Beer and Gloria

Funny how it looked.

I was watching CNN American Morning just now and the anchor, Canadian John and correspondent Cristy Crawley were talking about the "beer diplomacy" wherein Obama met, over bottles of beer, with the Harvard Prof Gates who got arrested in his own house by a Massachusetts Sergeant.

Then CNN flashed on screen the smiling Gloria Arroyo who's visiting the White House, with the caption "Beer Diplomacy." Ha ha ha. (note: the 8:30 news showed Beer caption).

Later, in the 9 am edition, the photos above were flashed, still a mix up. The photo shows Phil. Pres. Arroyo at a meeting with Pres. Obama and caption says: "What Brings us Together is Strong - Pres. Obama on meeting Prof and Sgt."

I thought Philippine President Arroyo brought President Obama bottles of San Miguel Beer or Obama served Gloria San Mig. Remember the White House has a Filipina chef.

Too bad, Gloria Arroyo's White House trip was drowned out by too much beer.

I'd drink to that. Anyways, I'm wondering which place in Manila serves the best beer and the best coffee, or where the best place to meet friends.

Designs of Life.

Some people have very colorful lives; others' are dull. Still others have rainbows for life, multi-colored one minute, bland next time.

But who chooses the colors of our lives? When we were born, our skin color was either pink, pale brown, or brownish black. Then as we learned to talk and walk, we started to color our surroundings. "That man with black mustache is my father; that woman who wears brown house dress is my mother. That little orange furry thing they say is a cat; that white plastic bottle is my milk. "

As we started to go to school, we began to prefer certain shades. "Mama, I want that blue lunch bag with Kermit the frog design; or Dad, I like the silver bicycle. "

Studies have shown that girls recognize colors more than the boys. That's probably why later in life, the wives would decide on what color of shirt or tie the husband should wear.

From our knowledge of colors, we learn designs. "I like that red and blue stripes or that yellow and brown wavy patterns. I will buy a red jacket with square accents and a black tiger striped t- shirt."

Designs of life. You start to think about it/them when you finish high school and about to enter college or university. What do I want to be? A doctor, lawyer, teacher, nurse, priest, nun, scientist, writer?

In one's life, there could be various designs. A design which was started sometimes do not get to be finished. Or a finished design gets destroyed later in life. But for many, the chosen design has worked well and looked perfect through the years.

If we assume that all of us can make a design of/for our life, then we are all artists. And even those without means to finish or follow through with their designs, they're still still artists; artists dream.

Some individuals change their life designs in their middle ages. That's why there's the phenom known as mid-life crisis. Or in certain cases, due to unforeseen reasons such as death, divorce, separation or other reasons, people are forced to change patterns and colors of their lives.

I wanted some new design and exploration in my life so I thought about getting a tattoo.


Tattoo.
As I was on my way to the tattoo shop this afternoon, I thought about what design I should ask the tattoo man.
It was my first time to get a tattoo, but I've thought about it for a long while. So I did my research.

The tattoo shop I chose is called Lucky 13, and is located in the Annex area in Bloor West, alongside a favorite Japanese sushi restaurant. The Annex is a favorite watering hole of U of T students.

There are open bars and cafes, Thai and Japanese restaurants, Honest Ed’s, the old Bloor cinema and bookstores, health shops, other ethnic restaurants, bake shops and clothing stores in the area.

I chose Lucky 13 because its website boasts of adhering to strict Toronto City health regulations and a new needle per customer. The application I filled out asked about any health issues such as any infection, allergies or heart condition.

I was quite apprehensive when I entered the shop. The tattoo artist on duty showed me the designs posted on the walls. And when he asked which design I wanted, I blurted out , “fish.” I chose the fish because I was born under the zodiac sign Pisces.
So, I waited around ten minutes for the equipment to be readied. I told Leo, the artist, it was my first time and he said, no need to worry.

He shaved part of my lower left arm and pasted the design, leaving an outline on the skin. Leo, then asked, "are you ready?" Then, I felt the first sting.

I’m so used to needles when I get the blood works to monitor my blood sugar and cholesterol levels, but all the time Leo was giving me the tattoo, my head was turned the other way. I would only look at my arm when Leo stopped to wipe it.

I guess the lower arm, just below the mid, has soft tissue, because I could feel the boring of the needles. There were areas, which required deeper piercing.

It was over in thirty minutes. The artist taped over the tattoo and told me to remove the bandage in six hours and wash it with soap and water.

My tattoo is a Pisces sign, colored green. It could be a start of more permanent designs in life - more tattoos, more bravado, etc.

If nothing seems to be happening in life and we don't know what's going on - we must and shall make things happen.

Sorry for Whatever...

I remember it was on an August day years and years ago when Princess Diana died. I remember it distinctly because I got home at almost morning from a dance that day, and saw on TV glimpses of the first photographs of the horrible crash.

When we went to Paris, our tour guide pointed to us the Hotel where Princess Di and Dodi El Fayed stayed and the site of the crash.

Elton John's hunched figure singing Candle in the Wind during the memorial to Diana comes to mind.

Of all Elton John's song, I like Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word. It's a sad song. But it also leaves an opening, a chance for people to examine their selves and feelings. And if there's a questioning, it means there's a working out, a solution. Blues can be wiped out. Then rainbow colors will appear again.

SORRY SEEMS TO BE THE HARDEST WORD
by Elton John

What have I got to do to make you love me
What have I got to do to make you care
What do I do when lightning strikes me
And I wake to find that you're not there

What do I do to make you want me
What have I got to do to be heard
What do I say when it's all over
And sorry seems to be the hardest word

It's sad, so sad
It's a sad, sad situation
And it's getting more and more absurd
It's sad, so sad
Why can't we talk it over
Oh it seems to me
That sorry seems to be the hardest word

What do I do to make you love me
What have I got to do to be heard
What do I do when lightning strikes me
What have I got to do
What have I got to do
When sorry seems to be the hardest word

Murmurs of Rage.

by Gener

ک
One day
At dusk I'd tell my soul
To stop murmuring sounds yet unheard
At dawn,
The following day is but seconds away
But only few can be asked in. 

