“INNOCENTS’ DAY”

[Innocent memories on Dec 29, 2015 11:48pm]

I was supposed to post this yesterday but afraid just the same people might take this as a joke. Well, in case you forgot, folks, yesterday was like the day of April Fool’s, the day fun is poked.

In history, it was known in general to be the innocents’ day as our tradition and our oldies too have remembered. That day was to commemorate the hour when Herod The Great had had all the Jewish ‘innocents’ be slaughtered.

Yesiree, yesterday was for the unforgettable day of ‘innocents,’ the day when unsuspecting mothers never knew their toddlers would die. Like the day we were told “Let’s get enough of the Marcoses, bid them forever goodbye; let’s get enough of a thief, let’s vote for Binay!”

In short, yesterday was the day of mourning and jeering. But not me and my spouse, we were laughing and cheering. Yesterday was the day when, fifteen years ago, she was on her way to work for the Sy business. Then I called her 3210, telling her there was an urgent matter, she’d to drop by at our office. And the rest is history, as goes that old, overused and tattered cliché. Never did she realize she was only stopping by in my workplace to marry.

Travelling intensely but with equal focus as I mixed official business and superficial pleasure, we scoured the streets of the new Metro where, twenty-five years ago, I had my very first adventure. Racing against time because of limited days and with the bulk of our budgeted hour devoured by ubiquitous traffic, we simply resorted to ancient mode of transportation and what else is that but our old reliable and resilient cold feet.

Yesterday, it was so refreshing being alone once more with my one and only wife—so far—to celebrate to some place where I’d been astray once. I said refreshing, because I dated her in some tent refreshment in Divisoria with ‘walang kamatayang’ goto, lumpiang toge, tokwa and gulaman.

But know ye, that this is one of too many simpler things not affordable to the likes of Lucio Tan and Henry Sy. These things are where the joy is to me albeit we know we were flirting with disaster if not “Hepa” or TB.

Yes, it didn’t matter after all, it was our wedding anniversary.  Another year of proof God’s grace and mercy abound to me.

FORGIVING “BUNNY”

[Forgivable memories from Dec 20, 2013 12:56pm]

In view of its endless surprises, life seems like a familiar magic. Just when you think you’ve already seen it, here comes a hat with another rabbit. But she’s not just another rabbit for me. She was, and obviously still is, the lovely “Bunny.”

I couldn’t believe “Bunny” and I would meet in this city again, no, not in this life. Last I heard she was on tour in Europe and the Americas being a European’s wife.

I was surprised when she greeted me first yesterday morning inside a courier service office that was too comforting and so cold, for although she was facing me I didn’t notice her countenance as I was looking at her chest which was glaring with the gold.

Yeah, she was wearing a gold chain necklace with a big pendant I always crave for: the Star of David. And even as we talked I couldn’t help fixing my eyes in that jewel between her twin “assets.”

That’s why until now, although I try also to be fair always, of all the persons I meet in a day accused of theft and robbery, I can’t control my prejudice against the snatchers because in Plaza Libertad “my precious” Star of David then had they taken away.

“Bunny” is one of the few who—until now I don’t know if she deliberately did it or not—nipped my crazy heart in the bud, so to speak. She was once a barely legal law office sec, who, in the bare eyes of a young ignorant worker like me, possesses an Angelina Jolie’s beak.

I could still recall the moment when I called her at her office in a hush-hush and sweet tone, to wait for me at five p.m. as I intended to accompany her on her way home. Her sweeter “okay” answer I recalled the more and, as told, I awaited her at the end of their building’s staircase painted in chrome as I smiled the naughty smile of a gnome.

And you try to imagine what my feeling was when after having been told things like that by a girl you perceived understood your motive, upon reaching your mutually agreed spot you saw her descending in that staircase but locking arms with another guy obviously with everything to give. But to edit what an old TV ad says, you don’t only need a juicy in times like these, even if your ego was pissed off, say “Cheese!”

Thus, I quietly said “Cheese” again as she dragged me outside of that courier office to talk about our present, “raket” and schemes. I obliged because a civil person in me has also learned to forgive people like her, I just don’t forget their names.

