Bakit? Why, oh why?
Nope, this is not a dying wish list similar to the Jack Nicholson/Morgan Freeman movie. I haven't gotten to that. Truth is, I want to make sure my own Bucket List will make my wife laugh and not live in fear before that day comes. I promised her that.
Today is the day before All Saint's day. October 31 is the only day of the year when Pinoys pretend to understand Halloween, dress up funny, and extort good candy from hapless neighbors. Well, it's not always just good candy. When my brother went Trick or Treating when he was a kid, he had to carry a heavy and ripe pakwan (watermelon) for 5 blocks. Proof that our neighborhood did not really understand what Halloween was all about. They probably thought we just dressed funny while we cutely harassed people for food.
I just got back from another amusing stroll (after errands) from the Manila Memorial park. Let me share with you some of my observations. My pilosopo (read: smart-ass) nature prodded me to ask questions while I observed.
Why do we remember our dearly departed on todos los Santos (All Saint's Day) and take the day-off (or go back to work) on All Soul's Day? I've got this crazy picture in my head where dead people are absent on November 1st and "show up" the next day (All Soul's day). The dead guy would exclaim to his friend (to dead guy, too, of course) every year: "Manong Fred! Pucha! I missed the party again! Why do they always celebrate on November 1?!"
Why do politicians set up 'Help Desks' when people think they're just posing for pa-cute purposes. Picture taking, anyone? Who's helping who?
I stayed for about an hour in the cemetery near an area where an irritatingly loud karaoke system was piping-in pop music. In a span of about 45 minutes, I must have heard the song "Burn" (by Tina Arena) for 5 times. Is the DJ alluding to candles or some dearly departed relative's infernal abode? Why can't he do us all a favor and just play it on his iPod? Please.
The park is as immaculately clean as heaven when we get there, and as dirty as hell when we leave. Why?
Burger King, KFC and a stall selling La Paz Batchoy set up their stall near a family friend's tombstone. The family friend died of stroke from all the fatty foods. Irony sometimes does have a sick sense of humor. Why do I even think this is funny?
Why is the air thick with combined scents of candles, flowers, wax, incence, freshly cut grass, siopao and sago gulaman? I don't mind really. I just wish I could smell just the siopao and sago gulaman.
Why are the traffic policemen positioned near food stalls only? Hmmm...
Why can't I eat dinuguan and puto in a place like this?
Why do I crave for hopia when I smell the scent of Chinese incense?
Why do I keep asking the same questions every year?
Have a safe weekend and let not the mumu scare you. Remain calm. If you can't (remain calm), RUN. Don't forget the bawang. May the force be with you.
In my Friendster profile, I wrote "Food critic ng mga food critic" (Food critic of food critics) under Occupation. I thought I'd write something different to perhaps stress my point that, since childhood, I have had a love affair with food ever since the first time I tasted tinola (chicken broth) and Gerber Baby chow.
Along with that love for food was the pursuit of setting my sights on colorful images and the happiness and excitement it constantly brought. Like most children, I was drawn to cartoons and the various food items that the characters gulped, slurped, sipped, and swallowed. No wonder TV commercials about cereals and foodstuffs that targeted kids had cartoonish endorsers that bumped, boinked, bounced, gudushed (sound effects mine), and careened on screen.
Cartoons and food = excitement and contentment. Interesting equation.
I'd like to believe that my tastes and preferences in food have somehow reached a level of sophistication. The usual kanin and sarsa (rice and sauce) my yaya slapped on my plate was now replaced with sushi and Kikkoman with wasabi. Yes, I am that sophisticated as well as mababaw (shallow) in my food choices. What can I say? One man's foie gras can be plain adobong atay (chopped liver in soy sauce) to another.
When I grew older, my cartoon viewing choices evolved from Voltes V to The Simpsons (my wife argues that this is hardly evolution). While I enjoy Family Guy and Drawn Together, she'd step out and would rather change the wallpaper in our PC's desktop.
