Scent of a Woman.

Al Pacino is one of Holywoods' most versatile actors.  I've seen some of his best movies such as The Godfather, The Devil's Advocate, Scarface, Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon, Frankie and Johnny, and of course, Scent of a Woman, among others.

I especially like Dog Day Afternoon and Scent of a Woman which won Pacino an Oscar award.

In the Sea of Love, Al Pacino is paired with another great actor, Ellen Barkin.  Both actors, while not really in the mold of screen gods and goddesses, can be thrown any role and they'd deliver a remarkable performance.

The famous tango dance scene in Scent of a Woman.

Scent of a Woman is a tale of a proud retired soldier, Frank, who became blind, lonely and suicidal.  He hired student Charlie Simm (Chris O'Donnell) to accompany him to New York on a weekend, and ended up being saved by the boy from a suicide attempt, and him, saving the boy from being ousted from a prep school. Both came out as survivors and changed men.

The most striking scene in Scent of a Woman is the restaurant scene wherein Al Pacino invited a woman waiting for his date to a dance of tango. Being blind, he asked Charlie the size and shape of the dance floor.

As a blind person, the most acute sense he had was his sense of smell, and this propelled him to dance with passion as he was guided and piqued by the scent of the woman.

As Michael Corleone in the Godfather

We smell all sorts of scents daily. We smell coffee in the morning, the flowers as we work in the yard, or as we take a walk, the newly laundered clothes as we walk past the lines and out of the gate, the engine oil as we tinker the car, or even the dog's breath as we give him water.

Mary of Magdala is famous for her bottle of perfume which she used in washing Jesus' feet.

A lot of times,  our memories are jogged into remembering the past through the smell or odors of things around us. A specific scent may remind us of a special event like our first dance, or a first relationship, a nice vacation or place, our  first apartment or house, where we first worked or where we met our spouse.

Joe and Jane.

We felt old.  Like when folks start addressing us as Sir, or Tito, or Manong.

Last night we were at the San Andres Apostol Parish fundraising concert which featured Bamboo and the Bloomfields.

But we didn't know who Bamboo was. We didn't even know if Bamboo was the name of the lead singer or the name of the band. 

It was our first time to see Bloomfields, too,  and liked what we saw and heard. Their selection was mostly revivals and danceable.  They had tunes from the 50's, 60's, 70's and 80's which radio disk jockeys would call the "oldies."

Bloomfields started off with a hit from the Moonstrucks, a band of the 60's and ended with My Sharona, a hit of the 80's but was recorded in 1979. The group also sang Beatles (Hey Jude) and Elvis Presley songs (House Jail Rock).

Then Bamboo came.  Unfortunately, we didn't know any of their songs which made the youngish among the crowd roared.

But to be forgiven is in order; we'd been away from the local scene for ages. When we left Manila, the airwaves were playing " Wake me up before you go go." Yes, that long ago.

When we came back for a long visit, we found out that the local soap stars are singers, too.  They sing and dance every Sunday at two noontime shows, ASAP and Party Pilipinas.

Then there are rock bands of varying hues. Pepe Smith of the Juan de la Cruz band is still around.

Ever durable Pepe Smith of the Juan de la Cruz Band

Then there are foreign acts that dominate the Manila hotel and casino entertainment venues.  Jennifer Lopez just finished her performance last November and Elton John performed at the Araneta last Dec. 8th.

No wonder local acts are howling foul. They're losing the audience and the business.

Fortunately, more and more local acts are discovering gold mine by bringing their show overseas, in cities in Canada, USA, Australia, in Milan and Abu Dhabi, where thousands of OFWs can afford to buy the tickets which are usually pegged from $45 to $90.

In Toronto couple of years ago, we paid $90 to see Lani Misalucha, and $45 for Side A band.

Last night was proof that oldies and newbies can be gathered in one concert after all.

We remember seeing the show Jersey Boys in Toronto a couple of years ago; the jukebox show re-introduced to the young the music of the highly successful 60's rock n' roll band, The Four Seasons.

Songs of yesterday can kick the youth back into our lives. And the new tunes can add a kick into our dance steps like what gangnam did.

Being called just Joe and for females, Jane, without those unnecessary tags, can give us back our real age.