As we talked at the sidewalk, it was impossible for other men not to glance at her because although her cap blurred half her face, she still carried herself with a mesmerizing, almost that same old predatory grace.

When I mentioned to her about her pendant, she told me it was given to her by her Swiss-Israeli husband. He wanted her to remember Israel far more than the country where he was born, the Switzerland.

When I asked her if there’s particular phrase she’d connect her thoughts with that country which is the center of events in the future, she said yes, she’s taught by her then five-year-old boy: “If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.” (Psalms 137:5-6).

I was impressed with her heartfelt and fine delivery. With that, I totally forgave and forgot “Bunny’s” sin against me.

TODAY

[Dec 28, 2012 7:09pm memories for today]

Today, some religious fanatics attribute this day to the day of Herod The Great’s great slaughter of infants in Israel, in a desperate move to stop or belie the news about the coming of its King written about and prophesied so well.

Rachel’s inconsolable wailing and weeping are still heard until today. Such was the horror and the horrible magnitude of that post-Christmas tragedy. What would you do if you were one of the shocked parents in that situation? Would you just stand helpless and remain a witness to such barbaric action?

Today, they remember that tragedy. That tragedy happened a little after the Greatest Love Story ever told. Today, I remember a comedy. That comedy happened to become someone’s greatest love story ever recalled.

Today, a lot of people, especially the Catholics, remember this day as the “Innocence Day.” To some people, especially the Joker-holics, regards this day like “April Fool’s Day.”

More than a decade ago today, someone was tied for life when he requested his woman who didn’t gripe, while on her way to her workplace, to drop by at his office, for a simple civil marriage.

And he laughed his way right after he placed that call. Thinking that his “Innocence Day” was completed as his “joke” was delivered in full. But to his horror, just after an hour, he saw an image of a fairy, wearing the uniform of a Promo-Lady, and coming at his direction, with a single purpose obviously.

And he typed his own marriage certificate. And he begged his boss to solemnize before it was too late. 

Of course, there was love, desire and intention to marry in his hearts fullness, but the only thing in question at the time was for married life’s readiness. So, here’s one of life’s lessons in which wisdom I swear abound: Never ever joke around if you don’t want that joke for life would hound.

Truly, some decisions result to emotional tragedy if not confusion, chaos or comedy. But some decision turned to glory, with Caleb, Simond, Rahab and a treasure named Bee-Bee.

Greetings to you, Mi Dulce Adorada. I greet you today with Tsup, Tsup, Mwah, mwah…

I STARTED A JOKE

[Starting memories on December 28, 2011 at 1:56pm]

 I STARTED in high school singing this Bee Gees’ classic song, jamming inside the then cool and cozy residence of a still close buddy Pongpong. Never did I realize that life indeed would truly imitate art, as some stories in the song did copy-paste with it in whole or in part. No one’s to blame for the grime, life itself is a big joke sometimes.

To give variation to that Solomonic legacy, “Irony of ironies, all is irony.”

Life is truly wonderful as it’s faster than a speeding bullet, before your next blink you found yourself already in a rocking chair of regret. That is, if you don’t have the ability to think positive and appreciate things. Look around you, there’s so much to thank for, count your blessings. 

Today, my ex-girlfriend, who’s now my super spouse, and I are celebrating our 11th wedding anniversary in our house. It’s amazing we survived the so-called seven-year-itch plus four, considering the tumultuous years we’ve had experienced before.

How sweet it is to recall our history, when our fruitful union started in a joke only. Why?  She evaded me like a plague if not a fella with leprosy, but she ended up locked up for life when she allowed herself drawn to me. But some jokes became corny after the years of laugh and cry, and some were humorless like a storm that passes by. But it’s nice to find you’d survived after mulling those things over, be they were a raging typhoon or hurricane or a merciless twister.