Then the Pixar movie Ratatouille was shown. My wife and I watched it and both of us adored it. At first it started satisfactorily funny with the expected hilarious facial expressions that were, of course, cartoonish in a bizarrely human way.
The end scenes where Peter O'Toole, (who gave life to Anton Ego, snootily intimidating food critic) delivered the last lines was simply brilliant. It's writing was flawless and excellent. His critique was like a blog written by omnipotent entity. In my humble opinion, Anton Ego in Ratatouille was one of Peter O'Toole's best performances...and he was not even seen in it. I will not dare use more corny adjectives to stress my point. Watch...
“The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated”
- Mohandas Gandhi
I came across this article on the net while I was searching for alternative and natural flea control for my dog. SEOUL, South Korea - Dog meat is increasingly popular among women in North Korea because the traditional Korean delicacy is believed to be good for the skin, a pro-Pyongyang newspaper in Japan reported Wednesday.
Dog meat has long been regarded as a stamina food in both Koreas, widely consumed on hot summer days in particular.
"Sweet meat has various vitamins, including Vitamin A and B and is good for digestion problems and fatigue," the Choson Sinbo newspaper said on its Web site seen in Seoul.
"Customers get convinced about the efficacy of sweet meat when they see the skin of our employees and cooks," the paper quoted the chef, Ryu Jong Mok, 47, as saying.
The paper said Ryu also has "resilient and fine" skin.
Dog meat is also widely consumed in South Korea, especially among middle-aged men on belief that it's good for stamina and virility. But women in the South are usually less willing to try the food.
Earlier this week, a poll showed that more than 35 percent of South Korean dog owners also eat dog soup.
Dog meat is also eaten in some other Asian countries, including China, Vietnam, the Philippines and Laos.
Activists regularly criticize the practice and call for bans on eating dog meat.But wait! I saw this website, too.
http://www.koreananimals.org/
Welcome to the official site of International Aid for Korean Animals.
Welcome to the official website for International Aid for Korean Animals (IAKA). IAKA is a non-profit organization founded by Kyenan Kum in 1997 to promote animal protection and humane education in Korea. Since its inception Kyenan has worked tirelessly, campaigning worldwide to educate the international community about the difficult conditions for dogs and cats in Korea. A major victory for IAKA came in 2007 with the revision and strengthening of Korea’s 1991 Animal Protection law, which IAKA had long campaigned and petitioned to improve.
KAPES was founded in late 2007 by Kyenan Kum and Haesun Park as a response to the newly strengthened Animal Protection law. The two activists realized that with stronger legal protections in place, direct protest of the government and of the meat trade would be less productive than eliminating the demand for dog and cat meat altogether, through hands-on education. The construction of a new Adoption and Education Center in Seoul, capital city of South Korea, is the first step towards teaching young Koreans about the humane treatment of animals and instilling them with a deep compassion for dogs and cats. With the new Animal Protection law in place, IAKA/KAPES seeks to work in partnership with the government to successfully affect positive change in Korean society. The time is finally right to eliminate the plight of Korea’s dogs and cats.
If you think this blog is about hating Koreans, I'm sorry to dissappoint you. I won't join that blogging melee. The fallacy of generalization can be both funny and messy.
Bhappu Gandhiji was right. We have a long way to go. We somehow need to educate some folks that it's just not right to make good old loyal Bantay our 'pulutan' (bar chow) and Muning for siopao-filling. It will never be right in so many levels.
I don't care if eating dogs will make my skin taut and smooth. Dog and Cat was never the main ingredient in Glutathione, nor will it ever be. Them dog-eaters should start educating their ignorant punk arses! Grrrr....Woof!
They say dogs have been man's best friend since ancient times. Would you eat your best friend? I don't believe you can.