Unfriend friend.

Social networkers amass friends on networking sites to show off to friends the numbers. A lot of times people just point and click without really thinking if someone is worth befriending.

To find and make someone a friend is easy because of the global reach of the social sites.

Getting a friend and kicking out a friend are easy does it.

But what do you do when a friend starts shouting vitriolic attacks against you, posting, as if in blind items usually done by showbiz columnists?

One, you can also deliver punches and blows on line.  Two, you can keep silent. Three, you can send and then exchange private message. Four and if the attacks get worse, you can bring the person to court. 

Friends who prowl and attack on line are cyber bullies. Friends who choose to send private messages to point out issues are prim and proper cyber netizens.

People who get hurt because you didn't buy into their financial woes, or those who dip into existing trivial spats, or those who harass out of ignorance, envy, spite, malice, and pure evilness do not deserve your attention and time, anyway. Unfriending these viles is your best and sane option.

Like Count Dracula, cyber bullies will suck you dry.

Pasko Na Naman.

The morning breeze is cooler; the night is longer. The lights are dizzylingly dancing by the windows.

It's December again. 

Yesterday was the feast day of San Andres de Apostol, and the birthday of a Philippine national hero, Andres Bonifacio.

Saint Andrew was the first to be called upon by Jesus to be his apostle; he was the brother of Saint Peter.

Andres Bonifacio was a poor bookkeeper who turned revolutionary and led the the Philippine Katipunan to rise up against the Spaniards who ruled the Philippines for over 300 years.

It's December and Christmas is here once more.

At the gas station the other day, an attendant reminded me that I no longer needed a receipt to purchase those cool sports car toys, obviously popular gifts for kids; at the church courtyard last night, Christmas wrappers were selling like hotcakes.

It's been highlighted in the news lately that the Philippine economy grew by an unprecented 7 percent.  Expect shoppers and spenders to rush to the malls and restaurants.

It should be a Merry Christmas for all.

My Life in a Bus.

When I was commuting to U. P. Diliman (the Philippine state university) many years ago, I'd take the jeepney (U.S.-converted military jeep) from Mandaluyong (a city in Metro Manila) to Quiapo of the famed Black Nazarene and then transfer to a bus which went straight inside the state university.

There were two bus companies that plied the Quiapo - Diliman route: the JD Bus and the MD.

JD was a bit smaller and was colored pink and MD was bigger and was off white.

The JD conductress wore a crisp, (pwedeng tumayo dahil sa almirol) pink uniform, and MD employed male conductors who wore grey shirt and pants.

Those bus trips took about less than hour. Once the bus went under the Quaipo underpass and up onwards to Espana, you'd be in the Welcome Rotonda in less than ten minutes, and then on to Quezon Boulevard, on to the Delta Circle, and right onto the Eliptical Road.

Elliptical Road/Rotonda was a huge expanse of green grass and the the Quezon City Hall was an imposing structure.  The U.P. Teacher's Village was a landmark, and when the bus turned right at the corner of Philcoa to the road leading the University, it was a wide, uncluttered lane.

Elliptical Road of yesteryear.

Then you saw the U.P. Oblation and this freshman's heart was aflutter - tense on the very first semester.

Luckily, U.P. had the block system in force then, so we freshmen  had the same classmates in all our classes, English 11, Math 11, Humanities 11, Spanish 11, etc.  We only had classes leading to our major or specialization on our second/third years.

The buses plying Manila and towns off Manila were not air conditioned; the first air con bus came after Martial Law had been imposed, and it was called the Love Bus.

The Manila Love Bus, first rolled down Manila streets a few years after Martial Law had been declared

So JD and MD had their windows wide open. I remember JD had those lawanit-type, pull down windows. I actually preferred the MD bus because it was bigger and had wider alleys so when there were no more seats available and you had to stand up, it was more comfortable.

Pickpockets were rare then, so passengers were more relaxed.

When our family car was not available and we had to go home to our home province, our family took either the Bautista Liner or the Baliwag Transit. The Bautista Liner ceased operation many years ago, but the Baliwag Transit is still robustly transferring commuters to many points in Central and Northern Luzon today.