I guess one of the keys in keeping on keeping on the marriage, is to recall your promise and the times you shared a cake or porridge. Humor is a must in a relationship to stabilize harmony, but never ever joke to your partner to wed him/her on Innocence Day. Otherwise, you’d find yourself forever laughing at your own joke, as you could not fix things when you’re the cause why it’s broke.

Today, here in my rocking chair I still savor the reality that we reached our 11th year together this easy. Looking back, in a diff’rent situation, I realize had I chose an eleven-year jail term over marriage I woulda been a free man today.

Thanks, Babe, I love you so. Wow, look at here, I’m stuck on you.

Single men and women, marriage is something you want to do, not the thing you have to do. Today is December 28, Happy Innocence day, from Aparri to Jolo, from Maine to Mexico…

REFRESHING MEMORIES

A Facebook friend with whom I have occasional messages surprised me one time when she asked me during one of our lighthearted correspondence if I had remembered too that I was once her boyfriend.  “Of course!” was my chuckling reply in my private messenger box, a little bit embarrassed, in fact it was what I remembered when, upon seeing for the first time her name, a friend-request did I reluctantly send.

And as we exchanged giggling messages further, we couldn’t help but remember our past innocent times.  Those were the instances when we were flirting with disaster after we both violated petty house ‘crimes.’  Like, despite limited finances and strict parents, still, we managed to be present in every barrio evening disco.  Sneaking with our hidden clothes that were “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.”

Sometimes it’s good to be refreshed with memories of the youth, for we learn life’s valuable lessons therefrom.  Its recklessness and vanity helped George Bernard Shaw make his conclusion, “Youth is wasted on the young.”

A few weeks ago, I had been reminded once again of my precipitous youth on my way back here to Iloilo from Molino, Cavite, via RORO bus service.  That was my first time in ten years to take RORO, and if you ask me why I did it, just recall what Old Bill told Older Bush, “It’s the economy, stupid!”

Boredom would have struck me to death but great thanks to a young maiden who happened to travel with me along with her kid sister who loved to smile, sleep and think.  I’d only call her “Charm” here for lack of authority to reveal her true name, and also because I was charmed by her stories while gazing at her face so prettier than pink.

There I remembered my youth as I spent all of my time with them to the envy of young male co-passengers since I acted as their companion if not their guardian or father.  I had to watch my words and my conduct they being a stranger, that to people around we would not appear like a predator and a prey so I had to do things decently and in order (I Cor. 14:40).

And I remembered my six-year-old daughter, some few years from now she would grow up like her.  And it is my prayer that God wouldn’t let my young Rahab tread upon the path I took as a teener.

But rather, she may revere Him like a true servant who fears her Master truly, and live a life like what Apostle Paul charged to Timothy:  “Let no man despise thy youth; but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity” (1 Tim. 4:12).

“NAAALALA KA”

[Refreshing memories of December 27, 2011 at 4:10pm]

THIS IS a very nostalgic song from the great TVJ trio who, at the early stage of their career of being zany, were inimitable at imitating then popular artists and their music in the industry.

I grew up listening to their sounds and lyrics while tirelessly followed their TV shows, from the childhood of Eat Bulaga to the teenage years of Iskul Bukol and TODAS until the latter two closed.

Through the years I heard them singing about, among others, the exciting moments of dating through Rico J. Puno’s “Alaala,” in which they talked about “Nu’ng tayo’y mag-sweetheart pa, Nagsasampalan sa luneta, Dahil sa pera…” But one song that has just lately enlightened me was about their “Naaalala Ka.”

For I grew up wondering about marriage the difference between “Sarap” and “Syarap.” 

I found out at last that “Sarap” refers to the union in perfect harmony, while “Syarap” is what you yell with gusto when the other mouth babbles eternally. That right after a year of a wedding kiss, there’d be a kiss a year just to maintain peace.

To know yourself up close and personal, one must get married without really trial. It’s there where you’re gonna find out if you’re growing up or crawling down. For it’d bring out the best in you and reveal the worst character you’d ever show.

Well, it depends on your agenda when you got married. As some married for love, fame and fortune, while some did it for pleasure if not in desperation. 

