CARE TO JOIN ME IN MY COCOON?

     I just want to dig a tunnel and make a hole so deep that I can hide and cocoon myself in it for the following few years.  I feel angry.  I feel frustrated.  I feel confused. 

     However did we get here?

     Frankly, I am wondering if anyone feels like me.  I am torn apart and scattered into pieces.  I told myself before I should not blog about politics because many of my friends are doing so.  It is enough that they can sound out their opinions which most times, I share.  But now I can’t help but speak out against what is happening around me.

     I don’t profess to be holier-than-thou.  I am just as crooked as the man in the next house!  If there are ways to do it easier, faster, cheaper, I will take that way – inconsiderate of whether the end justifies the means.  But, I take issue to the quality of government leaders that I allow to govern me and my family.

     As leaders, I expect them to be worthy of my emulation and respect.  Persons of tested probity and decency – these are the kinds of people I require.  After all, I do need someone to set me an example and set me a-right; someone who will show me that no matter the situation, RIGHT IS ALWAYS MIGHT and TRUTH ALWAYS PREVAILS! 

     Yet, what do I get?

     I get a president who promised in his election campaign that he will rule using “daang matuwid” - a straight or a righteous path.  In the two years he has been in office, he merely busied himself with hounding his perceived enemies with his own convoluted interpretation of the laws; while I read a columnist’s tweet that the country’s economic growth is down to 2% from the previous president’s 8%!

     Not only does this man take it upon himself to humiliate me in front of the international community by fumbling a simple hostage-taking of Chinese tourists, he managed to grin all over the cameras throughout the entire ordeal – my ordeal! 

 

     To further aggravate my shame and annoyance, he sicced upon me a host of bumbling, ill-equipped minions to do his dirty jobs.  So now, I have to endure a daily dose of appearances from the president’s spokesperson, a lawyer playing court jester who imports his legal opinions from Uranus!

     I also get to hide my face in embarrassment over the presidential speechmaker tweeting, for all the public to read, comments insulting to the host country that welcomed them with graciousness.   I have a Vietnamese niece-in-law, you see.    

     My dear effing president provides me a justice secretary whose primary concern in her job is to ride on all sensational issues that may help catapult her to the Senate.  She, of course, often forgets her law books at home thus whatever she pronounces to be legal may just turn out to be illegal.  Ask the dean in her alma mater.  He sounded as though he wanted to erase her from their roster of graduates at one point.  It could prove amusing if you go for dark humor. 

     Then, for entertainment, my president summons up what they call the Impeachment Court; an effort, he claims, towards transparency and accountability in government service. 

     Daily, this man single-handedly strings me along with a disorganized but scripted show of incompetence, stupidity, and dishonesty blatantly and arrogantly displayed in the Senate hall and on national television.  His leading actors are members of the talent agency called the House of Representatives.  Many of them, I think, believe they are auditioning to replace Wally and Jose in Eat Bulaga!   To bump up their act, they decide to conjure up The Little Lady and The Anonymous Messenger!  Their third rate performance often insulted the intelligence of Lady Miriam, my favorite senator, that she normally ends up the day’s trial seething with anger.  It’s a wonder she never had to be carried out in a stretcher!  As for me, I feel so weak with despair and frustration after watching these imbeciles that dinner is most times spoiled. 

     One of these days, they will tell me it was intentional because they are helping me minimize my food expenses.  It could be that one of them overheard me griping over the fact that I could no longer make the ends of my food budget meet.  It has now become a choice of downgrading the types of food my family eats or diminishing the portions I serve them.

     What really pushed me into this hole is when this jaundiced man utilized the services of his ultimate star.  The lady originates from another talent agency, supposedly the primus inter pares when it comes to clean living and unquestionable integrity.  I do not know what the script called for but after her appearance in this bizaare play, she seemed as soiled as the little criminals in the government she proposes to persecute..errrrr… I mean, prosecute.  Although she came on stage with all the necessary props, she did not seem to understand what her presentation was about.  Neither did she own up to what she presented.   Someone on the side commented that you can pick up these props in the garbage can!   Well, she must first set aside her law books and take up Accounting before she would be able to make heads and tails of her own pie chart!  She will learn that you don't get the balance by adding all the amounts.  You get it by deducting the outflow from the inflow.  Actually, her grandchildren can even teach her that because it is simple math!  Then, she can go underground in ignominy!