ک
It is not a secret but a rite

A robed garment of ancient past,

A shadow fierce in delight,

A 'cantation lispy in the mouth,
A soldier's tip toed walk
- at a traitor's back,
A moaned shriek
- out a widow's throat,
A breaker's splash against a rock,
A Goddess' thunder whispered in mock.

 ک
 Love
Anger
Scorn
Defiance
Hate
In full moons, crescents and quarters,
In high and low seas,
In changing seasons,
Past, present, future.

Funeral for Love Letters.

You always hear the words, "man of few words." Now in this politically correct times, it should be "person of few words."

What does it mean? S/He is a man/woman of few words, but s/he usually makes a lot of sense. That's the meaning.

Couple of weeks ago, I was watching a newscast while my back was turned away from the television set, and I heard President Obama speaking. I thought it was one of those old clips from his campaign last year. He sounded like he was delivering a major speech...to a graduating class.

A graduating class? Yes. Obama saw the importance of motivating these young folks so he delivered a long one, full of words.

But unlike Obama, more and more people are keeping their words to themselves. Sometimes, even those people who live by their words - the writers.

Really in today's wired world, words are hard to come by. Take texting, email and instant chat, three commonly used forms of communication. People no longer use complete sentences; acronyms have been invented. Oftentimes, when I read text messages sent to me, I have a hard time deciphering because of the numerous short cuts used.

By their very name, instant messaging, texting and email denote speed and succinctness; so expect the loss of words in their bodies.

I suspect that love letters have also taken a beating. Or simply, people don't write them anymore. And when lovers do write, there's the romantic tongue tied-ness - a literal loss (for) of words.

Why so? I think the scramble for saving time (the impetus for lightning-speed communication technology) has crawled into the very fibers of our beings, that it is no longer in the consciousness to speak out or write about feelings for one's beloved. A few key strokes here and there, a smiley icon, or a good line , press send, and presto, an instant love note.

I cry for those days when it was easier to understand, though long, those letters - love letters or otherwise.

Funeral for love letters. Tsk tsk. Sad.

Loyalty for Loyalty.

Sounds like a boy scout pledge. Actually I got to reading this line in the novel "Dune," when the planetologist Kynes accepted the promise of loyalty from the Duke's son and he gave his own to child-man Paul and his mother, the lovely Lady Jessica: loyalty for loyalty.

When we accept employment from an employer, and sign a contract, there is a pledge of loyalty for loyalty. We give our best work, and in return, the company rewards us with pay. We give our side of the bargain - maximum input, confidentiality, observing and promoting the company mission - in exchange for salaries, bonuses, perks and benefits.

When we join fraternal groupings, like the Rotary, Lion's or fraternities and sororities, we recite an oath or promise to live by the ideals of the group.

When we sign up for social/networking/email groups/blogs such as facebook and yahoo, we are asked to tick an I agree button to signify intention to abide by the Terms of Agreement, in return for use of the site/engine.

When we choose friends, we filter and separate the true from the casual, and with the true friends, we strike a tacit contract of genuineness.

When we acquire citizenship of a country, we pledge our loyalty to serve that country in times of peace and war. And daily at schools, this pledge of allegiance is recited by students and faculty.

When we enter into legal agreements with our financial institutions or advisors, we expect their loyalty in protecting our money. So do with our other business and professional entanglements - with our lawyers, our accountants, our physicians. There is the client-professional confidentiality clause.

When we enter into a relationship, we proclaim to the beloved our undying and exclusive love; give a ring to signify the deep, special feeling.

When we go to church and as we pray, we profess our faith to the religion and to The Lord.

When we marry, we recite a vow to love and cherish the spouse. This is the promise to love no one else but the beloved. The pledge to make the bond permanent and for life.

This is a pledge: this loyalty for loyalty.

Listen to the Good News with Your Heart.

There was a heavy downpour late Saturday afternoon, so instead of attending mass that day, I opted for the Sunday morning mass.

It was Fr. Rudy, the Filipino priest, who celebrated the mass as he always does on Sunday mornings. The Gospel reading was the very familiar "Multiplication of the loaves of bread." Then, Fr. Rudy said , "There was only one person from a multitude, a boy, who offered his food (five loaves of barley bread and two fish) to be shared with the others. But surely there were others who brought food because the people took a long journey."

It made me thought about the last two posts which I blogged before the mass: Pizza and No Waste Allowed Here.

In "Pizza," I mentioned about the summer picnics of Filipino-Canadians I've attended where there were an abundance of food shared; in No Waste Allowed Here, I talked about useless waste of precious time.

Fr. Rudy also reminded the parishioners how people sometimes fear to share their abundance because they are afraid there might not be enough left for them. And how our being in a First world country such as Canada has given us, the Filipino-Canadians in the parish, more opportunities to share.

Further, the priest said, "when you give, the Father will give you back a hundred fold."

Food, sharing and waste. I thought about farmland left uncultivated. Precious natural resouce which could have been irrigated and planted with crops, to be harvested and shared with others.

What a beautiful Gospel reading and a very timely reminder for me.

The heart speaks out and you must listen with your own heart. You must hear the good news I shouted about.

No Waste Allowed Here.

It's early Friday morning and you take a drive thinking the summer morning will be grand. Wrong. As you stop by the corner of a Tim Horton, you see a trash can overflowing with garbage. Empty paper cups, tissue papers, plastic straws, discarded paper bags from some Fast Foods.