Happy New Year! Hope for the best, remember your marriage vow:
“Bagong taon ay may bagong bahay, nang lumigaya ang ating bayaw!”

UNBLEMISHED

[But-now-blemished memories from December 17, 2015]

A few days ago, the Law of Average has finally caught up the invincible NBA reigning champ Golden State Warriors. Prior to their recent loss, they’re on a roll, itching to break the Lakers’ 33-straight-wins record by finesse or by force.

They have already shattered the 15 game-unblemished season start held by only two other teams. To tie with the then clearly superior Lakers, all they needed exactly were five more straight wins.  But alas, to the delight or dismay, depending on which side you’re on, of all league enthusiasts, the NBA’s seemingly perfectly assembled playing cast was made imperfect by the Milwaukee Bucks.

Yes, Virginia, that young Milwaukee Bucks that have now earned the distinction as the NBA’s super spoilers. League history shows that it was the same basketball team that also stopped the abovementioned rolling Lakers. Enough to make me holler, “The Bucks stop here!”

It’s truly hard to defy the Law of Average if you’re pure human even if you are the purely amazing Stephen Curry, current player with the best shooting hand. To defy it you must first repeal the said law just exactly like what ex-President Joseph “Erap” Estrada had seriously planned with the Law of Supply and Demand.

Perhaps Erap had wanted to outshine the achievement of the Wright Brothers famous for their ‘gimmicks: that is, when they both “amend” the Law of Gravity and successfully ‘created’ the Law of Aerodynamics.

The Golden State may have broken a lot of records after records in the NBA but with their recent setback with the Bucks it simply shows that everything here on Earth has its end. We may be ‘perfect’ in some other time, most of the time, but we cannot be all of the time, as we are still living in this error-prone world where our life from God we did only lend.

No matter how we try not to, sin will catch up on us because by nature we’re weak, imperfect and born with spiritual infirmities (Rom. 3:23). But the Lord God assured us all with His promise: “My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).

It’s the strength that by sheer faith would make all our infirmities and every sin erased. And turn every repentant sinner’s personal record into becoming perfectly unblemished.

OF ARTS AND ARTISTS

[Artful memories on December 17, 2014]

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning” (James 1:17).

I confess, if not totally carried away, I’m flattered each time I’m called an artist by others. But it gives me creeps first, knowing that being an artist could be a blessing or a curse.

Long, long before I came to completely read the Holy Bible with its amazing story of free salvation and priceless redemption, I’d had already embraced arts and poetry and had loved the world love stories whether or not there were rhyme and reason.

When I first heard the song “Love Story” during my early elementary days and came to know about the fictional love story behind it featuring a Montague and a Capulet, I wondered why they loved that way and the world would like it thus I too dreamed to love like what Romeo did and wished to be loved as well by someone like Juliet.

Never did I realize that love actually is not always similar to what that "hard-luck" young couple had for each other most especially in a marriage life. In the real world, one would offer a poison to a husband or a wife, and the other would gladly drink it after stabbing himself/herself with a knife.

Well, kidding aside, if you review your history about arts and artists especially the sort of those that are extremely popular worldwide, you’ll find that a good number of them or its dominating majority had ungratefully left this cruel but beautiful life through suicide.  Yes, I find it beautiful, regardless of how life would come through, but most people see only an artist’s beauty and life’s real beauty itself the world doesn’t know.  Even my favorite folk singer then, the great Don McLean, has his own regret to Van Gogh:

“But I could've told you, Vincent, this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.”

As far as I know, it seems that almost all fields of arts have their own share of their fine artists who decided to end their lives with their own hands. I’m not just sure if it’s due to unbearable fame or boredom like what happened only this year to one of Hollywood’s talented happy man Robin Williams.

Like the most privileged race and special creatures called the Israelites, artists are peculiar people likewise. It’s so because unlike common individuals or ordinary human beings, they see things beyond the naked eyes.

I think, being an artist becomes a curse if the artist would use and do arts for his own personal glory or for his pride to uplift. If it caused him to forget to acknowledge or give back the honor and praise to the One Who graciously gave him such a gift.