     With all that have transpired, I decide that this is it!  I have taken enough affront to my sensibilities.  But saying enough is enough just is not enough. 

     Yesterday, I watched the appearance of  the anti-hero and he came across as the best performer in this farce.  He showed sincerity, and, hey, I can identify with his story.  I, too, sent nephews and nieces through school.  Like a common man, cornered and framed for a crime that is not even called a crime under the law, the anti-hero looked to me like the most honorable person to have shown up in this play.  His role may not have been written into this act directed and produced by my ignorant president, but the anti-hero took center stage and poured his heart out for all the grief that the cast and crew caused him the past five months.

     Today, my anti-hero has been put out of action by his own frustrations, disenchantment and emotional pain.  And, I can only pray and look on in desolation. 

     Because, you see, the script calls for his downfall.  The die has long been cast as the director had planned.  The actors had been paid and the show has reached its climax.  They are wrapping up this extravaganza by May 30 with the anti-hero being declared as the ultimate villain.  Then this troupe will move on to create another show, another anti-hero – for their blood-thirsty fans and patrons.  Maybe soon, this country will go back to the days of gladiators and organize daily fight-to-the-death bouts for diversion!

     I am thinking – hey, this is not my president!  No way have I given permission for this buffoon to take over my life and make it miserable.  He does not serve my welfare so how can I claim him as my leader.  No way, no matter my senior moments, will I select someone whose shining 20 plus years of government service is characterized by outstanding and stupendous non-achievement; a record he may proudly declare still unparalleled!   

     Since I am now president-less, I intend to stay in my cocoon for the next three years or so.  I shall keep myself entertained with reruns of my favorite investigative show “Castle” – where law-enforcement is funny and naughty but upright and straightforward, where the lead characters are morally fair and where the truth is never thwarted, not even by badass lawyers! 

     I hope when I emerge, my nightmare would have ended and I will see the same kind of leaders that I see on my favorite show – honest, intelligent, candid, conscientious, honorable, hardworking and visionary! 

     And now, a senior member of the Republic of the Philippines wishes to be excused to go back to digging.  You’re welcome to stay and join me.  Just promise me you will not ask me to hold hands and sing “if we hold on together………” I just might puke!!!

Cheers to the Whole Village!

     In a few winks, the day will come.  Celebrated the world over, this is the specific day for honoring all mothers.  Flowers, chocolates and a trip to one’s favorite restaurant for a family meal are part of the observance.  Mothers with wealthy kids will even receive luxurious and expensive mementos. 

     For those who reside in informal settlements, Mother’s Day may pass unnoticed and unmarked; except if they get to make that occasional stroll through the mall.  Frankly, I believe they may be correct in their pragmatism about the occasion. 

     Surely, in our modern times, it would be most difficult to identify who is a child’s mother exactly.  Is it the biological mom who gave actual birth to the child?  How about those who care for the child, like aunts and grandmothers and even neighbors?  With our complicated lives these days, mothers do have to work to earn extra cash for subsistence.   Many even travel out of the country to find better opportunities.  Most content themselves with finding 8 to 5 jobs that require them to leave their homes very early in the morning and return bone tired by nightfall.  For those who are up to the challenge, night jobs are aplenty with mothers making the sacrifice of bonding with their children only on weekends.  It has now become a luxury for mothers to stay home to watch their children grow.   

     There used to be this saying that “it takes a village to raise a child” and I feel that it is never more true than now.   While mothers leave home to make money, children grow up under the tutelage of relatives, friends and neighbors. 

     In essence, we all become part of the cycle of rearing, aiding, caring for, nurturing, educating, and “mother”ing children while imparting to them the rudiments of life.   We all play mother by our words, and actions.  By our example, we lead them to seek a better or an inferior life. 

     Whatever our titles may be; Mama, Papa, Grandma, Grandpa, Auntie, Uncle, Insan (cousin), Kuya (big brother) or Ate (big sister), let’s all remember that we have all been entrusted with a pliable mind and heart. We are faced with a blank page where any one of us can write beautiful or ugly things and all of us, including the whole “village” will have to live with the results. 

     Let us then all share this little piece below with each other and keep it in our hearts and minds to constantly guide us as we travel with our little ones through life’s roads.