The strike is still on, by some twenty four thousand City of Toronto workers, which is affecting garbage pick up, city run day care centres, water and sewer, swimming pools, summer camps, community centres, museums and galleries, island ferry and some libraries.

The condo has resumed normal garbage disposal. But private residences are having problems where to dump their waste. City parks have been turned into temporary dumping sites, but as of last week, residents who lived near parks were up in arms to prevent further dumping where they live. They say it stinks.

When I walk the dog Shadow and he makes a poop, and I scoop it, I feel guilty throwing it in the garbage bin, knowing that others have no place to dump their trash.

And then I remember the old neighbourhood of Mandaluyong where I grew up. Garbage collection then was once a week, but there were times when we had more garbage before the pick up day, so we'd pay some kids to collect them. Little did we know that the kids were throwing the refuse in the nearby Pasig River. Now, I feel guilty that one way or another, we contributed to the pollution of that once beautiful river.

And then the first time I went home to the Philippines after a long absence, I noticed plastic bags hanging by the tree outside my mother's house. When I queried as to what they were, my mother told me that they were garbage awaiting the next day collection and kept hung above so that the street dogs would not open or destroy them. It seemed that they could not leave these garbage in trash bins, because the bins kept missing.

And with regards to Manila's image as a city of trash? Fortunately, it has blurred somewhat because of more interesting news such as the recent bombings in the south.

Another trash story I remember is the time I moved to a basement apartment in Jersey City. A mother and her daughter who lived on the third floor knocked on my door one evening and asked if I took their big plastic garbage bin which they left lying by the curb. Maybe I looked like a foreign thief, but I politely said "no."

I took to not talking to this mother and daughter team from then on. And one evening, another knock at my door and it was the daughter asking me if I could drive them and their possessions to the new apartment they were moving into. Again, I politely said, "no."

Waste has a way to get into people's lives. Some relationships start fresh and clean and turn sour and become a waste. Some start bitter and turn sweet, and the bitter times were a waste. Some start bitter and never go far, and the time spent getting to know each other was a waste.

But what could be a bigger waste than wasting time that could have been spent loving instead of fighting, talking instead of remaining silent, smiling instead of frowning, dancing instead of sulking, reading instead of watching senseless shows, meditating instead of brooding, walking instead of "couching," working instead of idling, turning imaginings into touchables, building a life instead of just dreaming one.

What could be a bigger waste than wasting life cocooning inside yourself and never experiencing love? The cliche "'tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all," is so true. Life is too short, why waste it?

Some relationships begin as chance encounters in the most ordinary or extraordinary places, and end up as permanent partnerships or marriages - this is no waste. This is amazing.

Pizza

Like most Pinoy I know, if I don't eat rice in three days, I feel strange. Let me correct that, if I don't eat any Pinoy food or something similar in three days, I feel incomplete.

Most weekdays, I eat irregular hours and irregular food. Morning toast or bagel with cream cheese or peanut butter, a cup of cold cereal and coffee. Then I sometimes forget lunch or go by a sandwich. Dinner will be rice or something else.

When going on long driving, I make it a point to stop at a Chinese restaurant, and it seems there are Chinese eateries in the farthest nooks of Canada and in even the remotest of US states.

In the small city of Steubenville, Ohio where most of the populace is still white, there are at least
four Chinese restaurants. As far back as 1985, there were two.

Driving to the Outlet Mall in Buffalo, you'd have one Chinese restaurant inside, and an eat-all-you-can buffet outside.

Even in Europe, you cannot miss Chinese restaurants. In one big Paris mall, the Chinese restaurant was full to the brim when we ate.

Chinese cuisine is the closest food to Filipino. Rice, noodles, sweet and sour chicken, stir fry beef and veggies, soup, even their spring rolls.

Yesterday, the household had pizza for lunch. Shadow, the mini pinscher, had a bite of it with crushed white banana as dessert, eaten from my palm.

Pizza Hut is one of the pizza brands I like; I also like Domino's. In the Philippines, I used to eat at Shakey's a lot.

Pizza is one of the foods I haven't tried preparing. Although there are frozen pizza crusts sold at the groceries, I prefer to just buy rather than do it myself. Two weeks ago, I tried my hand in making a quiche - I had a bite, then threw the rest.

But my spaghetti is prepared from scratch. I don't use the can or bottled sauce. And some nieces and nephew who visited one time really liked my recipe.

My sister in Ohio whose married to an American only gets to eat Pinoy food occasionally. So when I visit her, I bring various mixes like "sinigang, palabok, kare kare," and the "kakanins -
polvuron, puto and sometimes, bibingka," and she would praise to high heavens my "sinigang" because she has not had it in a long while.

Years ago, if you go to the Casino Rama in Rama, Ontario, you'd see a Chinese Restaurant on the way. Now, there's a Chinese buffet inside.

Most Pinoy restaurants here in Toronto are the take- out types. In the area where I live, there are two of this kind.

Now that summer is in full blast, picnic or barbecue is the most fun thing to do. And when you go to Filipino picnics, it's like you're eating in your house or a restaurant - table full of "pot luck" dishes - pancit, adobong pusit, barbecue, menudo, white and fried rice, balot, lumpiang shanghai, alimango, even a whole lechon. Plus the dessert - turon, puto, pichi pichi, palitaw, etc.

Then, when you look at the next picnic table, you see an Anglo family, barbecuing no frills hot dog or hamburger with side potato chips and pickles.

Then further down, you see other Asian families, Chinese or Japanese, and the aroma of kimchi, stir fry and tempura will float in the air.

I haven't noticed what the Italians bring at the picnic. I suppose it'd be pizza, Italian sausage and spaghetti.

Mom, I've got news...

Ursula Andres and Peter Sellers in the 1967 movie, Casino Royale.

Called my mother a few hours ago in Manila and she sounded... happy! That's good, because a sister said she was beginning to worry about our Mother.