Forgetting that the all-knowing Lord God Almighty is the source of all talents and knowledge in arts and everything best. As He is He Who designed this universe in magnificence, gave each planet its own path to follow, He being the Supreme Artist.

Of course, running away from Him in pursuit of our own happiness could also be called an art as there’s worldly honor to make. But Proverbs 16:5 says that every proud heart in this world is an abomination to the Lord, but, it's still art for art's sake:

The art of making mistake.

MY COUSIN JULIUS

The memories are still fresh, it was only fifteen days after I had turned twenty-two when I first ever set foot in the Metro.  I was fetched from Negros Navigation’s Pier Two by my Aunt Cora who took me under her wings, and home and shelter too.

And that was when I met my male first cousins there whom I admit were all well-endowed when it comes to physicality, particularly Julius who’s merely a year older than me.  I was sure I’d be spending a lot of time with him because of our being in almost the same age level but I was a little bit surprised upon knowing he already had his own family.

At twenty-three, his face was like that of a budding movie star at the time, someone named Robin, and I could not hide my envy each time I’d glance at him.  That envy grew bigger when we’d find a job together as it was always he who would be instantly hired despite my superior credentials and vital document.

When I transferred residence to my mother’s cousin’s newly-built house in Cainta, we seldom saw and heard each other anymore.  More so when he just opted to become a jeepney driver and experimented himself with things our current President would like to kill for.

Last New Year’s Day, I was happy to be able to visit their whole family for their traditional reunion in Molino 1, Cavite.  There, we had our first ever picture together, despite my memorable stay with them previously in Alabang, specifically in L&B.  At the time, Town Center was the only mall therein, from where each time Julius and I would leave I’ll sing in happiness on top of my voice.  There was my first ever Metro Manila mall experience, along with my first ever “karnabal” in Bing Bang, where I dubbed ourselves “Alabang Boys.”

Then, a message did I read here in my account on December 10, saying gone was Julius my cousin, while I was in the middle of personal conflict.  But in spite of it, and my tight previous commitments, let alone the budget, I found a way to start a long, slow, twenty-four-hour journey to his wake.

And I tried recalling those Alabang memories as I beheld anew his still pretty face lying in a coffin in deafening silence.  Yeah, those little memories linger for they were well-spent, refreshed when I remember Julius calling me Insan thence.

Thanks for those wonderful times of joy, Insan, for those genuine love, concern and care.  I’m more joyful to know that you had accepted Christ as your Savior too before you left here.

For I’m gonna see you again beyond the skies, later for forever.

THE LOVE OF JCOR

[Tinkered memories on December 16, 2011 at 4:25pm]

All smiles were the faces yesterday in the 39th Community. Their hearts leapt for joy, thus, every spirit was jolly. They had all the reasons in the world why happy they were so. The love of JCOR was back (!) through his gift with an old trademark “Montaño.”

As much as I love to reveal the identity of JCOR, I need prior permission first from him whom we all adore. I will run out of words to describe him exactly.  It’s because for all his kindness I could write a book already.

The man is beyond compare, so far better than all known superlatives in this world. When he led ‘em for some years, vast pride, honor and glory did he bring in and mold.

He was their supreme leader, not an arrogant boss, a manager nonpareil, every subordinate’s toast.  He led by example, his actions were his words. He never said “I” but “we,” his every transaction aboveboard.  With him at the helm, the Community didn’t stop learning a thing day to day. ‘Twas as if they were working while with pure interest taking up Masters’ Degree.

When, for any other reason, one happened to be absent for just only one day, expect him to lose forever a sizeable portion of his life like he’d gone half-crazy.  JCOR is Monching Magsaysay and Claro M. Recto combined, if Abe Lincoln and Jack Kennedy wouldn’t jive. He dispensed justice judiciously in the community as a chancellor. But with ‘delicadeza,’ reason, common sense and wisdom, without fear or favor. It didn’t matter to him whether you’re the lowly needy, or, as we always fear of to lead, the high and mighty.