Those Baliwag trips, though rare, were memorable.  We usually clustered at the back of the bus, being a large family of ten, and one relative was a conductor, so he'd arrange for our seats in advance

Once, we went to Baguio and took the air conditioned Pantranco Bus at its terminal in Quezon City. I was with my aunt and two sisters and we had the late comedienne Dely Atay Atayan as co-passenger.

And right after Martial Law was declared, we travelled up Philippine north on a Pantranco bus, too, and had soldiers stopping the trip and inspecting the bus and passengers more than once. It was a scary ride.

In Jersey city, bus was my main means of transportation when I worked in Manhattan. I would wait at the corner of West side for the bus going to Journal Square where I transferred to the Path Train for the last stop at the World Trade.

When I moved to Sayreville, New Jersey, I had a daily bus commute from Jersey to 47th street, and then I'd walked up to 57th.

In Toronto, I rarely take the bus, but when I do it is the  Metro wherein you paid one fare and included a transfer, either to the subway or another connecting bus ride.

Toronto Transit Bus bound for Warden in Scarborough

Metro Toronto offers special discounted rates to students and you can purchase  a monthly pass or a weekly pass which give more savings than daily tokens.

On a trip to the west coast recently, we took the Greyhound bus from Las Vegas to L.A., all five hours of it and stopped to eat at a Mexican resto featuring Filipino pancit and adobo. 

Greyhound Bust stop at Barrow, CA

Of course vacations packages always included bus or coach tours.

Today Metro Manila has over one hundred bus liners jockeying up for thousands of Metro Manila passengers. Add to these those provincial buses and you'd get a nightmarish traffic situation, especially on holidays.

Holiday commuters at a Manila bus terminal

During my youth, a cousin of mine who'd be going home to Nueva Ecija would wait in Balintawak for a Baliwag bus coming from the North, boarded it and travelled up to the terminal in Grace Park where his family was waiting for the trip back North. 

Cubao has the most number of terminals, there's the Baliwag, Victory, and numerous others with provincial routes.  Dangwa, a transport institution, still operates at its Laon Laan terminal and also known for its flower merchants, who peddle flowers from Baguio.

Flower shop at the Dangwa Terminal in Sampaloc

There was a bus liner that travelled to southern provinces and had a terminal in Pasay, called BLTBCo.  (Batangas Laguna Tayabas Bus Co.) wherein I took a bus going to Taal one time. It was the oldest bus company in the Philippines, having been founded in 1918 right after the first world war.  It is now merged with another bus company.

At Commonwealth Avenue, the prevailing speed limit is 60 km/h. It was imposed because of many road accidents mainly caused by over speeding buses.

The Magic is Off.

A lot of the things that gave us the "oohs and the aahs" when we were kids are gone today.

The "perya," or the local fairway as we know it in the Philippines has long been gone.  No more "karera ng daga," - that little white mouse - that went in and out of numbered cubes and made you win.

No more swimming at the Manila Bay in Paranaque, no more "karetela" (horse drawn carriage) rides, no more twenty-centavo fare to U.P. Diliman, no more peso and twenty cent-cinemas.

The childhood is gone and so is the magic.

As adults we anticipate excitement at every turn.  We look forward to surprises from our spouses and children.  We cling to our seats as the plane taxies in the runway of an international airport for our holiday.  We salivate over high tech accessories and fast cars.

But the magic of adulthood can be gone, too, in an instant. 

That prized golf clubs will be put away when arthritis sets in.  The vacation may become too exhausting as emphysema takes hold, or the fancy restaurants may no longer appeal as hypertension and diabetes conquer the body.

But magic can stay forever if we continue to re-create it in our lives. Cliche but true.

We can always put a smile into our hearts and faces as we awake each day.  We can feel the magic of His creation as we look into the sky and the moon at night. 

We can experience magic as we give love to our beloved ones.

To some people, there's magic as they write.  To some, the magic is in singing praises to the Lord.  To others, magic happens when the children grow up as decent human beings.  And still to others, magic can be in the form of wonderful relationships and friendships.

Hocus pocus is no magic. It's a trick. it's like false friendships, or scams, or dubious businesses, dirty politics or self-righteous people.

Tablea for Two.

After finishing some business activities yesterday, we hied off to Global City to check on some merchandise.

