo talked about how and why we rhyme the way we do. He gave examples of sonnets written by Juan Salazar aka J. F. Sinukuan, Angela Manalang Gloria, Jose Garcia Villa and others. The lecture was wittingly entitled, Our love for Glove Doves. How many words rhyme with love? Not too many! Glove, dove, and near rhymes like of, grove, prove, jove. There were other things he discussed but I don't think you'd be interested anyway.

After the lecture, we had dinner at Cafe Bola! (So that's where the freaking underpass is!) and went for a bucket of beer at Oody's, both in Greenbelt. All in all, I'd say it was a well spent day. Can't wait for the next lecture.

Inherent powers

I had been absent from the blogging world for almost two weeks since my sister's passing. Not that I had nothing to write about but my pen, or should I say my fingers couldn't find the words on my keyboard. Suffice it to say that I was not in the mood. The words just could not come out. My sister's passing, although was expected, still brought pain as she is the first sibling to pass away. At any rate, life has to move on for after all, struggles, pain and suffering are all for the living. I might as well face it now and wake from my useless slumber.

I was reading the paper this morning when an article written by Mr. Neal Cruz caught my attention. In the article, Mr. Neal Cruz writes about how the city government of Quezon City plans to widen a sidewalk in Novaliches without paying the rightful owners.

When I was still studying, I was taught that there are three inherent powers of the state. These are police power, taxation and eminent domain. Eminent domain is the right of the state "to seize a citizen's private property, expropriate property, or rights in property with due monetary compensation..." A landowner, whose land sits on a track of land that is proposed to be part of a public hiway, for example, cannot deny the state to have his/her land expropriated, but with due compensation. This can be what the Quezon City is probably exercising when it told residents of the Susano Road to give up three meters of their property for its sidewalk widening project. However, the city government seems to have abused its power for it does not want to pay for the land it is getting from the rightful owners. Never mind that the cost of land in this part of the country is at Php30,000 per square meter. The city government can always pay for a lesser price.

The thing is it does not want to spend a single centavo. Too bad that not only does City Administrator Tadeo Palma insists that they shall not pay for the expropriated land, the owners will retain ownership. What does this mean? Several things: The owners have land that they cannot use, the commercial establishments lose merchandise in favor of illegal sidewalk vendors and unfortunately, would probably be asked to pay for the land's real estate tax! What utter misfortune lies in wait for these land owners? What have they done to deserve this injustice?

Hanging On

My sister is fighting for her life. She's been bed-ridden for more than three years now. She is so weak that we never informed her that my aunt and my mother, to whom she was very close, have passed away lest she goes into depression which might have caused her early passing.

Like me, she is diabetic and has been one since I was a small child. Too bad that diabetes is an affliction for the hard-headed, she ate with gusto even if she knew it's bad for her. Her organs, most especially her kidneys are failing now. Edema has set in and she's very bloated and is no longer cognizant of her surroundings. Her eldest daughter who resides with her family in the States has come home to be reunited with her mother. All we can do now is pray and request that friends and acquaintances do, too. Please say a little prayer for her tonight. Thank you.


Hanging On

Her eyes have long held had that empty stare.
She gazes through you, seeing nothing
or as if trying hard
to figure out who stands near her.

Not today. As a matter of fact,
they even hinted a smile
as she looks at the tree beside her window.

Two birds land on the tree with a mouthful.

She hears chirps or are they cries for help?

She can only guess these are hungry birdlings

for she's been bed-ridden for years.

The doctor arrives toting a grocery bag
filled with medications.
He touches her hand, carefully makes a tourniquet
out of surgical gloves,
starts looking for her veins.

The tweeting becomes fainter and soon stops

as the pair of birds regurgitate and feed

their young.

His task proves to be harder than usual.
He taps her with his fingers several times
but no success. He tries the other hand
to see if he can find the elusive carrier of blood.

All flesh and bones, feathers scarce, their veins

visible and look like they might explode

at the lightest touch.

They nibble and munch never leaving any morsels

to be strong for the coming weeks.

Her husband transfers the food from blender
to the canister. Begins to pound on an anti-biotic
he shreds into tiny pieces to fit the tube.
The doctor finds a vein and pricks it with a needle.
The thrust is like a stab in his heart. This is his mother.

He connects the tube with the IV
and thinks about the birdlings in the nest.
Soon, those birds will learn to fly,
while she will have to close her eyes.


-------------

My sister passed away this afternoon, June 21, 2008. She is now at peace and with our Lord. Thank you for your prayers.