Children Learn What They Live
By Dorothy Law Nolte, Ph.D.

 Copyright © 1972 by Dorothy Law Nolte

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

Cheers to the Whole Village!  Let’s drink to a better generation to come!  

Happy Birthday, Tiny

     Friends find her occasionally obnoxious and more often abrasive; that is because she dares verbalize what others only entertain in their minds.  She is often misunderstood; but, if you were a friend seeking for the truth about yourself, she is the go-to friend.  It seems that one abiding trait she has is that she is a stickler for the truth, the truth and just the truth.  If you, therefore, wish not to hear the ugly facts of life, don’t ask her honest opinion because that is exactly what you will get. 

     Her older siblings think of her as the evil that visited their family.  In a clan of deep-throated females, she stands out as the only one with the high-pitched voice.  A voice she uses to advantage because when she raises it, even her older brother quakes in anticipation of what she may do.   You see, she just does not care what others may think or do.  Often, she had been advised by her mom that should she wish to pursue the profession she is engaged in right now, she would have to develop better people skills. 

     But, how do you develop people skills in someone who has such an impressive history of mayhem to stand on?  For the record, she had been able to make all, yes, ALL, of her classmates in primary school cry.  Oh, except one.  This exception being a real nice one who was and still is all smiles and sunshine at all times.  In fact, she looks back in recollection and speculate on why most of them are still her friends by now.  How did they withstand the pranks she played on them? 

     Then, too, there were the teachers with whom she had been able to get away with everything short of murder.  She had this one homeroom teacher who repeatedly asked that she “bring Mother” so that her antics could be properly reported.  Her mother, however, never found out about it until she was in high school.  She knew her teacher was forgetful so she never told her mother.  Talk about exception to self-incrimination!

     With all these so-called faults, however, she is a very caring and self-sacrificing individual.  She will think nothing of sticking her neck out for those that are near and dear to her.  Despite her meager earnings, she never minded throwing her last peso to whoever might need it more. 

     Her counsels are often beyond her years such that even those that are much older would seek her suggestions on situations that may baffle them.  I guess the older one gets, the more one can appreciate a stickler for facts and truth.

     When she was in pre-school, her older sister was stricken with an expensive, debilitating illness.  Both her parents became too busy with her sister who required hospitalization every month.  Even being youngest, she never dared call attention to her own needs.  She wrote a note to her mother with the message, “Mama, it is ok if you don’t give money.  Water for snack is ok.”  Her school shoes were too worn that one sole was already almost detached.   Her teacher took pity on her and wrote her mother asking for money so she could accompany her student to buy a new pair of school shoes.  That was the only time her mother noticed that her shoes, indeed, were no longer useful so they immediately went shopping for a new pair.  Her mother gently explained that there will always be funds for a little girl’s needs so there was no reason to scrimp on them.

     True to her nature, she never demanded anything for herself.  She simply took on tasks and finished them without even telling anyone that the jobs had been done.  As soon as she gained employment, she endorsed her ATM card to her mother so that the latter could withdraw whatever amounts she may need.  Never caring about money, she is quite happy with little and shares them openly with everyone.  When budget is discussed at home, she would endlessly offer whatever she may have.  Ironically, she is the one who earns the least among her siblings!  

     Frequently, she gets underestimated and undervalued especially by those around her.  It could be because she never applauded herself publicly.  As we say in Tagalog, “hindi marunong magbuhat ng sariling bangko.” (Doesn’t know how to lift one’s own chair.)  Maybe it is because she is more than her weight in gold that she does not need to lift her own chair anymore.   

     Nevertheless, she is one person I will always want to have beside me in a storm.  Low-key, spunky, straightforward, stable, realistic, clear-thinking and creative – she is all these and more.  One moment, she irritates and in another, she fascinates. 

     As she turns the annual page of time today, I pay this tribute to her inner strength of character.    

     I love you, my Tiny.  Happy Birthday!!!

It's More Gay When You're "OUT"!

     I have always been known as the Mother of all Gays!  As a friend used to say, I lead a “gayistic” crowd.  I am “Mother”, “madir”, “maderaka” and “mudra” to all my adopted gay sons.  I have even imbibed the way they speak or “swardspeak” as others would call it.