For me, his greatest virtue was, is, his eternal kindness to mankind and special heart for the poor and starving. He’s likewise my classic example that we can really give without loving but we can’t love without giving. But since nothing in this planet is a permanent domain, he turned out later as the Community’s loss and became Makati City’s gain.

How I wish I’d be given another chance to be commissioned for another tour of duty under the tutelage of JCOR. For even if assigned in the kitchen, in the lawn yard or laundry there’d be still badge of honor. And I know with him as my lord, it’d always be great to be a servant as money isn’t an issue for me. I will just walk his talk in dealing with the poorest of the poor, serving pro bono, gratis et amore.

Sometimes I ponder over what title I’d address him for the satisfaction of all.  It’s long overdue upon him be bestowed a coveted title, The Most Honorable.

Merry Christmas, JCOR…

FREEDOM

[Tinkered memories from December 15, 2014]

One of the popular and most awaited events in one of the campuses of the so-called Philippines’ premier state university is the initiation rites of one of its accredited fraternities where applicants or neophytes run around the premises in their naked glory. Even the national media is enamored of this academic activity that the leaders of the organization therein take pride in capturing the public imagination, and close-up vision, annually letting everyone be taken for a ride from the visitors, students and faculty.

I first saw this campus fraternal marathon when I happened to enter the school way back in early 1990’s after I accompanied a friend who happened to be a friend of one of the faculty.  Young girls lurking along the way or waiting around openly for those young men in their birthday outfit to pass by were obviously excited as they were expecting bigger things among men’s pride to see.

Another thing I have lately noticed was what had started as just a simple traditional initiation practice becomes now a way for political statement and no more a run for brotherhood and peace. Well, knowing the school which proudly listed both Marcos and Ninoy as among its produce, I wonder no more why it still condones it as she is known too for, good or bad, tolerating different beliefs.

Imagine,—or see,—with due respect to their fraternity, what the gall those kids have to denounce corruption in this country, calling it like immoral and lewd but they run around the whole university without bothering to put anything covering their lower body.  It’s no different from that usual little act, in a case where a pot calling the kettle black.

Last I heard, to be naked in public in intentional display is against the law regarding customs and immorality. But I don’t blame the school because out of it was also one of the best things that ever happened to me. Besides, among those bold young naked groups composed of a consenting neophyte, a few percentages of them are generally considered truly possessing something with pride.

Well, if you would compel me to give further my humble opinion partially or in sum, all I can say is that’s what you get for giving someone or something too much freedom. No, it does not mean that abusing such freedom is all that proud school does, but that she too must agree that like absolute power, absolute freedom corrupts.

Just like some Christians who, because of the truth that the moment they accept Christ as their only Savior, they gain freedom, thus, ”There is therefore now no condemnation to them (Rom.8:1), they would misunderstand and abuse such freedom by keeping in their mind they’re eternally secure so they’re free now likewise to let their carnal personality commit the same mistakes again.

Yes, I full well believe too that once saved, always saved, yet the Bible also has said, “if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new” (2 Cor. 5:17).  Of course, it does not mean that a believing individual could not commit any sin the rest of his life no more, he would, but not deliberately or habitually anymore, in the things he’d say and do.

As he who believes in Jesus Christ is now a totally different creature for he has acquired in his person the fruit of the Spirit hence he becomes totally new.  What would be in him are only “love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law" (Gal. 5:22-23).

FIRST CUT IS THE DEEPEST

[Tinkered memories on  December 12, 2012]

Pardon my loss of better phrase but it all began in love at first sight.  Hey, it was agape love, excuse me, and it simply happened last night.

Nevertheless, I plead guilty to the charge that a big part of that chivalry was due to her charm and captivating beauty.  But the situation likewise called for it, so, surely, even the unsympathetic in you would find it hard to cease from showing sympathy.

I was already sitting pretty, or to be exact, resting handsomely, in the second to the last row of the last-trip bus last night.  Later, I saw a misty-eyed Venusian beauty, on her left shoulder a sleeping child, dragging a black suitcase I swear ‘twas Samsonite.