Events

Last Friday, I stood as principal sponsor at a wedding to a very good friend. A wedding has always been a very happy occasion. It is a testimony of love and devotion, a sworn committment to stand by your partner no matter what. Well, this couple is a very happy one and making a committment when you're at the top of things is not so hard to fulfill. I wish them the best.

the entourage

the guys


with friends at the reception

The following day, I attended an exhibit of the famous Saturday Group, a group of reknowned painters that was formed forty years ago and boasts of having in its roster luminaries that had been named national artists like Cesar Legaspi. The group paid homage to Malang, a well-respected practitioner and probably the oldest painter alive today. I managed to have a picture with him taken by friend and member,Omi Reyes.

>Me with Malang

Finally, Tuesday was my youngest daughter's birthday. We celebrated it with a simple dinner at Mary Grace at the Serendra. Unfortunately, Mickey couldn't come as he had a class at the time. Nevertheless, it was a fun evening enjoying it with just my children and my loving wife. Truly a night to remember.

dining al fresco

<Me with my lovely wife

Still-life # 1

I have always been fascinated with watercolor paintings. I marvel at watercolorists for I know how hard the medium is. To me, watercolor is by far the most challenging of all. For one thing, one must know how watercolor behaves. One should know how to "bleed" and control color and water and turn the piece into a beautiful harmony, an explosion of colors that looks like everything you see has been a product of serendipity and yet, I know that the composition has been meticulously planned. I only look at watercolorists with envy as they dip their brushes in water and then, with a thick amount of color, playfully apply this onto a paper. There are two ways this can be done. One is applying the color on paper that is as wet as something that has been left to drench out in the rain, or dry as an arid desert. I try using watercolor from time to time. Well, I get as far as the playful part but my works are more serendipitous than they are planned. See for yourself.

> 20" X 24 1/4"
Still life # 1

The Utopian Dream

My friend, fellow painter and quite successful I might add, Omi Reyes, will be having a one man show in Singapore. As part of his exhibit, his wife, fellow classmate, Tutit Reyes, asked me to make a write-up for the show. I am reproducing it here for safekeeping. I am also attaching two of his former works for your enjoyment.

tito rolly

------------------


Man has always been in search of that ideal place where one is completely satisfied with what he sees, smells and feels to the point of a sensory overload. A place where a perfect socio-politico legal system exists, where one can communicate with God through His creations making His word translatable in all languages that leaves man without any ambiguities and where the gap between the rich and the poor is totally non-existent. This longing for the ideal is brought about by the awareness that we live in an imperfect world and is present with different cultures as attested to by literature that is replete with the concept that may have started with the Greek poet Hesiod and Plutarch extending to Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia, or the German's The Land of Cokaygne and that ever famous work of Sir Thomas More - Utopia.

However elusive this dream of a perfect place has been, artist Omi Reyes has succeeded in giving us a glimpse of that world albeit within the confines of his canvass, thus illusory, making for at least a visual concept of a place we have dreamt of since time immemorial available and within our grasps, forever etched in the confines of our minds, giving solace to our desolate existence that is full of despair and want and fodder to our hungry souls. This he managed to do using his rich imagination translated unabashedly by flawless renditions of harmonious colors through excellent brushstrokes, hard work and a natural flair for what is truly beautiful.

As a painter, Omi Reyes has undergone several transformations starting from the simple finger painting technique which epitomizes a primeval urge to paint devoid of other implements but his hands, and yet, one can see the complexity of his creative mind for the images conjured by this seemingly raw technique is anything but simple. His landscapes alone can attest to his vivid memory juxtaposing a scene he once saw with his ideal world. The exuberant landscapes illumined by the sun are reminiscent of a stage play where a crafty lightsman distributes hundreds of volts into the right places to suggest a particular mood. This is usually accented by birds in flight making us feel free and unbothered by the pressures of our day to day problems. Echoes of the Valley and Threads of Light are masterpieces we know are teeming with the wonders of nature not of this world but from the rich mind of a master craftsman, a true artist. Through this style, one can feel that he truly knows his medium and speaks to us directly from the heart.

Then, there are those flowers that evoke a feeling of perfection. Once again, we see the mastery of the artist at composition, sometimes radial evoking a life continuum that goes on and on, sometimes linearly upright as if wanting to touch the heavens inducing one to remember his long forgotten dreams and ambitions. Omi has paid very close attention to detail that one can actually see the veins bringing life to his horticultural world. The brilliance of his rich hues is even more captivating than an actual bouquet of flowers one can almost smell the fragrance or feel the softness of the petals that one forgets it is a canvass one is looking at.