As we passed the Metro Supermarket at the lower level, we noticed a food stand selling "hot chocolate."  Earlier in the day, we missed the breakfast fare at ADB which always included hot cocoa.

So at Metro, we couldn't contain our longing for the hot chocolate and immediately bought a cup. Lo and behold, it tasted "watery."

And there I was pining for the "Pinoy tsokolate."

When we were growing up, our Mum and Aunt served piping hot "tsokolate" on New Year's eve and day. Walang palya, (no miss). Mum had the wooden "batidor," which she used to stir the pot of chocolate. And she served the hot drink with grounded peanuts in fancy and tiny cups and saucers.

Wooden stirrers or "batidor"

Tsokolateng Pinoy, tablea purchased at the recent Trade

 Fair in Megamall.

Batangas has the best cacao in the Philippines. In college, we used to ask our Batanguena friend to bring back cacao whenever she went home to the province.

While the first cacao plantations were established in Batangas, Davao ranks today as the number one producer of cacao in the Philippines.

Last Saturday, Toyz bought "tablea" at the Trade Fair at the Megamall.  It was from the Visayan region. Ordinarily, Toyz  stocks up on the Antonio de Fuego tablea, which we even use in cooking champorado. A niece from San Jose, California always asks her Mum for the cacao tablea as pasalubong.


So early morning I placed two tableas bought at the Trade Fair in a pot and presto, tsokolateng Pinoy, an early traditional Filipino Yuletide drink.

Yummy. Masarap.

Tsokolate with hot pan de sal.

 

Another Canadian visits P.I.

News item from Philippine Inquirer, dated Nov. 11, 2012 @ www.inquirer.net

"Visiting Canadian Prime Minister Stephen Harper sees the Philippines as “an emerging Asian tiger,” agreeing with the bullish outlook on the country of political and business leaders from many other parts of the world.

To demonstrate Canada’s confidence in the Philippine economy, Harper pledged to increase Canadian investment in the country during his meeting with President Aquino in Malacañang on Saturday.

Bilateral trade between Canada and the Philippines amounts to US$1.5 billion.
Mr. Aquino and Harper agreed to cooperate on defense and trade, and committed to people-to-people exchanges between the Philippines and Canada."

Pitong Gatang.

I'm not talking about seven scoops of rice but the song popularized by Fred Panopio in the early 60's.

The song Pitong Gatang humorously speaks of neighbourhood tales, those spun and told among tambays or buddies while having rounds of beer or hard liquor.

The song is dear to my heart because the neighbourhood where I grew up was nicknamed Pitong Gatang by the grown up men.  It was a small enclave which sat around my Aunt's property, and also called Blue Water because of its proximity to the Pasig River.

Those where the days when there was no drug (shabu) problem, no home invasion, tricycles were unknown, when jeepney plying the Punta-Quiapo route cost 20 centavos and jeepneys were only 8-seaters, and when the first heinous crime - the RCA robbery and axe murder- took place (in 1963).
The crime was later made into a movie by the movie outfit, Dalisay Pictures.

Cousin Gil loves to sing this song in his gigs and at home parties, and happily annoys his female sisters and cousins as he reverts to this song over and over. And my late uncle, Tio Peping, used to sing it during drinking sprees.

Pitong Gatang evokes the simpleness of Filipino life back then, its simple woes and camaraderie among magkakapitbahay (neighbours).

PITONG GATANG
by Fred Panopio

Dito sa Pitong Gatang, sa tabi ng Umbuyan
May mga kasaysayan akong nalalaman
Ito ay hindi tsismis, napag-uusapan lang
Yo de le hi ho, walang labis , walang kulang

May isang munting tindahan sa bukana ng Umbuyan
At sa kanto ng kalye Pitong Gatang
Dito ay nag-uumpukan ang ilang pilyong istambay
Na walang hanapbuhay kundi ganyan

Ito ay hindi tsismis, napag-uusapan lang
Yo de le hi ho, walang labis , walang kulang

Ngunit bakit mayroong tao na katulad kong usyoso
At sa buhay ng kapwa'y usisero
Kung pikon ang iyong ugali at hindi pasensiyoso
Malamang oras-oras basag-ulo

Ito ay hindi tsismis, napag-uusapan lang
Yo de le hi ho, walang labis , walang kulang

(2x)
Yodelehihoo...