     Maybe, it is because I had always been nurturing of gays that they instinctively orbited to my circle.  I also claim that I can smell them out a mile away.  This is just a joke but, mind you, I can spot a gay guy when I see one.  No matter how they try to pass themselves off as pure-blooded men or “paminta”, as my effeminate friends laughingly describe them.

     There must be something in my psyche that rebels against societal restrictions.  I never could rationalize why life is made more difficult because homosexuals don’t hew to the accepted norm. 

     In my days, though, homosexuals didn’t make it easier to be accepted as they would defiantly walk around fully and grotesquely made up with glaring red lipstick and high heels.  Somehow, I was thinking that it could be because almost all the open homosexuals at that time were either working in the “perya” ( town plaza fair) which were cheap affairs or were independent manicurists and/or hair stylists. 

     Even under a strict society, I already made some gay acquaintances since I was curious enough to tag along when our household helpers would venture into the “perya”.  But, they remained acquaintances because my mother would put her foot down on the friendship.  She often said “makakati ang kamay ng mga iyan”  (translation:  they’ve got itchy hands) and implied that they were thieves you cannot welcome into your home. 

     It was, therefore, rather strange that as I aged, I found myself surrounded by gay assistants, consultants, and associates.  Could be the industry I was in; or, could be that times were more accepting of them and getting out of the closet became less difficult.  

     Ironically, life is never less difficult for them.  Most gays, if not all, grow up in an environment of resentment and ridicule – especially from members of their own families.  Fathers are known to beat up their sons as soon as they show signs of feminine mannerisms.  Brothers normally treat them unkindly because they are considered a shame to the family.  Many are thrown out of their homes and forever disowned.  Be that as it may, they grow up relatively stable and happy albeit with a big baggage of angst and latent anger.  Outwardly, they are happy because by the time they reach puberty, they have already formed their own circle of gay friends and they learn to watch out for each other.

  

     The most complicated part of a gay life is their romances.  My more mature gay friends have a common mantra when it comes to love.  That is, they are prepared to send their boyfriends through college, to fund their girl chasing, to fund their lavish weddings and when the married boyfriends have children, they are prepared to be godfathers to the kids. 

     My friend, Monette, is a perfect example of such experience.  Because he hooked up with his boyfriend when the latter was only eighteen, Monette felt an obligation to see to the boyfriend’s success in life.  Monette thinks that is the least he could do for having wrecked his boyfriend's life and having the boyfriend branded by friends and relatives as a “bakla” (gay) too. 

     Despite their living in, the boyfriend formed a liaison with a married woman based in a nearby province.  The woman’s husband was in the US at that time.  Unfortunately or fortunately (however you wish to look at it), the girlfriend got pregnant and bore a son while the husband was away.  On one of the husband’s trip home, the girlfriend requested Monette and their common boyfriend to hide the baby at the gay couple’s home in Manila.   What they did not realize was that the husband was already aware of the illicit relationship through reports from his relatives and the reason for his homecoming was to seek an official separation from the wayward wife. 

     When her marriage ended, the girlfriend demanded that Monette’s boyfriend live with her as her new husband.  The boyfriend refused especially because he was, by now, co-managing a successful business with Monette.  With the baby still in the home of Monette, the girlfriend sued the boyfriend for kidnapping.  Apparently, her family had a lot of clout with the court.        

     As Monette told the story, not only did he foot all legal fees but he likewise almost landed in jail.  In one of the hearings, the witness called was the policeman who accompanied the girlfriend to get the baby from Monette’s abode.  When the policeman took the witness stand, he started lying under oath and Monette was so horrified by it that he started rebutting all the policeman’s claims without benefit of legal intervention.  The two, Monette and policeman, got entangled in a loud screaming bout and the judge found them in contempt of court.  To punish both, the judge sent them off and had them locked up in an isolated room – TOGETHER!  In fairness, the policeman simply kept quiet the whole day that they were locked up.  He just smoked that by late afternoon, Monette admonished the policeman, “Ikaw kasi!  Ayan tuloy, pareho na tayong nakulong wala naman tayong kinalaman sa kaso!” (It’s your fault.  Now, we both landed in jail when we have nothing to do with the case!)  The policeman simply started laughing and they both ended up laughing at their own foolishness. 

     I could not stop laughing either at Monette’s narration because he said that, “Imagine, Mama, my boyfriend has not yet been found guilty, I was already in jail! I was readying myself to visit him every day in jail but did not anticipate that I will be the one in it first!”