Good news is always the best news. Just like this morning, I lost Shadow (Spike) at the big soccer field behind a small plaza, ran after him, and luckily, he headed towards the fence instead of the busy Don Mills Road. When I finally caught up with him, he was barking at a squirrel hidden up a tree. The leash was wet and imbedded with dirt and grass but Shadow was allright.

Good news and bad news are almost always interspersed with one another in the cable news channels. Like a game at a casino, news are random.

In a casino, when you bet in the roulette, your chance of winning is always 1 out of 37, or your chance of losing 36 out of 37. When I'm in a casino, after I've checked out the buffet, I usually head for the slot machine, and sometimes an occasional bet at a baccarat; I never bet heavily and set a limit for myself.

It was a different story back in Manila at the heyday of the Casino by the airport. Then, our gang from work stayed till the wee hours of the morning, and left only after winning big or losing everything. Usually, it was losing all. It was one of those phases in one's life; here today, gone tomorrow.

Not anymore. Now, any visit I make to a casino is primarily for watching a show, to participate in an office fundraising, go sight seeing or to attend a special function.

A trip to a casino, whether locally at the Casino Rama or Fallsview, or stateside, at Atlantic or Vegas, is wrapped in anticipation at finding a good number - a good musical or show, a lucky table, a no-smoking slot machine, and of course, to bring home the biggest and the best prize of all. It's everyman's dream - the AMAZING deal. It should come.

First, Manila casino. Then...

Tequila Sunrise, Desperado and Others by the Eagles

Shadow (Spike) is always desperate for sleep.





I've always loved the music of the Eagles. If I just want to relax and forget all the cares in the world, I pop in an Eagles, take a can of beer and close my eyes. Of course, it would be hard not to sway the body, and sometimes can't help but dance.


Take It easy, Witchy Woman, Lyin Eyes, Tequila Sunrise, One of these Nights, Take it to the Limit, Peaceful, Easy Feeling. Hmmm.

DESPERADO
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin fences for so long now
Oh, you're a hard one
I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin you
Can hurt you somehow

Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy
She'll beat you if she's able
You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet

Now it seems to me, some fine things
Have been laid upon your table
But you only want the ones that you can't get

Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin
Your prison is walking through this world all alone

Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine
It's hard to tell the night time from the day
You're loosin all your highs and lows
Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin, but there's a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before its too late

The Spies of the 60's

Image from: http://video48.blogspot.com/

The very first James Bond film, Dr. No, appeared in 1962. Other notable spies and spy films which appeared during the 60's but just on TV include The Man from U.N.C.L.E, Danger Man and I Spy; spies were also parodied in Get Smart.

The Pinoys had its own version of James Bond - called James Bandong. James Bandong was Chiquito, the suave, slender sometimes flamboyant actor who was a jockey in his other life.

Of course, there was also the more popular actor, Dolphy, who starred in numerous parodies of Hollywood films. He starred as James Batman, (James Bond and Batman, combined) in 1966.

The genre of spy films, simply called spy thrillers or spy-fi, has grown tremendously over the last twenty years, and the most recent films which can be classified under this is the Borne Series, of

Matt Damon.

Ordinary mortals also love to engage on spying. So today, we have professional hackers, internet snoop dogs, Mommy looking behind while kids chat on line, and spouses or lovers checking on the beloveds' text messages, emails and instant messages innocently left on computers, laptops, cell phones, and blackberry's.

The snooping could have been taken up just for fun. Computer geeks out to prove they're smart; wives/lovers out to sniff stains left not just on shirt collars. But they could end up as destructive, poisonous games. The geek may graduate on to become a virus-troll, or worse, a criminal stealing financial info. The wife/lover may so get the hang of it that she becomes addicted to the scent coming not just from the perfume in his man's trousers but from a spam or a lucky mail.

Amateur spies fumble a lot. They become easily detected. A recent news item of a thief accidentally leaving his cell phone in the house he just robbed, is an example of a similar foolish act.

Or sometimes the amateur spy leaves traces so s/he can be found out. Reverse psychology at play.

At any rate, both pro and amateur spy, who snoops and formulates assumptions or worst, conclusions, based on incomplete, stolen goods is a danger to the organization and individual s/he vows to serve and love, and for the amateur, also a menace to her/his own self.

I got to reading this old material from the CNN website :http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/wayoflife/08/19/mf.snitches.in.history/

FAMOUS SPIES AND SNITCHES

4. Elia Kazan: Snitch to the stars

The Tale: Between 1945 and 1957, Elia Kazan enjoyed a hot streak few in Hollywood could even dream about. He directed 13 acclaimed motion pictures (including "A Streetcar Named Desire" and "East of Eden") and was nominated for four Best Director awards. Kazan was riding high when Hollywood entered the blackest period in its history (barring the second and third installments of the "Matrix" trilogy): the Communist witch hunts of the 1950s.

The Tattle: A philosophical and politically passionate man, Kazan had been a founding member of the leftist Group Theater in New York and, for a little more than a year, was a member of the Communist Party. In 1934, however, Kazan's ideals began to diverge sharply from those of the Party, and he soon found himself a zealous anti-Communist.

Wanting names, the government pressured Kazan to spill the beans, even threatening to have him blacklisted by major Hollywood studios. After wrestling with the question of whether or not he should sacrifice his career for people whose ideals he disdained, Kazan decided to share his knowledge of Communists in Hollywood with the House Committee on Un-American Activities. In 1952, he went before the Committee and named eight of his Group Theater buddies who had been members of the Communist Party with him.

The Aftermath: After Kazan's testimony, the government was fast on the tails of those he'd named, pressuring them for yet more names, and it was officially witchhuntin' season! Many actors, writers, and directors were blacklisted, and scores of careers were ruined. The era remains one of the least tinselly in Tinseltown history.