Imposible ang maglihim, kung ikaw ay mayroong secret
Sa Pitong Gatang lahat naririnig
At kung ibig mong mabuhay nang tahimik na tahimik
Mag-patay-patayan ka bawat saglit

Ito ay hindi tsismis, napag-uusapan lang
Yo de le hi ho, walang labis , walang kulang


Itong aking inaawit, ang tamaa'y huwag magalit
Ito naman ay bunga lang n'yaring isip
Ang Pitong Gatang kailanman ay di ko maiwawaglit
Tagarito ang aking iniibig

Yodelehihoo...
Yodelehi, yodelehi, oh ho yodelehihi
 Oh ho yodelehihi

Watch Fred Panopio video here.

Heaven can wait.

Did you say you want to have the riches to buy what you want? To travel to Europe and Russia? To have the cosmetic surgery that'd bring back your spouse or get a new lover?

We all have different heavens we aim for.

For the rich, sky is the limit. For the poor, the sky is as high as the dormitory ceiling in Sampaloc or the apartment in Bronx in New York. 

Aiming for the moon used to be a good ambition; now aiming for the universe is more like it.

The young are told in very early years to shape up, get a degree, be the best you can be, be like the Donald (Trump), Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, Jack Dorsey and other billionaires who started young.

For the poor, just getting out of the slum or ghetto is good enough.

In developing countries, getting three square meals a day is heaven already.

In countries plagued by tribal or religious war, getting alive at the end of the day is a blessing each day.

In drug infested neighbourhoods, not being grazed by a gangsta-bullet or a shabu-crazed bully is a miracle.

An immigrant priest once said in his homily, "I'm visiting my home country so I bought goodies at a discount store like bars of soap and toothpaste. My folks and friends would gladly accept them."

And he continued, "while here in this first world country, people continue to search and complain when there is plenty of food in the table, cars in the garage, cottages at the beach..."

Being rich is no sin. Enjoying the fruits of labour is good.

Being contented is peaceful. Sharing is a virtue.

An Anonymous Thanksgiving

 By Gener

The boy picked up a pebble and threw it far into the water
And waited for the ripple to appear,
In his young mind the circles seem like a fairway's dizzying ride
On a fourth of July or Canada Day.

Then he stood up and sailed through the wood's thorny trees

Stopped by and picked a twig
Examined it and made a walking cane
Or is it a stick to ward off the snakes

In his jolly he forgot about the errand to make
While his mother waited at the shack they shared
Pounding the flour and kneading for a bread
The supp'er they'd partake
As in the Lord's last ever day.

"My father'd be gone," the boy uttered beneath breath
And so soon in my youth he'd never be understood,
For the things I heard 'bout him
He was a fine lad gone mad.

In all his twelve years the boy leaped for faith
For a father he'd hardly known,
Inside a cell the old man lived
And will die alone in self.

As the Mother saw the son she smiled and wiped a tear
Her bread was fast rising and the corn soup a'boil,
Her turkey smells a jewel, her potatoes just as well,
The son and father would have laughed
As they all shared Thanksgiving before.

Not a minute more.

"Wait a minute or hold a sec," says the person on the other line.  And you wait, and listen to the champagne music playing. Or if you dial a corporate office, the operator or call centre will say, "all our representatives are busy right now, please hold for the next available person."

There's call waiting at work.

In personal or love relationships, waiting is an endless effort. People tend to give the partner or loved one more than enough chances to change for the better, to say the "I love you," phrase, or say sorry, or ask for marriage.

Parents give children enough leeway to mend their behaviour, and in offices, workers wait for the raise or promotion year after year.

The public wait for their government officials to do the right thing.

And for those who do wrong, seeing the fault and righting it could also take forever. 

When does the tipping point come?  When does the seam snap?  When do people call it quits?

There are those who wait endlessly; there are those who say not a minute more.

There are those who can move on easily from hurt; there are those who wallow in it.

There are those who see the light; there are those who stumble in the dark.

There are those who commit misconduct, feign ignorance and never read the signs of doom.

The beautiful waiting is in praying.  We wait for God to answer our prayers in His time.