She stood still after getting in the idling bus and spread around her sight as there were a lot of passengers already at the aisle.  I was hoping in five seconds there would be a few good men to give up their seat for her and her child to make her smile.

However, I noticed that all seats were already occupied by females of all ages. When “Venus” inched her way to our direction I doubted because of my seatmates.  I was sure as heaven no way they would be boy scouts, for they were “positive,” judging from their red mouths.

Therefore, the next thing would be, what do you think really, I’m maybe old with a hurting knee, but I was born in love, in grace and mercy.  So there, behold, a remnant of valiant and courageous ones of the olden days, "cursed" himself as he stood up to give up his seat for the lady.

Who else, but me, and I bit my lower lip as I asked myself if I’d be ready. Knowing that for the next hour or two I would feel like standing at Calvary. With obvious relief in her reddened eyes focusing on the unseen bus floor, she slumped on the seat without acknowledging her knight in rusty armor. I was hurt a bit though not certain if it was due to her ungratefulness, or simply because my feeble knees started now to feel some numbness.  She quickly put on her lap the still sleeping, so cute little lad, and let out her cellphone to text as she occasionally sobbed.

While holding the hand rail and standing right beside her, I pretended to be drowsy and half-closing my eyes.  It was as if I wasn’t looking at whatever she was doing but definitely she was in high definition before my sight. I feasted my eyes on her countenance while she was trying to suppress another cry. I couldn’t believe that on such pretty face, a male heart would let those tears run dry.

That’s one of life’s scenes unbearable to me: Seeing up close and personal a tearful lady. I had almost told her, if she would have her way, I would never mind, just for comfort and nothing else, if she’d like to hug me.

I restrained myself and remained in the same position but my eyes darted off instinctively to her glittering cellphone. Pardon my intrusion but I couldn’t help but read clandestinely the messages she typed thereon: “1st time mo ni gnhimo pero indi ko gd bilog ma2lon dalum2 kg sakit2 gd para sa kon” (This is the first time you did but I can’t swallow in full, for me this is so deep and very painful).

I spent the rest of the time beholding such forty-something ethereal beauty despite the unkempt hair, crumpled cheeks and swollen eyes in melancholy. But the biggest surprise was, when I stopped the bus to get off finally, she held my arm briefly, smiled sadly, and with no actual words, her lips gently formed “thank you” for me.

I smiled back and nodded and walked away so fast. I was almost tempted to ask her, “Am I seeing your last?”

As my eyes followed the bus’ fading back lights, I told myself, if “Venus” could bear it and survive the night, she would surely bear and survive everything the rest of her life. I should know better, I should know best. Ask Old Rod, I’d been there, the first cut is the deepest.

HOME AND BEAUTY

Like home, not all beauty is kept inside.  Sometimes it’s on display open wide.  In the same breath with flesh and human ugliness:  sometimes the world can see it right in the face.

My heart goes out for The Builder.  I feel his struggles, despite his ‘gold and silver.’  Not a few people would compare us to each other, thus during the early years of our lives I found him ‘luckier’ than I.  For he was many times over handsomer, he’s earning much more, and later got an earning much, much more of a wife.

We love him even if such wife of his always loves to brace herself for a fight, as it was very obvious from the start that in her eyes we are all despised.  We tried loving her for his sake, as, other reasons aside, she’s my constant reminder that I should be thankful enough for not having a ‘rich’ wife.

She got an attitude only a masochist mother could love, having the kind of character found in a villain of ‘tele-novela’ about hard drama and tragedy.  Her being a war freak who likes trouble and intrigue confirmed my belief that having a college degree is not a guarantee of a woman’s quality.

With her in mind, I’d say the school is not a breeding ground for character—the home is—as taught by theories, and experiences withal.  And just when I thought my own wife is unreasonable, compared to her, I’ve realized my wife turned out to be the one so implacably logical.

The Builder’s wife shattered the myth that outer beauty is no better when a couple starts living together.  Believe you me, boys, there are times when it appears a home is like a house, the façade should matter.