     Ultimately, the case was settled between Monette’s boyfriend and his married girlfriend.  In fact, the two continued with their relationship and two more boys were borne to them.  Complicated as it was, Monette stayed in this relationship, too, and continued to share his home and business with this boyfriend and his children.

     Sadly, four months after giving birth to the youngest son, the girlfriend died of cancer.  She expressed her last wish that Monette should be the one to bring up her children.

     This was long ago and Monette now boasts of two grown up sons and a teenager; all sons love him like they would an authentic mother.  The kicker is that Monette’s boyfriend got married a few years back and now, Monette has another baby to care for. 

     His situation looks tedious to me but I can assure you – Monette is one happy gay guy who gets to be what most women would like to be.  A queen in his own home with well-adjusted sons to show for it!

     This is exactly the opposite of closet gays who pretend to be real men and who marry just to prove their masculinity or to cover their feminine tendencies.  

     An In-law, for example, got married while no one was still aware of his homosexuality.  In due course, the wife discovered his sexual preference and she simply left him.  She did this, of course, after cleaning out their joint bank accounts and the safety boxes in various banks.   Ha-ha-ha!!!  Eventually, he “out”ed himself and family members found out he was having an affair with his driver. 

     The Hubby had a friend whom many suspect to be gay.  Until now, though, he keeps up the pretenses and tries to come off like he is macho!  He married a very sweet, charming lady who was highly educated.  Throughout the marriage, he made her life so miserable despite the fact that they had three children.  I had this notion that he also physically abused her but The Hubby is one loyal fellow who kept on defending his friend.  I found out for sure from his trusted assistant that I was not wrong.  The assistant had personally seen him slap his wife a few times and that was only in the office.  What transpired in their own home was never known because the wife never said anything.  It may have become quite untenable for her that she finally made arrangements to run away from him.  Before this friend knew what happened, his wife and children were well ensconced in Guam!  And, that was the last he heard of them until his daughter started online communications when she started college.  Not to ask for money, mind you, but simply to say hello.  In the meantime, as proper for the image he had been trying to maintain, he lived-in with a string of women.  The latest paramour bore him a daughter but she had been threatening to leave every now and then and to his face, had accused him of being “bakla” even in front of his employees.  

     I cannot discern what runs through the minds of this kind of men.  They may or may not be able to accept their homosexuality but to share in their distress, they use women to cover it up.  Not only do they continue to hide behind a false public image but they manage to devastate the lives of unwitting women as well as the lives of the children that their unions will produce.   

     I ponder over the big question of whether it is morally better to be openly gay or to hide behind a façade and stay in misery as well as inflict misery on some others.        

     Someone gay told me before that, in time, he intends to marry and start his own family.

     I believe, however, that before he even thinks of marrying, he should be honest in admitting his tendencies in fairness to his intended wife.  After all, there are many marriages between gay guys and women that have remained steadfast with the passing of time.   

     At the end of the day, it is still more gay to be “out” in the open.

Little Guy Chronicles 1

      The electricity goes out.  I immediately call the electric company to report.  As usual, I get a reply that they will send their repair men to our area.

     In front of Little Guy, I say, “Oh no!  We might be suffering the same fate as those in Mindanao now!  This is a bad omen.” 

     His curiosity piqued, Little Guy asks: “Are we in Mindanao, Lala?”

     “No, we are in Luzon.  Cainta is in the province of Rizal and Rizal is in Luzon.”

     Not to be outdone, Little Guy adds, “And Luzon is in the Philippines and the Philippines is in the world and the world is in the solar system and the solar system is in the galaxy and the galaxy is in the sky.  Oh, joke!  The galaxy is in God.” 

     Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. . . . . . is what I have in mind.

*****

 We travel to have our flu shots in the middle of the day and the sun is scorching hot.

     Little Guy complains, “Lala, I am sweating like a pig!”

     “Do pigs sweat?”

     “Yup.  They sweat when they get into the mud.  They have to ba-bath first before going into the mud.  If they do not take a bath before going into the mud, they will sweat.”

     “Ah so!  It’s like humans.  You have to shower first before getting into the swimming pool.” I say. 

     “Lala, you have to shower with SUNBLOCK!”

     He gives me a few minutes of silence to digest this information.