Porcupine and perfectly un-fine.

Get away from me!

Porcupines are rodents with a coat of sharp spines, or quills, that defend and camouflage them from predators. They are indigenous to the Americas, southern Asia, and Africa.

They are dangerous to humans because their quills are sharp as shark teeth. And the quills are too sharp to touch. If you touch one quill your hand will bleed.

if the animal feels its life is at risk, it raises its quills. The normally flexible connective tissues beneath the skin stiffen up. When the quills make contact with an outside surface, they are forced inwards on the porcupine with as much force as they are forced into said outside object.  As the quills press into the porcupine, the now inflexible connective tissues break, allowing the quills to be easily released from the porcupine's skin, pulling loose as the object or person backs away in surprise.

Are there porcupines in your life?

Someone who may look threatening but simply protective of him/herself?  Or anyone who actually intimidates and harangues people by his/her confrontational behaviour and pronouncements?

Stay away from porkies.  It will save you aggravation, stress and  harm.

Human porkies feel elated that they appear dangerous and powerful, and those endowed with true wisdom avoid them like a plague.

Bagong Mukha.

Netizens with facebook, twitter, and other networking sites have profile pictures, or an image by which they can be seen in public. Often, these profile pictures are changed.  Why?

We want to put our best foot forward; we want our freshest and nicest faces to be seen by everyone. We also keep on changing our images as we change moods, situations, and dispositions.

Sabi nga sa showbiz lingo, bagong image.

Especially those people who've gone from being poor to rich, those who've been ugly into beautiful, or those who've been bad to good would want to expose their new personas.

But what about those who've gone from being good to evil?  Would they want to capture and show their new faces?

Tag serial killers, those who flaunt their crimes would use fake images.  Take for instance Ted Bundy, notorious for killing some 30 people; he used his good looks and charm to lure young girls whom he raped and murdered.

Theodore "Ted" Bundy

St, Mary of Egypt 

Sinners who'd repented and became servants of the Lord project a different aura, one of holiness. St. Mary of Egypt was a prostitute until she went to Jerusalem, at the Church of the Exultation of Holy Cross where she was barred from doing so by an unseen force. Realizing that this was because of her impurity, she was struck with remorse, and on seeing an icon of the Theotokos (the Virgin Mary) outside the church, she prayed for forgiveness and promised to give up the world (i.e., become an ascetic).





Our faces sometimes become our masks, the "hidden self."  Yet in countless stories of transformations, people reveal their encounter with their conscience, a new force, their Creator, and come out with new glow and peace in their countenance.

But those who dwell in darkness and righteousness emit the bowels of hades, like a fluorescent light which gives fake light and a most expensive glimmer. 
 

Not a joke.

Pinoys are the kings and queens of drama.  Madaling mag-emote. (They easily show their feelings).

And when is the best time we, Pinoys, do the emoting?

Let's eliminate the feelings while watching soap operas, and go down to the basics.

When it comes to singing, Pinoys would grab the microphone at karaoke parties, and sing to their lungs' delight.  Bigay todo at full expression, ika nga.  (Full of gusto and feelings).

When it comes to expressing their love, Pinoys would emote top of the line.  Whoever started the harana, (moonlight serenade) anyway?  If yesterday, our grandfathers strummed their guitars to our grandmathers' hearts, today's Pinoy Casanova or Bella would exchange playlists with the object of their desire.

The palengkera-style (below the belt) of quarelling with the loved one, with the neighbour, with the in laws or rotten friends and pasaway na mga tao , is another venue for Pinoy emoting. Colorful oral and body languages are utilized in such scenarios.  May sabunutan, may finger pointing, may murahan, may umbagan.  

With the increasing popularity of social networking and digital communication (wireless, cell phones, etc), Pinoys have been a solid bloc in venting their anger, appreciation, angst, adoration, acrimony and adulation. Be it in politics, showbiz, rumor mongering, and other issues, Pinoys would not forget to add the trademark Pinoy humour or joke - another form of Pinoy emoting.  Magaling magpatawa at madali ring mapikon. 
 ################################################
Sample below of Pinoy humour.  

ERAP JOKES
(Para sa mga Pinoys)
Classmate 1: What is 5 plus 4?