When I was still an uhugin (snot-nosed) kid, I was made to believe that I can hasten my growth spurt by taking siesta (afternoon naps) after lunchtime. Taking siestas were a must in those days as it also meant following the disciplinary methods of my parents. My brothers and I were usually motivated by fear to take siestas. "Kapag hindi ka matulog, hindi ka makakasuot ng pantalon pag laki mo! (If you won't take a nap, you can never wear long pants when you grow up!)" my mom would quip. I've always thought long pants were cool... and a 3-piece suit like Al Pacino's getup in The Godfather. I have to wear those when I grow up, I'd say to myself.
After a hearty lunch, my papa would spread out the banig (sleeping mat) on the breeziest corner of the house which was usually near the lanai, in full view of oncoming guests and househelps (he couldn't care less if he snored shirtless). He would lie down on his side, hike up his shirt and call for me. This automatically meant that I scratch his back for a few minutes and lay beside him while we discussed about what to have for merienda (afternoon snack). He in turn would lightly massage the bridge of my nose with his index finger, make my knuckles crack gently, and then like magic, I'd fall asleep. Weird but true.
After 2-hours of siesta, I'd be awakened by the feel-good aroma of hot bread and bold coffee. I was also made to believe that afternoon munchies will also benefit my rapid growth in height if...and only if I slept siesta. I somehow convinced myself that merienda won't taste right if I did not nap in the afternoon.
There were the usual suspects atop thetable. Brown paper bags that moistened because of the steam from the bread would be on the lanai tray.
Pan de Coco is a soft bread with shredded coconut meat filling sweetened by condensed milk and sugar and sometimes infused with custard.
Ensaymada is a sweet bread topped with a layer of margarine sprinkled with sugar. My mom usually orders Special ensaymada with ham strips baked inside the dough.
Monay is a soft and sweet bread best for dunking in hot chocolate or coffee.
Pan de Monggo is the cousin of...drumroll please...you guessed it... the famous HOPIA! Enough said. I have yet to blog about Hopia...soon.
...and the most notorious of them all. The Pan de Regla! Its real name is actually Kalihim (secretary?) but my papa made me call it Pan de Regla. I believed him like a young padawan would trust his Jedi Master without asking any questions. Pan de Regla/Kalihim is a sweet bread usually moist in the middle, much like moist cookies would be. Its taste would trigger an endorphin-induced experience which would set me off exhibiting my dancing skills (or the absence of it).
Why Pan de Regla, you asked? Look closely. Red coloring right smack in the middle of bread that looks like a female sanitary napkin. My papa's wry sense of humor is as colorful as his views on food. I'm sorry if I spoiled your appetite.
Pan de Regla never survived the onslaught of merienda eaters after waking from their siesta. Even if my brothers Dennis, Jojo, and Jun would attack Polvoron (powdery milk candy), Ensaymada and Pan de Coco respectively, they would still commandeer their share of Pan de Regla. Being the youngest, I had to learn and adapt fast. My cousins Dick and Del would intercept our househelp from the panaderia and strategically ambush the bag of Pan de Regla. We pretended to help yaya from the load of carrying the various paper bags. Unbeknown to her, we already abducted the bag of Pan de Regla all to ourselves (*evil laughter*).
My brother Jun would dance joyfully his quiet jig while he ravaged his Pan de Coco. I always thought it was hilarious the way babies and children in general would dance when they ate something tasty and delicious. Now my brother and I are grown men who wear long pants and we still dance, not to music, but to delicious bread...(and choc-nut)!
Merienda was probably my favorite meal of the day. My papa was responsible for my "heightened awareness" of food and people. He had a habit of checking out 2 places whenever he visited any provincial town: the palengke (wet market) and the panaderia (bakery). He had this theory about how you can have a bird's eye view of the economy of the town by seeing how lively or depressed the palengke is. The panaderia, he believes, is a barometer of how friendly the natives are by the taste of their breads and pastries. His theories on food and people are gospel truth to me.
Keep the Pan de Regla warm up there, Pa. I'll hang out with you later.
Do you eat your lunch while watching TV. You do? Good for you.