     Finally, he says: “Lala, when you die, I am going to miss your cooking!”

     Now where did this come from?

The Hubby's Best

     We have friends and we have friends.  Not all are loved equally but just the same, we know we can count on most of them when push comes to shove. 

     The Hubby is one person who forms long lasting friendships.  With his simple, low-key personality, The Hubby professes to be a pure-blooded “promdi” (from the province), which is part of his endearing qualities.  He has friends from way back childhood and friends from the time we married.  I have plenty of opinions about his friends and, naturally, some of my views are not positive but he remains steadfast in his loyalty and trust for them.  One friend of his that I truly value is BF because of his unwavering support for our family’s welfare; and, best of all, I just really like him!  

     In respect for his privacy, I shall simply call this friend BF.

     BF is a good-looking, charming fellow.  He graduated from one of the best exclusive colleges in the country, and has a high paying job.  He even has the right family background to boast of; but, remains simple, soft-spoken and humble.   

     With all his good qualities, BF has forever found it difficult to land himself a girlfriend.  Thus, at the ripe old age of fifty-two, BF is now a confirmed old bachelor.  Such a loss to women because I always felt that he would have made a good family man. 

     I remember that when we were younger, The Hubby and I would always be on the look-out for potential dates for BF.  We were manipulating, cajoling and pushing for possible liaisons – all to no avail.  The time came when we were just content to spend time with him on Friday and Saturday nights. 

     The Hubby and his friends had a favorite hangout where they could play billiards and darts and drink till the wee hours of the morning.  This, they normally did and I was only too glad to let The Hubby have his boys’ night-out. 

     Some nights, I would tag along when he and BF planned to go somewhere to listen to music; and most of these excursions turned out more exciting than planned. 

     There was this time when we went to a bar to listen to their band play. 

     The set up inside was theater style, meaning there were several levels for better viewing of the show.  Tables were lined on each level and the next higher level was maybe four to six inches in elevation.  It was not so high, but high enough to make a difference in the view. 

     We chose a table at the highest level so as to see the entire show area.  Drinking and chatting, we observed the goings on in the bar and noticed a group of young people coming up to the level immediately lower to ours.  This group was comprised mostly of pretty ladies with a couple of guys as escorts. 

     When the band started playing, lights were dimmed even darker.  At some point, BF rose to go to the toilet.  He may have been drunk by then because BF forgot that there was this short step downward as he moved forward.  Losing his balance, BF grabbed at the first thing he could get his hands on – the table cloth of the table in front of us.  Drinks spilled, appetizers landed on the floor and the pretty ladies got drenched!

     Profusely apologetic, BF offered to pay for the group’s food and drinks which was readily and sportingly accepted by the group.  When he came back from the restroom, BF embarrassingly apologized to The Hubby and me as well.  We just laughed it off but The Hubby whispered that BF should have grabbed at one of the skirts instead of the tablecloth! 

     To add to the embarrassment of the evening, the bar manager chased after us when we left the place to demand for damages for what he claimed to be broken glasses and wet carpet.  BF was already reaching for his wallet but The Hubby immediately got in front of him and told the manager to file a case at the police precinct because we shall do likewise against their establishment for lack of safety measures for patrons.   Apparently, The Hubby noticed that the bar had no footlights to caution patrons of the difference in elevations of the floor.    Maybe realizing that The Hubby meant it and knew what he was saying, the bar manager backed down and apologized. 

     Another time, we had to go to a disco located on the second floor of a building. My attendance was a must at this fund-raising event so I roped in other friends to make it more enjoyable. 

     The Hubby and another friend went out of town that particular day and rushed home only because we had this event.  The other friend came along and offered to drive because he claimed that The Hubby drove going and coming and must be quite tired by nightfall.   Nearing the area of the event, this other friend started running down the cones at the center of the street and we never became aware of it until the fourth or the fifth bump.  Luckily, no policeman was around (hello, it was dinner time!) 

     We met up with BF and some other friends at the lobby of the building and proceeded to the party.  The guys being non-dancers, just sat around chatting and drinking while I was happily salsa-ing with those who had dancing feet. 

     By night’s end, we all decided to leave together.  As I was going down the steps of the carpeted stairs, I heard bumps from above me.  Once again, BF chose to fall down the stairs and kiss the carpet!  The wonder of it all was how he was always able to get home safely with himself driving!   

