Pillow Talk

So 1950s. Remember the Doris Day and Rock Hudson movie?

The Pillow Talk I'm referring to is the way we, humans, talk our pillows into putting us to a good sleep. Pillows make a sleep, as in clothes make a man. If not then, why are there so many special pillows in the market today?

In the olden days, pillows were filled with all sorts of things - kapok, feathers, cotton, etc. When we were small and vacationing in our province, we used to sleep on "hard pillows." Parang sangkalan sa tigas. Later on, Dolphy in John N' Marsha would be using either a sangkalan or a kawali as his pillows for the night.

Today, when you go to a department store and check out the Bed and Bath section, you will be amazed at the wide range of the pillows available. There are the average rectangular ones, the ones we're accustomed to using. Then there are the longish, sausage-like pillows which are as long as your entire body. Then, there are those odd-shape and odd-textured pillows: round, bone-like, extra soft, extra hard, the ones with the sunk mid-section, and those with memory - they remember your head and body shape the way you've sunk them in.

If one is married, the spouse becomes a second or third pillow. When you turn to her/his side, you unconciously hug and drape your legs over her/him.

If you are single, your entire bed becomes fortress-like, surrounded by pillows, protected from imaginary night intruders. This reminds me of the way birds go to sleep. With canaries, or budgies, if they are not hatching their eggs, they choose a spot or a perch in the cage which is backing onto either the cage wall or a feeder. This makes them feel safe; no one can come near or attack them from behind.

I myself, sleep with three pillows under my head; this is due to the fact that I have sleep apnea so I feel breathing is easier when my head is propped up. For this purpose, I have one regular thick pillow and two special ones. The second is thick with a sunken middle, and the third is a TV-ordered soft pillow that transforms itself into whatever shape your head sinks it into. Having such a unique trio of a pillow, I find it hard to sleep when I travel since I cannot bring them into the hotel(s).

The market is also flooded with "naughty-looking pillows." These are the ones shaped like the upper torso of a female or male. I believe they've been designed for those with absent spouses or those without partners. By the way, the Urban Dictionary refers to "naughty pillow" as female breasts.

Check this link for photos of unique pillow designs: http://www.toxel.com/inspiration/2009/02/17/unique-pillows-and-creative-pillow-designs/

What makes Philippine heroes?

I was probably in Grade 3 when I first learned about the Philippines' heroes; the subject was Social Studies. And that's many decades ago.

Now, when the word "hero" is mentioned or written about, the image that comes to mind is either the popular television show, Heroes, or today's much-touted Philippine heroes, the OFW, or Overseas Filipino Worker.

When I was new in Canada, a friend mentioned casually that "Canada does not have heroes like the heroes we have in the Philippines." I asked what he meant, and he said, " the Philippine heroes we have, died fighting for a national cause, while here in Canada, there was no war fought locally and thus, no death, no heroes."

Canadians, of course, fought in foreign wars, namely WW I and II, even sent troops to Korea, and now, in Afghanistan, and had produced thousands of heroes - those men and women who lost and risked their lives fighting for the principles of democracy and humanity.

When I read Dr. Jose Rizal's biography, especially his last days in Dapitan and Fort Santiago, I remember crying. I cried because there was this great man who died so young, all because he believed and wrote/propagated his belief that the Philippines and the Filipinos deserved to be equal with its colonizers, Spain and the Spaniards.

On one hand, if Rizal were alive today, and writing and fighting for a cause such as No to cha cha or Save Manila's Streets from Snatchers, he would probably have remained incognito, since his writings would not attract as much following as in the past, given the tremendous amount of exchange of information via the internet. In short, Rizal will probably be an ordinary blogger, not much clout to talk about.

On the other hand, if Katipunan's Andres Bonifacio were alive today, and organizing unions and mass-based protest groups - marching in EDSA and shouting via the YouTube, he would probably be well known well beyond the confines of Balintawak; he may even be asked to guest in Ellen DeGeneres' or Oprah's shows, like what happened to the singer Charice.