Can you watch Willy Revillame in Wowowee while having lunch? I can't. I have fairly above average hand-eye coordination skills and can multitask much like any average dude with with an average IQ and respectable EQ. I just can't do both (lunch and watch Willie). My food won't go down. My wife will get mad at me if I don't finish my food (gulay and all) saying: "mahal ang groceries! Wag mong sayangin."
I do admit I did enjoy singing "Boom-Tarat-Tarat" and cheering "Hep hep Hooray" ...when I was 7 years old. Now I'm 37 and can't stand hearing them songs. I feel the fun tunes that I enjoyed when I was a toddler had been unjustly bastardized by hosts who try (too damn hard) to be funny. To make it worse, Willie has 3 gorgeous ladies singing with him: Valerie Concepcion, Mariel Rodriguez, and Pokwang (Yes, I believe Pokwang is gorgeous.). These ladies, beautiful and sexy as they are, sound like 'pinupunit na yero' (torn galvanized iron) and are unfairly portrayed as mere sidekicks who pretend to laugh at Willie's tasteless jokes while they are jabbed at as well. I may be reading their eyes and nonverbal cues too much but I think it pains them to do what they do with Willie... parang trabaho lang. It's just not fair to these ladies.
What's with all the meaningless singing and dancing? I can imagine a balikbayan or a Caucasian American being made fun of once they get back to their homes in the US of A.: "Hey, Bob! Do that dance where you put deodorant on your freakin' armpit. Come on, do it one more time! Aw... come on Bob!" Poor Bob, he's going to live the rest of his life thinking Pinoys are morons.
Our househelp sings these songs while doing housework. Even the manong guards hum these tunes. Why can't they remember good songs from Parokya ni Edgar, Rivermaya, or Eraserheads?
There was a time when the manongs who drive jeepneys, taxis, buses, and tricycles used to sing along to songs by the Beatles, Bread, Crosby Stills and Nash, The BeeGees, Led Zepellin, and even ABBA. Songs back then had meaning and the singers had TALENT. Even the novelty green-minded songs written 30 years ago by Tito, Vic, and Joey had us all hitting the floor laughing. They also wrote great love songs and dance tunes which are still Karaoke favorites. They belonged to the powerhouse groups that established The Manila Sound in Philippine pop history. I say we should encourage singers and songwriters to bring those days back. I don't know how. I just dream about it.
My brother in Florida couldn't stand watching Willie. I told him there are other good Filipino shows like documentaries done by both ABS-CBN and GMA. I suggested he try watching some shows whenever he misses us. He refused to subscribe to TFC (The Filipino Channel). He calls it TFC: Too F@#$%^&g Corny.
I feel I may have been too harsh in judging Philippine Prime time TV soap operas. The fact that it affects a lot of people's emotions before going to bed is a sign that our national consciousness is adversely affected. I somehow feel I should give the soap operas some credit for taking our minds off work while imagining ourselves electrocuting the contrabidas (villains) or empathizing with the quest for justice of the beautiful bidas (heroes) even for just a couple of hours. Sadly, there is more urgency in rescuing our yayas, drivers, our children, and ourselves from lunchtime TV.
Thank God for HBO, The History Channel, and Jeopardy on 2nd Avenue. I can now digest my gulay while watching lunch-hour TV.
Look, sweetie...clean plate!
We call it "nag-uulyanin" in Filipino... since olden times we've heard of and witnessed older people losing their sense of direction and memory, both long and short-term. It's somehow conveniently dismissed as an expected degeneration of the brain due to advanced age or stresses in the past.
I think this McDo commercial did justice to our older folks who have the degenerative brain disease. This commercial has a lot of heart and teaches good values to our kids regardless of socio-economic class and culture.
I might have made fun of people with Alzheimer. As i ridiculously claimed in my profile, there is no scientific proof that hopia and coffee can prevent Alzheimer disease. I apologize to readers who have family members with Alzheimer who might have been offended.
The same is true about hopia and coffee in relation to the prevention of erectile dysfunction. I'm not sure if I can also post a video about it here. Hmmm...