His semi-abstractions of multi-planed panels coupled with realism give us an idea of how he works his compositions. Unlike any other abstract artist, there are just no accidents in his compositions. There are no fortuitous effects one sees in Jackson Pollock or Franz Kline. Every single unit has been planned well. The textured background panels, the placing of the bird perched on a tiny twig and the contrasting colored appliques are well-planned that they succeed in taking us back to our ephemeral subsistence.

Lastly, there would have been nothing extraordinary with his attempt at music had it not been done on canvass. His musical instruments cascade with musical notes both lyrical and enigmatic in its execution. He need not play the instrument per se for his canvass is poetry put to music in its purest form. Looking at his Harmony in Still Life and Harmony in Silence can be compared to listening to Beethoven's symphonies or Chopin's Etudes.

If there is one common denominator throughout all these metamorphoses, it would be Omi's search for perfection and succeeding in attaining it. Omi has mastered all the techniques he had invented through sheer tenacity, perseverance and wit. He has given us a view of a perfect world defying the evils brought about by our shortcomings. Through his canvasses he reminds us that somewhere there is a place where there exists a balance between transcendence and reality, of abstraction and concrete, of imagination and fact, if only we look and work hard to achieve it. Going to an Omi Reyes exhibit has always been like living the Utopian dream.







"Harmony in Still-life"

My friend Arlene

I have written about my friend Arlene Lawson a couple of times. For those of you who haven't known her yet, she was a Canadian/American who I have befriended when I joined Writersvillage, an online university for writers sometime in 1998. We had been online friends since then and our relationship was strengthened when she came to the country to visit my family. Our story is a living testimony of how the internet, in spite of the horror stories we've read or heard over time, can be a tool for lasting friendly relationships. For those of you who missed this story, you can read it here.

When Arlene passed away on December 8, 2006, a huge part of my being has been taken away. She was not only a friend but "she was my mentor, my muse in poetry, my confidante who always listened when I whined, laughed at my antics, my source of energy everytime I felt so-so, my fan who believed in everything I do, my patron who had taken me to places I would not have dared go". As if to add insult to injury, my mother who was bedridden and suffering from Alzheimer's disease for several years, died two weeks after while my closest aunt (possibly the only one I have known) and best friend, passing on several months earlier. That was a very lonely year for me.

Yesterday, I was very happy to receive from our common friend, Bob Wands, a book of her poems together with pictures, which I think summarizes what she was when she was alive. Bob (her best friend) is co-owner with Arlene of an online poetry e-zine which also saw print called "The Country Garden Mouse", a namesake of her once -upon-a -time souvenir shop in Steveston, BC. During the memorial service, Bob "was given permission to extract from her computer all of her writing, and many of her pictures." Bob painstakingly sorted out these pictures that "have a relationship to the poetry, intending to chronicle ... from (our) many conversations - were the important periods of her life." AS a result, this book aptly titled, "The Real Arlene" is born. Reading this book reminded me of long conversations with her over the phone, the internet and during my stay in Canada.

Arlene is by far one of the best poets I have come across in my years of stay in the university. Just to show you how good she was, here is a poem she wrote about the most painful experience she ever had. In November of 1959, she lost her 23 month-old baby, Theresa, (she could have been the same age as I) on her lap when she was killed by a drunk driver. In this poem, we can feel the anguish of a mother who has cared so much for her daughter only to lose her so soon. The brevity of the poem and its simple imagery makes it very powerful for me. Here it is:

Empty now

Still

Pack away
forsaken playthings.
still damp diapers
folded dresses

But...Who
WHO

Wipes the final
finger smudges
from off
the
mirror?

Arlene Lawson

A useless obligation and more.

I am not very fond of June. This is not because the month ends a long hibernation from work. While it puts to an end to an enjoyable summer, tours I have embarked on included, experiencing new cultures, making new and enforcing relationship with old friends, meeting new acquaintances and learning a lot of things, there is a different reason why I do not like the month of June. June is the time to work on my obligations, one of which is to register my old car at the LTO, purchase a new insurance policy and worse, take my car to an emission testing center to ensure that it is still street-worthy. Emission testing - what a hassle and a lot of waste of my valuable time. I would not have minded taking my car for testing if I am assured that the procedure does what it purports to do. Lessen, if not totally eliminate the terrible pollution on our air. What makes me angry is that I see vehicles which have just been registered, hence, supposedly have passed the test emitting a lot of dangerous smoke. Public buses and trucks are major culprits and the government could not do a thing about it.