Truly, the power of the written word had been overtaken by the power of video. Newspaper sales plummetted; journalists became anchormen in CNN. Here in Toronto, a once popular Daily provides free copies Monday to Friday as long as you subsribe to their weekend edition.

In the Philippines today, two prominent leaders - political heroes - used to be television heroes, working as broadcasters.

Name Game

Ever wondered what it would be like if we humans can give ourselves our own first names?
By this, I mean postponing having a name until such a time when an individual is old enough to choose his/her own. Then our names can reflect who we really are or who we want to be.

It would be so fulfilling to have called yourself Robert or Roberto instead of Marianito, or a Samantha instead of a Simang, or even Alexandra rather than Kwatang (which was our pet name for our youngest sister when she was a toddler).

Rustom Padilla chose the unique name Bebe Gandanghari when he changed his persona to a she. In one article, she said Bebe stands for Binibini (Madame). I suspect that she, instead of the phrase-name Gandanghari (kingly beauty), wanted GandangReyna (queenly poise or beauty). Or it could be that she is Kapampangan and wanted to tell us that Gandanghari is really descriptive of her newfound female-ness, (gandang ari). Or a third conjecture is that she wanted to merge the old and the new personas she's got: Bebe (female gentleness) and Gandanghari (male beauty).

We Pinoys are fond of calling (binyagan) people names. If there were two Marianos in the neighbourhood, we would call one, Nanong Pandak, and the other Nanong Tangkad. Or if a Hilario was limping, we'd call him Hilario Pilayo.

Nene, a most common Pinoy nickname is almost unmanageable. In the street where I grew up, there were at least six girls named Nene. One, a daughter of a Chinese Dad, became known as Neneng Koreana; another one who lived by the riverbank, was called Neneng Ilog; a third one, grew up as Neneng Itay, because her Nanay was named Benita (Itay, for short) ; another one became Neneng Bebay, not because she could do syllabication(baybay) but because her Mom was my Aunt Ginoveva (Bebay). And of course, there's my own sister, called Neneng Goly (Goly from Gloria, the name of our dear mother).

Another naming- incident I can recall was when I was attending the university in Diliman. In our Spanish 11 class, there were two guys named Melchor. Our mean female instructor (Senorita GV) christened one, Melchor Guapo and the other, Melchor Feo. Yes, Melchor Guapo was good-looking allright, but Melchor Feo, was not bad-looking, merely, not as attractive as the Guapo. For one whole semester, Melchor Feo would be blushing. Poor guy could not hide his embarassment!

In the office where I worked last, I dealt with a lot of internationally-trained professionals, and because my name is not an English name, it ended up being mis-pronounced all the time. Filipinos would pronounce it correctly as Hener (Gener) but Canadians and Americans would pronounce it as Jen-ner. This is how it is generally pronounced by colleagues and new acquaintances. Others would pronounce it as Jiner (some French and Turkish) and one boss even called me Gue-ner ( as in Guer-rero or Gershwin), while others called me John.

And because one niece fondly refers to me as " Uncle Generous," I adopted it as my cybername as in mrgener_ous, but most family calls me Gene.

Valentino's

Tonight we will go dancing at the Westway Club. I checked one restaurant which boasted of a Valentines show and dance featuring a Filipino band and lady singer, but I did not like the venue, because the floor was carpeted and therefore, not really good for dancing.

Westway, on the other hand, although there is no live band, but a disc jockey, boasts of a huge, shiny, wooden dance floor. The tables are elevated and the dance floor is a bit sunken which gives it an elegant and classy look. Tonight, being Valentines Day, I suspect the club would be full. The crowd at Westway is a happy, relaxed one, unlike the one at the Harmony Club, the other club which I frequent.