This illustration is perfect! I got this from my high school yahoo group. I guess this has been passed around emails for years.
I have reason to believe that this is a universal truth. The question is: If you shopped with your wife (or girlfriend), what would you do for 3 hours and 20 minutes?
Almost all women can do these ranges of motion inside malls. They can walk in and around crowded malls (i.e. Divisoria, 168 Mall, Tutuban Mall, etc.) with relative ease and lose track of time. They'll memorize stall numbers, location of boutiques, specialty shops, shoe stores, yet forget where the car was parked.
In grocery stores, items for men (shavers, after shave lotion, breath mints, batteries for the remote, dental floss, hopia, choc-nut, chips, FHM etc.) are all near the counter. Stuff for ladies can be placed even in the lowest and farthest of shelves and still be located effortlessly with memorized aisle number. Shopping for ladies shoes and clothes is another story. It deserves a new blog... or volumes of blogs.
My wife will read this after I press 'Publish Post'. I know she will just let out her usual high-pitched belly laugh while her shoulders bounce and her eyes twinkle as if agreeing to this amusing truth. I anticipate she will pinch me in the rib and exclaim: "Uy sobra ka, hindi naman!"
Her amused laughter will give away her guilt. She will read this beside me, as she always does when she reads my newly posted blogs. My loving spouse wants me beside her every time she reads them. She wants me close by so she has instant access if she needs to pinch me in the earlobe, slap my arm, or pull my hair (sa patilya) if I make fun of her in the post.
After that she'll forward my blog to all of her friends.
I came across this article while I was writing my blog about Rizal's beach house in Dapitan, Zamboanga del Norte. Might I interest you in a good laugh or an intriguing tongue-in-cheek possibility?
You decide if it was just lost in translation. Sorry, I couldn't resist...
An entry discovered on Jose Rizal's diary written in either Tagalog or Spanish, 1 MAY to 16 JUNE 1882
[Aboard the Salvadora] 2nd day of my sailing -- [Thursday] -- 4 May
"A Spanish gentleman is traveling with us. He has a beard, eye-glasses, and wrinkled brow; he is tall, well dressed, and uncommunicative. Now and then he speaks to me. Despite his look, he is charming to me."
I finally got to visit Dipolog City in Zamboanga del Norte.
A beach in Dapitan
Aside from the lechon and sea foods that I keep hearing about, I was particularly interested to see the area where Jose Rizal was exiled.
A town called Dapitan (now a clean and organized city) is about 45 minutes drive from Dipolog. Over a hundred years ago, this town was a far-flung locality that was almost unaware of the goings-on in Manila. Though the town was devoutly Catholic and subservient to Spanish rule, it coexisted peacefully with the Islamic population of Mindanao.
The Spanish authorities probably thought (or hoped) that Rizal would be beheaded by the Moros because of his inquisitive and lakwatsero(wanderer) nature. Had it happened, we would've had someone else's name or image on millions of streets and monuments in and around the archipelago. Prime Beach Property Approaching Rizal's place of exile is a tree-lined coastal road lined by heavily forested mountains to the east. The coastal drive was constructed around a large cove that had a wide beach and light-gray sand bright enough to allow the crew of Baywatch to film and for Pamela Anderson to bounce on. The water had a gentle surf and looked really inviting. After a mild ascent from the road, we reached a private entrance to a gated compound. It looked like a beach-front estate owned by a tycoon. I got off the van and saw manicured grounds with tall fruit-bearing trees and a smattering of large cabanas strategically built in various areas of the vast estate.
I ask in awe, "Dito siya in-exile?!" The security guard slash tour guide gave me an amused smile and said "opo, dito nga po." Though not a Rizalista, the tour guide knew Rizal as if he was an uncle. He'd probably call him "lolo" if lolo Pepe were still alive.