Sadly, pollution in the country is so bad that this is the first thing my foreign friends who come for a visit, notice. Rightfully so because I have occasion to visit several countries and it has always been a delight to inhale their fresh air. Not so in the coutry. Try deep breathing and you won't last a single breath. The smog will stop your attmept making your lungs heavy and longing for clean air. If only government had a good political will to stop pollution, we could at least solve this problem. However, when police authorities do not care, probably because they have been bribed to look the other way, no emission testing or any procedure for that matter, will work. In the meantime, I have to worry about finding time to register my car and all the ramifications that go with it for I work on the days that these government agencies hold office. Pray tell me why these agencies do not open on weekends?

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Talking about cars, the increase in the price of gasoline seem to be unstoppable. Nothing can be done about this. This is a world-wide phenomenon. What we don't realize is that this entails a more horrific scenario than we think. It is possible that we are running out of this very important resource. Think about it. It took billions of years for an oil deposit to be built and this is not replenishable. With the way we consume this commodity, it is not impossible that we have used up all the oil this planet can provide. When this happens, we will have to go back to riding horses or walk our way to our destinations. No more planes or ships or even fast cars to take us to any far-away country or province in a short span of time. We will probably have to use the same kind of ships used during the galleon trade to go to America, for example. That is unless we find a substitute for oil.

Solar energy perhaps but research on this technology may been stunted by the powers that be for it would mean business loss for oil companies. However, with the advent of the depletion of the oil reserves, now is the time to look for substitutes and Filipinos, if given the chance and the encouragement, can face this problem head on.

We must be doing a good job

Last Wednesday, I was out of the house for a cig when my son called me from the house. He said my eldest daughter who is now working for a car company, has something to say. Just like her mom who has a penchant for ceremonies, I was wondering what the announcement would be. As I was told that she wanted me to be the first to hear the news, I entered the gate and was about to go inside the house. However, before I could enter, she already met me at the door. Secretly, she whispered that she was given her yearly bonus. Much to my surprise, she gave me 2K. I asked her how much was her bonus but she said I did not have to know. (Of course!) Then, she called her mom and gave her mom her share. Then, she called on her siblings, who was jumping with joy upon receiving her surprise. My eldest son, in jest, even kissed her footsteps while the youngest gave her kisses on her cheeks. Then, we partook of the ice cream that she brought home.

Of course, she did not have to do that. She already shares with some of the household expenses. When I was growing up, we had a neighbor who was berating her son for not showing utang na loob (debt of gratitude) to his parents for having reared him and sent him to school. At the time, I thought that was right but my parents told me that there was something wrong with her logic. It is the parents' obligation to rear their children, give them shelter and clothing, send him to school and all that. But, the child has no obligation to his parents for bringing him into this world. The child never chose who his/her parents will be, in the first place. If a child decides to take care of his aging parents, feed them and give them a share of his/her earnings, that would be out of the graciousness of his/her heart, not out of duty or obligation.

Nevertheless, I rememeber the first time I earned money. It was during the first quarter storm and ironically, the country was visited by a strong typhoon and hundreds of people were stranded in Central Luzon. The government ordered nutribuns (I wonder if anybody can remember these) to be sent to those stranded along the roads of Pampanga en route to Manila. The producer of these nutribuns were neighbors and could not keep up with the demands to supply the needed product unless they work round the clock. The solution was to employ us, the neighborhood gang, for the night shift and I got the chance to work even for just a night. I remember having earned Php10.00. (Maybe we were underpaid but we did not care. What we knew was that we had fun). I offered my mom half of it and she was very pleased. When my eldest daughter Now I know what that money meant to my mom.

An Icon leaves so that he can live forever

Many young people do not know what music was like during the late 60's to the 70's. Well, I spent my teen-aged years during the 70's and I know that we were following a trend handed to us by the 60's "rock and roll" generation of those Elvis Presley wanna-be's, The Ventures, Fab Four and all that. What I meant to say was that while I was growing up, learning how to play the guitar, what we would do was copy foreign songs note for note, find a singer who sounded like the original, either from the US or the UK, and sound like we were the ones who invented the thing. In other words, we were mere copycats. You could just imagine how many Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Grandfunk and Steppenwolfe records we had to break just to learn the songs. Every long-haired teen-ager at the time had seen Woodstock, the movie, and sang to the tunes of the "Ten Years After", CSNY, and Jimi Hendrix fanstasizing that we were them. The closest you sound like the original, the better.

Then came Howlin' Dave and DzRJ! He spearheaded the Pinoy Rock and Rhythm together with bands like "Juan dela Cruz band", Resty Fabunan's "Maria Cafra" or Edmund Fortuno's "Anak Bayan" and people began composing their own songs. Soon enough, as rock is not the cup of tea of everyone, the OPM, which was more palatable to the romantic pinoy came into the picture.