     On one of his birthdays, BF had the celebration of a lifetime!  The Hubby threw him a party at the café we managed and invited all the single girls we could summon.  At the point when they sang him the birthday song, the guests requested a toast.  The ladies were all given tequila shots and BF was given “body shots!”  That is, before the ladies took the tequila, they sprinkled salt on whatever body part of BF they chose and licked the salt from there.   Needless to say, BF was tickled pink to be so salivated upon!  Unfortunately for me, I was home with flu then and missed all the fun.

     These days, BF still remains top of my list among Hubby’s friends even though we don’t see each other much.  He moved to the southern part of the metro while we moved to the eastern part.  He and The Hubby keep in touch through Facebook and email.   They constantly text and exchange jokes.  Sometimes, BF would call The Hubby over the cellphone just to say hello.  One good development that I appreciate is that BF has now developed a firm agreement with his “suki” cab driver who brings him home whenever he gets too drunk on his nights out.   Obviously, even old dogs can be taught new tricks. 

"Back in the Days"

     Every time I hear someone say “back in the days”, I make an effort to turn around and see who the speaker is.  That is because most of those who utter this phrase are normally in their forties and, I believe, have no points of reference for making this comment.

     Just the same, I am starting to think about “back in the days” which makes me really seem quite ancient.  For one, though, I get to envy, if not shocked by, the freedom that this current generation enjoys in the way they conduct their usual activities; most especially – the young women.  

     For example, it was taboo in our time to apply lipstick or comb your hair in public.  It’s against etiquette and will raise a lot of eyebrows. 

     Nowadays, it is not unusual in restaurants to see young ladies peering through their compact re-applying lipstick and brushing their hair here, there and everywhere.  Some even make the motion of opening their mouths to check if any food particles are stuck between their teeth.  These maybe everyday occurrences but, for me, I get totally flabbergasted by such behavior! 

     I had, in fact, one such distressful experience when I had to meet a client in Makati very, very early in the morning.  Because our car was “coding” that day, I was constrained to take an FX ride.  Sitting tightly within the confines of the vehicle were all types of young professionals hurrying to work.  At about the corner of EDSA and Ayala Avenue, I was awakened from my light slumber by rustlings around me.  Apparently, the noises were created by all the ladies, AS IN ALL, who were whipping out their compacts, lipsticks, hair brushes, eyeshadows and blushers.  All (again, I mean ALL) of them started to paint their office faces right there!  Whoa!!! What is this?  They were turning the vehicle into one beauty salon and all kinds of smells and scents bombarded my nostrils.  Is this how “ladies” prepare for a hard day at work? 

     “Back in the days,”  we would hie off to the ladies room as soon as we arrived at the workplace and did our make-up (whatever little we needed to wear) and re-combed our hair in the confines and PRIVACY of that room!

     “Back in the days,” too, the ladies room was also where we lit up a ciggie and passed a bit of time chitchatting with officemates. 

     These days, it is not uncommon to see clusters of women smokers hanging around sidewalks while sitting along the cement stairs of their work building.  Some even walk around with cigarette in hand while walking to or from their destinations and also while waiting for a ride.  In our days, you behave like this and you will forever be branded as a “Kanto Girl”.

     Because this generation cut its teeth on the 24/7 culture, it is normal to see even very young ladies walking the streets at all hours of the night.  Some purposefully going places, some obviously just loitering. 

     “Back in the days”, dare do this and you will have the shameful alias of “Kik-ng Gala” (Pus-y on the prowl).

     I’m not trying to knock this current lot of generations X & Y as some marketing strategists would like to brand them.  In fact, there are too many things about them that I admire and respect.

     I marvel at their ability to create a niche for work at home.  Many make money blogging, transcribing documents, and conducting researches.  Some successfully create online market for products that they, themselves, craft.  I’ve even met artists who do personal caricatures and portraits and all transactions are done online.

     “Back in the days,”  we needed to get up at the break of dawn, ate a hurried breakfast, hang on for safety if and when we caught a bus or jeepney ride and reported for work – ON TIME – with bundy clock clicking to prove it!

     There are just too many differences between Now and Back in the Days.  Each generation to its own pleasure and this old, meddling wacko can only watch the world evolve; most times in amusement but occasionally, in horror!