Not surprisingly, pretty much everyone not already in the business of rooting out Commies reviled Kazan. His longtime friend and confidant, Arthur Miller, explained his feelings on the matter in his allegorical play "The Crucible." Not to be outdone, Kazan shot back by crafting a sympathetic informer character in his film "On The Waterfront," which Miller rebutted in "A View From The Bridge."

(Jeez, guys, just pick up the phone or something.)

But the controversy surrounding Kazan was yet to abate. In 1999, Kazan was presented with a lifetime achievement award at the Oscars, and more than 500 people showed up to protest. Writer and director Abraham Polonsky, whom 20th Century Fox had fired and blacklisted for his refusal to cooperate with the House Un-American Activities Committee, said of the event, "I'll be watching, hoping someone shoots him." Um, Mr. Polonsky, do you think you could put that in the form of a play?

CORNER OF NOWHERE

Before you turn into the corner of nowhere
Just glance back
- into the recesses you'd leave
Linger a moment your eyes
- into the paper haven't yet read
Touch the tip of the the unforseen photograph
- lying at the edge of your mind
Hold your breath at the murmur
of love I whispered before.

It's easy for you to go
So easy to scratch the stains left on the book
For never was the thought so deep
as I gave
It's easy to wipe clean the mess on the glass door
For you never saw the shadow when it was there.

I took a long look at the hills we should have climbed
Breathed the sea breeze we both could have drank
Lolled at the open space we could have walked together
Touched the grass that could have dirtied your bare foot.

And now as before
My heart bleeds
Everything was but an imagining
At the far end of the sand dunes
Cruel to the eyes.

Precious and Few

True, this is a title of a love song by the Climax. But I go to thinking about it now, because this early morning, while deep in thought about the beloved, I also noted it is the 9th death anniversary of my father. And this song (although meant as a romantic one) captures some of the longings or feelings of regret for things we should have done for the loved one who passed away, a parent, a spouse, a child, a friend.

You see my father died at dawn and I was supposed to see him in the morning. I said the night I arrived in Manila, "I am tired, I will visit him the following day."

This song is a very simple song, the melody so ordinary unlike those classy Charles Mingus jazz, even the lyrics are repetitive, but it still arouses deep emotions in our hearts.

PRECIOUS AND FEW
by Climax

Precious and few are the moments we two can share.
Quiet and blue, like the sky, I'm hung over you.
And if I can't find my way back home, it just wouldn't be fair.
Precious and few are the moments we two can share.

Baby, it's you on my mind, your love is so rare.
Being with you is a feeling I just can't compare.
And if I can't hold you in my arms, it just wouldn't be fair.
Cause' Precious and few are the moments we two can share.

And if I can't find my way back home it just wouldn't be fair
Cause' Precious and few are the moments we two can share.

Precious and few are the moments we two can share.
Quiet and blue, like the sky, I'm hung over you.
And if I can't find my way back home, it just wouldn't be fair.
Cause' Precious and few are the moments we two can share.

Sometimes, expressing our love to a beloved is so difficult. Many things get in the way. Words are hard to come by and can easily be taken in another light. Miscommunication is a major problem in many relationships. If you are thinking I am faltering or living in the past, you're mistaken. Precious and few are the moments we two can share.

Summer Sizzlers - Why is Vegas Hot?

Of course! Because it sits on a desert. It smells of money. Loan sharks are ready to slit throats. Lots of hot babes are waiting for the big bucks. Spectacular shows and boxing events always happen there. Weddings are a 7/24 event. And because it's a honeymoon state. That's why.

Las Vegas has always been a hot spot for local and international tourists. When I visited there, 'stayed at the Treasure Island's. 'Twas dripping August summer hot!

It's not only lovers who have a love affair with Vegas; American films have a long-running love affair with Las Vegas, too. Just look at the number of films shot in a Vegas locale. Some of the films with a Las Vegas theme which I have seen include:

* Viva Las Vegas, with Elvis Presley and Ann Margaret. I saw this one as a kid at the Ideal Theatre with my aunt and uncle.

* Bugsy with Warren Beatty and Annete Bening.

* Leaving Las Vegas with Nicolas Cage

* Ocean's Eleven - original with Frank Sinatra and the newer versions (11, 12 and 13) with Clooney and Pitt

* Vegas Vacation with Chevy Chase, as part of the National Lampoon's vacation of the Griswold family

* Con Air with Nicolas Cage; the last chase scene in which the plane landed on the Vegas strip

* Ms. Congeniality with Sandra Bullock

* Lethal Weapon 4 with Mel Gibson and Danny Glover

* Honey I Blew Up the Kids

* What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas with Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz
Where girl and boy were accidentally booked in the same hotel room, ended up getting married after a night of partying, won $3 million in slot machine, stay married for the money, hated each other, then fell in love with each other. Love and marriage, that's why the girl stayed.

Why is a wedding in Las Vegas eyed with disdain? Maybe because it is a quickie (Electra and Dennis Rodman); maybe because we see Elvis impersonators in their idol's signature sequined overalls crooning in the wedding chapels; and because some couples get hitched in drive-in chapels (they couldn't wait?)

And instead of Elvis Presley or Andy Williams, we hear the Hawaiian guy Don Ho (RIP) whisp'ry singing Hawaiian Wedding Day song.... "I do love you. With all my heart."

Here are some of the songs in the What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas:

Are You Gonna Be Me My Girl- Jet
If You Love Me - Buzz Junkies
Never Let You Go - Smoothie Steven Simon
An Affair To Remember - Harold Adamson, Leo McCarey and Harry Warren
One Love - Ian Dury
Love Is A Many Splendored Thing - Sammy Fain and Paul Webster
Flashdance What A Feeling - Irene Cara, Giorgio Moroder and Keith Forsey
It's Alright - Asa Semple
Save The Best For Last - Vanessa Williams

West Side Story

West Side Story is showing at the the Stratford's Shakespeare Festival in Stratford, Ontario.