However, this post is not about music. It is about a man who brought class to pinoy music the way it should be. Before him, musicians never stood a chance to compete with foreign songs. Now, the young generation listens to them as much as they would listen to those coming from abroad. Let's just say, he started it all.

This is about a man whose dedication to music is beyond compare. He was not just a regular rock jock. Aside from the beautiful music he shared, he always had something to offer his audience - an information or two about the artists, the songs and everything that would arouse our interests. He made pinoy music happen. He talked and we listened.

I just woke up in my room at a Don Bosco retreat house in Nasugbu last Tuesday after a tiring but fun-filled, values-laden session with Fr. Gerry when I read online friend, Gilbert's text message of Howlin' Dave's passing. From then on, varied images of him came to mind. A long-haired idealist singing Neil Young's "Birds" in a concert, my former students who are now radio jockeys whom I met in a concert working with him and praisinig him for his art and expertise, and lastly, him carrying a crutch to help him walk on Batjay's book launching, shaking hands with friends came to mind. Then, it dawned on me, he's gone.

Not only will he be missed by his family, especially by his brother, my friend Batjay, but the whole rock industry which he created and spearheaded till the end. His booming but gentle voice heard over the airwaves might be no more, but it will echo everytime I hear a new, decent rock band debuting on the radio knowing that this could be the start of something big. He was the closest I have ever gotten to a true icon. I shall content myself that I have shaken the hands of his brother, saw his family and was at least privy to what it's like to be growing up with him through his brother's memoirs. My condolences to his loved ones and to those whose lives he has touched throughout the years.

I know my post cannot give justice to a man as big as Howlin' Dave so I am attaching articles written about him here:

Eric Caruncho's The last of the singing cowboys

Pocholo Concepcion's Howlin’ Dave, Filipino rock icon, dies at 52

Rome Jorge's A cry for Howlin' Dave

Tidbits

Several days after my return from S. Korea, I was on the road again, this time with my wife and four more other couples who have been friends with us for years. We used to go out with the children a lot. They all grew up together going to places from way up north to Ilocos and Cagayan Valley to as far down south as Marinduque. However, this year, the children, theirs and ours have grown and so we all decided that we could use the break from parenting and enjoy a trip just on our own.

We took a three-day rest at Casa Ophelia owned by one of the friends' brother-in-law. It was his Taj Mahal for his wife Ophie, a resort of three swimming pools with fantastic slides, cottages and rooms. As we decided on a night trip, the ten-hour trip was bearable if it could not be called comfortable.

On arrival, we were served breakfast after we have unpacked,then took about a two to three hour nap. I decided to paint the nearby stream and the rock formations using watercolor. We all swam in the afternoon. In the evening, the guys played cards. As we were used to playing Texas Hold 'em, one of the players suggested we played Hi-Lo and we enjoyed it very much.

The following day, we went to check out the wakeboarding at Cam Sur. Unfortunately, the cables were being fixed so we failed to experience the sport. We then went to Naga City proper to check out the mall and guess what? I found a treasure! I was waiting for Nitz browsing on a small bookstore and found a thick, hardbound copy of Stephen King's "It", which sells for Php190.00. I immediately bought it thinking it will never happen again for me to find something like this.

We were joined for lunch by resort owner, Roger, who just flew in from Manila. We went shopping and then heard mass at the church where the Lady of Peñafrancia stays.

We had to leave very early the following morning as Nitz and I still have to attend my brother-in-law's wife's 60th birthday which was to be held at Antipolo. Suffice it to say that I was too tired already when we got there. But the kids had fun being with their cousins and honoring their aunt.

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Now that school is about to open, the teachers are way over their heads preparing for the coming of the kids. We have to listen to different speakers during seminars, revising our syllabi, bulletin boards. This year, as I am assigned as a classroom adviser, I will have to add decorating a classroom to the list. A week more to go and we will be at the warfront once more. :-)

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After a short hiatus, the blogkadahan site is running again. Spearheaded by the resident physician Doc Emer, members of Blogkadahan and invited guests will answer the Proust questions, a personality test designed by French writer Marcel Proust. Follow the llnk and see for yourselves what and how your regular blogger thinks. See you there!

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As promised, here are some pictures from my Korea trip.

Together with friends

At the dock waiting for the boat to take us to Nami Island


Chicken BBQ at Nami Island

hotel facade
at the hotel lobby
With my boss
<The Korean connection