Time was when in Marcos time, reading on a five centavo coin of its mint year was as bright as summer if not as clear as ice at winter. I missed those glory days of DVBS when we could read hassle-free those small and dancing lyrics of a song on a manila paper, written poorly by a sleepy, exhausted, pressure-cooked, frantically clumsy summer worker.
Gone are the days when even those miserably Xeroxed materials of a choir piece were easily read like original copies. Today, you voluntarily inhibit yourself from joining the choir ‘coz of the blurred notes and lyrics due to evening practice.
I imagine the next scenario in the near future (if we shall be blessed with more blissful years by our Creator). I see us as octogenarians in slow mo inside the church on a Sunday, scrambling for our inch-thick glasses when told to read the Bible responsively. Grappling frantically for our respective canes to rise and sit, while desperately praying too that our respective diapers have yet to wet.
Oh, brethren, a pretty scary scenario that would surely be. Especially when at that age we’re now ready to spread our arms to the heavens and declare: “Here..i…am, Lord, [coughs]… use me…”
(Kapal na natin siguro, p’re…)
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