"Two rival gangs, the Jets and the Sharks, wage a turf war in the mean streets of New York City. But when Tony, best friend of Jets leader Riff, falls in love with Maria, the sister of Sharks leader Bernardo, simmering tensions escalate toward a shocking finale. With its explosive dance numbers and unforgettable score, this modern-day retelling of Romeo and Juliet changed the face of the American musical. "

With friends visiting, we've scheduled to see the musical in early August, so it came to mind when I was writing this post this morning.

Though West Side Story is a tragedy, love doomed, my own take on love is it's in bloom.

In New Jersey in the late 80's, I used to live in the West Side; now I live in the east side of the city. Describing where you live is very important; it gives others direction when they want to visit you. North America where Canada is, lies in the northern and western hemispheres, while the Philippines lies in the East. West and East.

Rudyard Kipling, the English poet, wrote his Ballad of East and West in 1892 , and it became his most famous work. It also became a popular target for criticizing his overall work.

Here's the opening lines of the poem:
BALLAD OF EAST AND WEST
bY Rudyard Kipling (1865–1936)

OH, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!

The poem or ballad had been labeled "racist." Even while I was in high school, I remember hearing of such an opinion from a teacher. Kipling's biographer Charles Carrington wrote that 'no lines of Kipling's have been more freely quoted, and more often misquoted in exactly the opposite sense which Kipling gave them'

I read a paper about how the public may have misconstrued this particular Kipling's work. Read it here:
http://www.f.waseda.jp/buda/texts/ballad.html

We often hear and read about how famous writers and authors have been misquoted or misinterpreted. But even non-authors and ordinary mortals like myself have been misinterpreted, by others. Perhaps, this is due to the fact, that an ordinary being does not have the mastery of the language he uses, thus, when he writes or speaks, he doesn't put forward his thoughts clearly. Or maybe he's constrained.

It is essential to have clear communication, or to be understood correctly by others in order to avoid disorder.

To me, west and east do meet; seed is a germination of ideas; wind brings travellers to their destination; future is definable; randomness is inevitable; mess is avoidable; love is amazing and eternal. True, there are contradictions here.

Which brings me to a lovely song/poem by Rod Mckuen. I've loved the poetry of McKuen for so long; Others have called him not a poet but a songwriter, others derided him as anti-intellectual, yet others have recognized him as a modern poet. His poems/songs are so easily understood, and that's why people relate to them instantly. Here's a McKuen poem I found from my old book of his: The Sea Around Me...The Hills Above.

MIND MINDER
by Rod McKuen

A butterfly flies up
inside my head,
consuming all my early years
the memory of just yesterday,
other loves and lives
I might have known or knew.

He sits and eats away
within the places I've lived
where he now lives.

Please remember for me
all those things
that need remembering.
Let me use your head
as mine.

I ask that you
attempt to lead me,
to carry me aloft
bend down to scoop me up,
to ferry me across my life
as you would a child
across a too deep river,
You are the end of me,
and my new beginning.

You are my brother
and my wife.
My lover and my son.
My mother and my husband
my teacher
and the one I long to teach.

The Woman
that I dreamed of finding
the friend who never was.

You transcend gender,
eliminate September,
add another month of Sundays
to a calendar well worn.

I will be for you
whatever works,
I will work to make you be,
while you eliminate
the buzzing, ringing sound
that permeates my brain
of late.

Amore. That's Why.

I planned on buying the book Dune by Frank Herbert, but at Cole's it was not available and had to be ordered. So I did the next best thing and borrowed it from the library. It was out of circulation in all Toronto libraries and I finally got a copy yesterday.

So I started reading last night and I'm on the first few pages of it, actually page 11. Not much; yet, I already got introduced to the principal characters, Paul and Jessica.

Love between mother and son already stood out from the few pages I've read; Paul, defending and demanding from the Reverend Mother why she'd been making a serving wench out of her mother, and Jessica, worrying about the "tests" on son Paul.

Love or "amore" in Italian, is a universal emotion and an inescapable fact of life. The cliche, "love makes the world go round," is a law of the universe and existence.

That's why love is the favorite theme and raison d'etre of/for arts, paintings, novels, films, poetry, songs, articles, blogs, gossip, speeches, lectures, research, and millions of businesses (drug companies churning out sex drugs like Viagra, naughty stores and products, dating organizations, singles clubs, etc).

In Dune, it seems that Paul is the Kwisatz Haderach or the chosen one. I sense Jessica's apprehension and excitement at the prospect, yet I could not tell for I am just beginning to explore the novel.

I also sense impending success and happiness for both Paul and Jessica, because although a sci-fi, I feel that "truth," is the quest in Dune and always, truth brings fulfillment and happiness, even if there would be tragedies along the way.

Already, I admire Jessica's resilience and quiet elegance ; she was a pupil of the Reverend Mother and from the looks of it, she was able to withstand the "tests" herself and the rigid training in this Bene Gesserit, a school.

Fear and how to banish it from one's life also was also prominent in the first few pages.

The Kwisatz Haderach, or chosen one, whatever it is, and I will soon find out, must be a saviour.
The Reverend Mother stared at him. "He senses truth! Could he be the one? Could he truly be the one." And then again, "Perhaps you are the Kwisatz Haderach."

The "chosen one" always has a special mission or work and possesses strength of character and resoluteness in getting the work done.

If Paul is the "chosen one," I am sure that he'd do anything to accomplish the goal assigned to him - and I bet you, he has a capacity for great love; without it, the chosen one would give up easily and I don't think this is the case.

Love, that's why.