At the Westway, there's enough room to dance a good salsa, cha cha or tango, without having to bump on another pair. At Harmony, it is ordinary to have physical contact with another pair, because the dance floor is somewhat smaller and the crowd, a lot bigger.

Both clubs, though, are favorites among ballroom dancing enthusiasts.

In lovely Manila, dancing fans trek to the Bike's in Pasong Tamo, Makati and the Club Filipino in Greenhills. The last time I was in Manila, I also enjoyed dancing at the Manila Pen, at the Rennaisance where RJ (Jacinto) regularly played, and a club, the name of which escaped my mind, which was located in the Ortigas complex. This unnamed club was small and had a karaoke. Now, I love singing, but not in public places, so I was dismayed when in the middle of good dancing, a group led by someone from a well-known TV family, and whose group was having a birthday party, took center-stage and started karaoke singing.

I was surprised that the Manila clubs intended for dancing were quite small. At the Pen ballroom , which can accomodate at least 500 people, the dance floor itself which was at the foot of the stage, was so small, that people stood by their tables, and danced right there. At the RJ and the Riots' venue, again the dance floor was so tiny, people were dancing and bumping into the elevated stage. The Bike's had two levels for entertainment, the upper floor was for dancing with a live band, and the lower level, reserved for listening to music and dining and drinking. But again, the same problem, the dance floor was small.

The Club Filipino at Greenhills had a decent-size dance floor. There was also live band and a warm platter.

However, in the late '70s and early '80s, I do recall nights out with friends, and dancing till two in the morning, in spacious dance floors in Manila discos. After the tragic fire at the Ozone (?) Club, that's when dance clubs started to get small. I suspect the club owners opted for smaller spaces to make management of customer escape in case of accidents such as fire a lot easier.

Of the five clubs I visited in Manila, I enoyed most the food at Bike's, and the music of RJ at the Rennaisance.

Six more weeks

Today is GroundHog Day. And this morning at Wiarton, Ontario, the groundhog Wiarton Willy saw his shadow, run back to his cage and declared " there'd be another six weeks of winter." There you go.

Tonight just before we had dinner, I went to the balcony and performed the evening ritual for my pet birds. I covered them snugly with three towels on top and two blankets on all sides of their cages, to protect them from the minus two celsius temperature. When I perform this evening winter ritual, I purposely make noise by wrinkling the clear plastic sheet which is the first layer of protection for the birds. I do this to announce to them that it is "bedtime."

The two budgies, Tommy and JLo (which I renamed Ugly Betty) would respond to this crinkly noise by doing the following: Tommy proclaims his protest to the "lights out" by giving out a crispy twitter, which means, " I don't wanna go to bed yet." JLo, err, Ugly Betty, responds by immediately crossing perches or going down, then up, to ultimately settle on her favorite yellow feeder, aka bed.

Tonight it was already 7 pm when I covered them. Usually, I do this before six p.m.

Because I was late, when I wrinkled the plastic sheet, JLo did not steer nor move. So I peeked inside the dark cage, and saw Ugly Betty already enjoying her snooze, tucked under the newspaper, comfortably embedded on the pieces of paper which she patiently shredded for weeks. I just saw her tail protruding.

Tommy on the other hand , was his usual cranky self, immediately "cackling" and only stopped when he was fully covered. Once covered, though, Tommy would remain silent and behaved all through the night, no matter how loud the television is, or how bright the light is at the adjoining dining area. These two would only wake up, no fail, at around 8 am the following morning. This they do, whether it's a weekday or a weekend. I guess, they're like the rooster, who has its own internal alarm clock.

I lost most of my canaries when I returned from Europe last summer. This being so, I do not intend to replace them. For now, I am happy with the two budgies.

And because they've lived with the canaries for a long time, Tommy and Ugly Betty have acquired the female canaries' distinct "sound." Only canary lovers would know this sound. That's why I tell friends that my budgies are bilingual.

Good night Tommy! Goodnight Ugly Betty! Here's to s

ix more weeks of the evening winter ritual.