The compound had a main big house with an improvised swimming pool that collected mineral water from the surrounding mountains. The estate had plumbing which was designed by Rizal himself. He had 2 operating theater huts for ophthalmic surgeries (male and female), several separate large cabanas for his students, a promenade that led to an amphitheater that he designed and built, a viewing deck overlooking the sunset, vast grounds to collect flora, fauna and insects (there's an insect named after him), beautiful gardens to receive and entertain guests.
Rizalistas. Fans club ni Pepe...
His plight was made worse when he found himself a gorgeous girlfriend (of Irish-German descent) that bore him a child (that died after 8 months, so the story goes). He befriended his stern Spanish guard/warden (he was still under arrest in exile). In effect, he had more liberty to walk around, listen to small-town gossip and establish a school for boys. His life became increasingly "difficult" when he became more fluent in the Visayan (dugay na sa Mindanao, maayo man gid!) dialect, and made arrangements for his mother and sisters to visit him and take better care of him. His "worst luck" came when he won thousands (the equivalent of close to a million in those days) in the local lottery. Oh well...
He ought to conduct a motivational seminar called "Looking At the Bright Side 101". The doctor's view from the clinic: Chick magnet!
The beauty of Zamboanga del Norte is almost like a reward for the "filibustero" that was Rizal. It was as if he even had friends in high places that arranged for him to be exiled in a beach resort very near to what we now know as Dakak Beach Club.
That man Pepe Rizal... what a guy!
Pepe's beachfront view
I blame the Primetime soap operas on Philippine TV.
Blame them for what, you ask?
You ever wonder why positive thinking is scarce in this country? Why almost everyone, especially the masa are resigned to their fate of bearing the daily grind and not making enough money to make ends meet? Have you ever took notice of how you felt after watching TV from the 6:30 pm news to the last soap opera before the 11pm late night news?
Did you feel energized after that...o masama ba ang loob mo at hindi mo maintindihan (or do you feel crappy and not comprehend why?)?
I've always believed that we become what we continually experience, witness, or take in. Good for you if you're the garbage-in-garbage-out type of person. After watching Philippine TV at night, you carry in your subconscious the hurtful feelings, betrayal and pessimism these shows portrayed.
To make things worse, the late news follows these shows. Now that's where the comedy comes in....if you find politicians hilarious. Before sign off, religious shows like the 700 Club is shown...probably to absolve us from all the vengeful and murderous negative thinking. Kaya ma-drama ang mga Pinoy (no wonder Pinoys love theatrics).
My niece, cute girl that she is, practices crying in front of the mirror while claiming that her lot in life is miserable because her mom (who loves her dearly), she says, does not care about her and has left her. Her mom, incidentally, is working abroad to help her dad put their kids through school. She provides for her family marvelously. My wife asked her why she feels that way. Without missing a beat, she says she just likes making drama... and she was still in character as if waiting for the director to yell cut.
Kids now are complicated. God help us. I miss the simple optimism of Big Bird and Mr. Snuffleafagus...
This country sure needs its 'feel good' TV...NOW and every night. Please please please...
The best time of my life and just getting better each and every day.
I believe there comes a time when a married man misses some things like people or activities he enjoyed while still enjoying single blessedness. Some miss staying up and out late, downing alcohol like there was no tomorrow, serial dating a bevy of women, and i daresay some miss an ex-girlfriend. There is just a whole new definition of freedom as a bachelor knows it.
While I celebrate the great fortune of being united in matrimony with the greatest woman I know, I also miss some things...
Well... actually...honestly... just one thing really. I miss my TV remote. It's been sequestered. Owned. The favorite channels feature had been changed. It's been taken over by a new master who prefers The Bachelor and Next Top Model over The Man Show and MAD TV.
I did not see this coming. I must take action. I need my toilet humor, slapstick, fear factor, adrenalin rush TV show!
I must admit though that I like the sight of her while she smiles and giggles over the cutie cutie girls swooning over the androgynous-looking (read: queer) bachelor dude. Her belly laugh is just priceless and music to my ears. It can really put me on a relaxed mode. Her enjoyment somehow tells me all is well in the world. I just need to find it in my heart to like Tyra Banks and her hilarious sidekick Benny Ninja.