The Speck and The Spectacular

Do you remember the summers of your youth? When time stood still, when everything was lazy and easy, and you were let free.

My youthful summers in Manila were times of getting up late in the morning, eating eight pieces of big pan de sal with fried rice and pritong isda and taho. Of playing with other kids until dusk, bathing in the first big rain of May, going home to the province for the town fiesta, trekking to Antipolo for the yearly picnic at Hinulugang Taktak and Villa Lolita, or to Tagaytay and much later to Baguio.

It was the time of Santa Cruzan, of neighbourhood parties, of staying up late at night doing nothing but listening to music or going for a drive.

Now, summer has become too sophisticated for kids. Here in Toronto, summer fun is never complete if you did not go to the Ex. The Ex is the Canadian National Exhibition, an institution in the city where people can enjoy rides, amusement games and the final weekend air show. It opens mid-August and closes up on the last long weekend of summer, the Labor Day.

Of course there are newer and mammoth places such as Canada’s Wonderland, Marineland, and Ontario Place. Torontonians even cross the border at Buffalo to go to Cedar Point. These are all spectacular.

In the U.S., Americans refer to a fair as Midway, commonly an American fair such as a county or state fair. Midway is the location where amusement rides, entertainment and fast food booths are concentrated.

The term Midway originated from the World's Columbian Exposition held in Chicago, Illinois in 1893. It was the first world fair with an area dedicated to amusements and separated from the exhibition halls. This distinct area, near the city's Midway Plaisance, included carnival rides - among them the first Ferris wheel, Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West show, and other attractions.

In the years after the Exposition closed, midway came to be used as a common noun to refer to the area for amusements at a county or state fair, circus, festival, or amusement park.

In the Philippines, before the advent of the Amusement Park at the Araneta Center in the 60’s, or the present day entertainment complexes, we Pinoys were happy with what we’ve got – the Pinoy Midway, the Perya.

The word “perya” came from the Spanish word “feria” which is a local festival or fair, usually in honor of a patron saint. So when the Spaniards left, we Pinoys continued with the tradition and fun, improvised a bit and built our own brand of peryas complete with the trappings of a carnival - the cheap, glaring lights, banderitas, blaring pedestrian music, and the ever present rides such as the ferris wheel, the slow worm train ride, the cup and saucer, even the dangerous airplane.

And of course, a perya would not be complete without the Philippine pride of the perya - the "bakla," the original cross dresser and lip sync singer; s/he served as intermission number before and after each draw of the mouse game.

The Perya was usually built at the center of a town or a city, near the church plaza. A night at the perya meant playing a slew of games – bingo, rifle shooting, and the game of the mouse in which a “dagang costa” was let loose and made to choose a particular wooden cube or wooden house marked with a number. If you bet on the house chosen by the mouse, you’d win a prize, usually, glasses and plates, cups and saucers.

Today, the humble perya of my youth is really just a speck in the massive amusement park industry; it is now a failed enterprise. The stellar attractions or the spectacles are the big complexes – those with newer rides, big amusement games, mini shopping areas and fast food joints; these are the ones that thrived and survived in making a living.

The fun perya, although a failed enterprise reminds me of another happy summer event; the time I went with cousins and friends to the famed Minalungao Caves in our hometown of Gen.Tinio, Nueva Ecija.

It was summer, must be in the early 70's and a group of us boarded an army truck from our poblacion and traveled through trails (not even roads yet) of rough stones and creeks. There were limited seats in the truck so most of us were standing…and swaying with each bump and curve.

But the uncomfortable travel was soon forgotten. Because when we got to Minalungao, what we saw was simply stunning – pristine river and spring amidst spectacular rock formations.

We went swimming and promptly entered the dark, cold caves where bats greeted us, guests. The caves were not developed yet during that time so bamboo ladders were made available to make climbing easier within the many and high cave chambers.

There were a few surprises on the way; bats suddenly flying in your face, cold water dripping on your head, stones falling at your side, bamboo ladders getting wobbly while you were mid-flight. But these surprises failed to amuse us.

What captivated and beheld us was the amazing sight – the spectacular rock and limestone formations, ante chambers of flowing draperies of marvelous stones and a magnificent hall adorned with natural chandeliers of stalactites. It was like being inside a cathedral with shooting, open ceiling looking up the sky. It could be a nice place to get married if one has a flair for the cinemathique. It could be great material for a serious writer.

Yes, the only way to fully appreciate Nature's wonder is to experience it without fear.

For more on Minalungao National Park, visit the official Gen. Tinio website at:
http://www.generaltinio.gov.ph/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=9&Itemid=2

Manila is Flooded!

Taken from Philstar - Below, children play on a flooded portion of Roxas Boulevard in Pasay City yesterday after storm ‘Isang’ dumped heavy rains overnight and flooded many parts of Metro Manila. By Manny Marcelo

I saw a picture of a woman sitting on what looked like a piece of plywood as it rode the flooded streets of Manila. Then in another one, children swimming along the flooded Roxas Boulevard.

Typhoon "Isang" dumped enough rain to get Manilenos swimming in their own backyards.

The name Isang only means one thing: this typhoon is the ninth to hit the Philippines. And there should be more since the typhoon season has just begun.

Flood or getting flooded is nothing new to Metro Manila residents and to the entire Philippine folks.

In our old neighbourhood in Mandaluyong, residents anticipated and prepared for yearly floods. In our own household, we kids used an aunt's concrete fence as our yardstick for when to start piling up our furniture and appliances. You see, my aunt's fence had layered designs so we would watch as the waters cascaded from the Pasig River and covered the layers. If the water reached a certain layer, we would shout to our mother, "time to bring up the stove upstairs or the refrigerator to the stairs landing."