Yeah, sometimes, we can judge the book by its cover!

THE LIFETIME CONTRACT

[Memories on December 9, 2015 at 6:28pm]

Yesterday, December 08, I was green with envy once again upon learning about Lebron James’ lifetime contract with the giant shoe company Nike, a deal in sports that has yet to be a norm. Nike has gone a long, long way since the first time I saw its Swoosh logo on the sneakers worn by the one and only Billy Ray Bates, the electrifying PBA import who took the country by storm.

Bates wore it in 1983,—the year Ninoy was assassinated—many years ahead of the time the great Michael Jordan did. I almost thought Nike was the reason the Crispa import would slam like a crazy kid while soaring high at top speed.

I can feel that not quite a few are likewise drooling over that lifetime contract since it’s the first of its sort, hence, understandably it boggles the mind of every athlete on Earth’s every cranny and nook. You imagine a senile Lebron James in bed who, in his too advanced age and severe arthritis, would often puke, but that Nike contract would compel him to recite their old motto on TV: “Take a walk.”

Now, does Nike really believe that by that time when everyone and everything would change, the current generation by then of basketball enthusiasts would still believe Lebron James? Nothing lasts a lifetime except life itself and even if one is at one time in his basketball life he would reign supreme, when it comes to facts as the truth sets in, I’m sure he never feigns.

In this world, neither human entity nor human endeavor could truly guarantee a lifetime deal with a human soul. Somewhere along the way as time goes by, things will change and more often they’re beyond anyone’s control.

Take for example those pathetic companies of liars disguising as pre-need/insurance giants like the old braggart CAP Plan, to mention one. Yesterday, CAP proudly declared to the whole nation it was unsinkable like Titanic for it had billions of “guaranteed untouchable deposit” called Equity Fund.

Now, where that blood-sucking company went? Roll your eyeballs, open your eyelids, and look what happened. CAP, like Humpty Dumpty, had a great fall and all the kings’ horses and men couldn’t put it back together again. When I heard about its bankruptcy for the first time then, I remembered the prophecy: “Babylon the great is fallen” (Revelation 18:2).

There’s only One absolute Being that can doubtless give us a lifetime guaranteed contract in the true sense of the word. It’s He Who never tell a lie unlike the fooling CAP of old, as had been shown by His Only Son also known as The Word.

“And I will walk among you, and will be your God, and ye shall be my people” are His words in Leviticus 26:12 guaranteeing. But like all other contracts, a condition He is setting: “If ye walk in my statutes, and keep my commandments, and do them” (v. 2).

THE COMPLETE JOY

I couldn’t believe we could afford a feast the other Sunday, November Twenty-seventh.  Many people thought I had enough personal funds for which, no, I had not, neither any savings. 

It’s an undeniable fact that in the eyes of some other people who consider our family filthy rags, I have nothing.  But that blessed Sunday, the special day of my personal thanksgiving, showed me that I have everything.

All praises be to God.  And to His wonderful love.

For He is the Source of it all, the One Who cause things to happen, to make me astound, for such feast turned out to be the result of collective efforts from amazing individuals around:  chief of them were my beloved wife and her first cousins, To Bert and To Ben with their respective families, and most especially, my one and only sis Ne Yen whose love and care abound.

That Sunday was another manifestation of human life’s genuine joy, another testament of this beautiful world’s real happiness.  That there are so many things invisible to the naked eye yet more valuable many times over than all peso and dollar deposits.

The warmth and affection of loyal kindred the years have separated were once again rekindled and re-gathered for you again to crave.  What a difference fifty years could make, it’s as if only yesterday that you were a bubbly kid.  Now, you are confronted together by the fact that you’re all just a step away from the grave.

And like the great King Solomon, you have proven as well simply that every single thing in this world is vanity (Eccl. 1:2).  That, after all you’ve done and worked for, if they’re apart from God, no way they could truly make you happy.

For only in God that we can smile the smile of a young innocent child, not of an old hypocrite.  For only by remaining in His love that God’s joy may be in us and that our joy may be complete (John 15:9-11 NIV).