When she reads this blog. I hope she'll take pity on me and buy me my own 40-inch flat screen TV with 4 channel PIP and sensurround peripherals and all the shebang that goes with it. Right...That's my game plan. Wish me luck.
On Sunday afternoons, I make it a point to avoid, at all costs, hearing the annoying voices of Boy Abunda, Cristy Fermin, and Jobert Sucaldito on their gossip TV show, The BUTT…I mean the BUZZ. My wife will sprint near the TV set and hit MUTE on the remote to make sure I don’t hear those malevolent voices. She’s that sweet. So, I just leave the room and let her watch all the show biz gossip and hilarious haute couture she can take lest i vomit inside my mouth.
I was just surfing the net and looking for funny videos. On YouTube, I watched this 2-year old wonder named Lily who can point the exact location of any country on her big map. This little girl and geography whiz who barely completes sentences and mumble the sounds of words can ACCURATELY pinpoint the exact location of Zimbabwe and other obscure countries you’ve never heard of (or at least I’ve never heard of).
Her mom and dad tells her the name of the country and she points where it is on the map without even hesitating. At one point, the mom asks her where Mexico is, and she promptly corrects her mom by pronouncing it as MEHIKO!
I think she’s on the MIB (Men in Black) watchlist. I have reason to believe she is an extra terrestrial humanoid with superior intelligence. She is amazing!
I bet her milk is melamine-free. My wife and I will find out what brand of milk Lily drinks. I have to drink some too!
Thank God for the internet. I was once again rescued from the tortures of Sunday afternoon Philippine TV.
I’m new to this blogging thing. My wife told me I should start blogging. Blogging. The first time I heard the word I thought it was a funny sound effect from the Cartoon Network. She was nice enough to explain it to me while she suppressed her laughter. Blog…
Now what of it? What should I write, I asked her. Before she could suggest anything, I proudly said: “I’ll write about how I hate Philippine TV personalities who see themselves as God’s gift to social climbers; those top dog social climbers / parasites with a messianic complex and a megalomanic streak!”. She breathed a sigh of exasperation while she stared at me as if I was up to no good.I told her: “I could do that but you worry about me whenever I diss the likes of Boy, Tim, Willy, Cristy, Kris, Jobert et al.” My loving wife feels I might either get cancer or a myocardial infarction from all the angry writing. She’s right… and writing about them won’t change the reality that they have more money than the average Juan dela Cruz. Write about current events? Just as stressful. I’d rather walk my dog.
She finally suggested that I write about positive topics, good news, feel-good stories. I said: “I can do that!” and so I shall.
I hope my wife will like the layout I chose. She loves to travel. I promised her I’d take her to Greece someday soon. She’s my number one fan… and critic.
I’ll just create another anonymous blog account to diss TV personalities whom I dislike…not hate. Hate is too strong a word. None of them deserve that much credit. Hang on, I’ll just check my blood pressure.
Bakit? Why, oh why?
Nope, this is not a dying wish list similar to the Jack Nicholson/Morgan Freeman movie. I haven't gotten to that. Truth is, I want to make sure my own Bucket List will make my wife laugh and not live in fear before that day comes. I promised her that.
Today is the day before All Saint's day. October 31 is the only day of the year when Pinoys pretend to understand Halloween, dress up funny, and extort good candy from hapless neighbors. Well, it's not always just good candy. When my brother went Trick or Treating when he was a kid, he had to carry a heavy and ripe pakwan (watermelon) for 5 blocks. Proof that our neighborhood did not really understand what Halloween was all about. They probably thought we just dressed funny while we cutely harassed people for food.
I just got back from another amusing stroll (after errands) from the Manila Memorial park. Let me share with you some of my observations. My pilosopo (read: smart-ass) nature prodded me to ask questions while I observed.