Every folk in our Mandaluyong neighbourhood knew when to start buying an extra loaf of bread or an extra can of sardine or pork and beans. We didn't just rely on Paeng Yabut or Johnny "Lundagin Mo Baby" de Leon to tell us when signal number 2 or 3 would hit; we instead, looked at the level of water by the Pasig River. Our own house was a block away from the mighty River and my aunt's house in Sta. Ana backed to the river itself.

Almost every year, water would enter our street, then the houses. Only those houses built on very high ground were able to escape the wrath of the floods. Hagdang Bato is a high ground. It is where another aunt lived and where my father used to bring his car when our street was already flooding. Or car owners would jockey up for a spot along Lambingan Bridge (Sta Ana/Mandaluyong boundary), another high ground.

Bakeries and neighbourhood sari sari stores made good sales during a flood; the Mandaluyong Market would be flooded, too, so shops were closed. People bought everything, candles, batteries, canned goods, bread, Dari Creme, tinapa and tuyo from the sari sari store.

When the first floor of our house got flooded, we lived upstairs. The refrigerator was transferred to the stairs landing, and when the flood got really high, we would use high cabinets to mount our furniture. Luckily, there were only few flooding when the entire kitchen faucet was covered, so we still had drinking water most of the time.

But in some areas of Mandaluyong, it got so worse that residents had to be ferried out in bancas. We would sit by the window and watch as bancas plied people from the area we called "squatters' area."

But flood could be fun for kids. If the level of the water was still low, kids would be out swimming (this was the time when Pasig River was still clean). My mother never allowed us to swim in the flood water but "magtampisaw" or just wade through it. So we watched other kids or else, we passed time watching grown ups flirt with each other while wading in the water.

Although we were limited in our movement and activities, we still enjoyed dinners during a flood. Portola sardines tasted better when there was a flood, so did Libby's Pork and Beans, and tinapa with fresh tomatoes and itlog na pula.

In the late 70's, flooding somewhat abated in our area. Then our family moved to Quezon City, a high area, and we never experienced flood again.

Manila, we feel your pain, but then some people love the rain and storm.

Random Star

I am reading Stephen Hawkings "A Brief History of Time," and so I was inspired to write about the Universe.

RANDOM STAR

by Gener Pagkanlungan

I soar above to find my star

And I was late because the Gods took them out

Of circulation,

And I cried

What injustice,

Yet the Gods have spoken even before

I was born.

I look upward now in the evenings of my life

And there they are once more, the stars numerous,

Glittering amidst the Orion and the Procyon

Tempting the young to dream and imaginings

Again.

Unbeknownst before, the star I envied from afar

As luminous, as vibrant as the Mother Moon in the late month,

Star of the Universe

Has traveled as fast as the Light

And became only familiar with the life of the other Gods.

Random star

Mesmerize me now,

Linger there in the darkness of the sky

Light up the unknown with your wonder and awe,

As I submit to your radiant spectacle

Before you leave or stay.

How about a Canada Wonderland's Lifetime Adventure?

Where else to go for a lasting adventure?

It is Canada's Wonderland, a 330-acre (1.3 km2) theme park located in Vaughan, Ontario, Canada, about 30 kilometres north of downtown Toronto. The park is open seasonally from May to October and contains more than 200 attractions. It opened in 1981 and was Canada's first major theme park.

Newcomers to Canada always check out new places for adventure: Canada Wonderland, Ontario Place, Marineland at Niagara, and the African Lion Safari. But the biggest attraction of summer is Canada Wonderland, of course.

To Ontarians, Canada Wonderland is a lifetime adventure. You start going there as a kid, then as a teen, as an adult, as a parent with kids in tow, as a retiree.

The rides and attractions never cease to amaze. Plus every year there are special summer shows.
Take for instance the Filipino community. Every summer, a Filipino day is held inside Canada Wonderland.

TOP - Camille Mendoza (center) won the Filipino Idol-Battle of the Champions held during Filipino Day held at Canada's Wonderland in Vaughan in 2008.

Canada Wonderland is Canada's answer to Disneyland. It is a miniature Disney, I'd say.

So, if friends, relatives and loved ones are coming and are looking for a lasting adventure, I'd definitely recommend and take them to Canada Wonderland.

Can't wait to experience the thrill and excitement, myself, again!

I Got Drunk and Didn't Know About It.

I finally finished reading the book "Drunkard's Walk - How Randomness Rules Our Lives" by Leonard Mlodinow. I couldn't help but smile upon reaching the last chapter, Drunkard's Walk, really the summary chapter wherein Mlodinow simplified everything; he drew parallels to everyday lives the theories he discussed.

I was smiling because there was this line" " What I've learned, above all, is to keep marching forward because the best news is that since chance does play a role, one important factor in success is under our control: the numbers of at bats, the numbers of chances taken, the number of opportunities seized."

I started this blog on May13, 2008 and my very first post was titled "Batting Average." I was talking about my batting average, the scorecard of success in my career. And I talked about the chances and risks I took with each change in career, with the move from my country of origin to the US and to Canada; the opportunities I seized.

And then when I was thinking of a title, I intuitively called it Lucky Canary, for it was the name of my very first pet - a canary. And the reason I called this bird Lucky was because it was given by a friend, who accidentally found it in her balcony. I felt that he would bring me luck - not in the financial sense, but luck as in giving me joy.

And he did, because in Lucky, I found joy with his fine singing; then, he brought me other canaries, and from then on, I acquired the love for other birds - for budgies and now for a dog - so, essentially the canary taught me how to breed and care for fragile creatures.

I also recall a former colleague who featured me in her column in a Philippine community paper, and wrote "I was lucky." I don't know about that. But I say being lucky is to not let life's "accidents" get in your way. Because somehow, I've been able to survive.

So, from that very first post "Batting Average," I got encouraged to write more and found other blogs to read - randomly. And then a happenstance - a blog stayed on with me.