Erap: Eh di 9!

Classmate 2: What is 4 plus 5?

Erap: Gagaguhin mo pa ako eh binaligtad mo lang... eh di 6! #################################################

And when Pinoys get married, the emoting can burst at the seams. Parents of both bride and groom would both cry out of joy or gloom, and the wedded couples would even resort to gimmicks to celebrate their unions, such as elaborate themes, and out-of-church practises.


But one area where Pinoys are unbeatable is in time of sickness and death. We express our sorrow, pain and loss by visiting the sick, lending support to his/her family, attending the wake and funeral. Even in Mang Dolphy's wake, one could see the "emoting" even of celebrities and ordinary people.

In the average Pinoy household, relatives come together or even have reunions when a family member dies. In some wakes, family members settle their scores with one another, at times becoming destructive, while others make the wake a staging area to upstage friends and family. May naghahalukay ng lumang isyu sa familia, may nagmamayabang. There are even people who'd scream, "sasama na ako sa'yo sa hukay."  But deep in the heart, Pinoys are really cry babies, mababaw ang luha.














The most disheartening kind of emoting is when family members forget their manners, duties, responsibilities and simple ethics. Couples leave one another, children disrespect and disown their parents, and members forget the good deeds and only remember the bad ones.

In Memoriam - RITA DESIDERIO- seated in white blazer

                                                                  Of Bustos, Bulacan
                                                                  May 1928 - Oct. 7, 2012
                                                   MAY SHE REST IN PERPETUAL PEACE.

They say that Pinoys are prayerful. And this is where emoting is best.  Pinoys sing during the mass and service, and observe many practises and rituals.  In the Philippine Catholic tradition, there is the pabasa ng pasyon, the Santa Cruzan, the countless novenas, devotion or the panata, among many other practises.

Savannah.

She came into the household before "Habagat" arrived, given by a neighbour whose household was littered by cats.

Tiny and frail, she was but a cotton bud, all white fur with blue eyes that look cross-eyed. Poor kitty. She was a reject.

Her brother, bigger than her, was wild and aloof and after three days of hiding beneath the bathroom bamboo walls, disappeared when we let him loose.  He went back to his owner but a few weeks later, he died.

Now, Savannah is half-grown, her tummy, a bulge. She has learned to climb too, although just halfway through the trees.  When we move around the backyard, she'd follow and run ahead of us, zooming in like a puppy.

When she feels our presence in the kitchen in the early morning, she'd meow behind the closed door.
When we eat in the lanai, she'd curl at the foot and when we tend to the plants at the front yard and back, she'd wiggle through leaves and lazily tans herself through mid morning sun.

While the last Habagat raged on and flooded the Village, we moved the front dog Shadee to the Lanai, which is Savannah's turf.  At first, dog and cat snarled at each other.  When we came back after the Habagat, two dogs and cat were friends with each other.  The three bonded with each other in the face of calamity.

Savannah is a whiner, and a super muncher; she loves left over spaghetti. Whether full or not, she'd "miaw" to catch our attention.

We called her Scratchy before, but she's too perky and a pest, so we call her Savannah these days.

Savannah is a city in Southern Georgia.  This kitty prefers to drawl like a Southern belle.

Some days, we think it's better to adopt a cat or a dog; without them knowing it, these lovable animals are loyal, sincere, and even save lives of their human owners. 

Thank God for these creatures.

Beware the Ides.

 by Gener

You never saw the baby's smile
Nor clasped her hand nor stroked her hair,
In your ghastly gown you clung a dream
And nightmares in your eves to come.

The serpent tempted and grinned a while
While you licked the tongue that twirled,
But you bit the hand that nurtured you then
And romped the Eden of despair.

"My baby where are you?" alas you woe,
"Are you lost forever," and you query why?
And in your sane moments you saw a child
And it was you in your mother's arms.

You espy the pride in the mirror once,
But thought God had created it,
You bathed in men's starry eyes
And forgot about your elders' misty love.

Your faith has died
But should you go?
Beware then the Ides that bade doom,
In your countenance you thought the Lord has saved,
But what a fool
God sayeth you have been weighed. 

Of serpents thy lie.

 By Gener.

Of serpents and scorpions lay

Thy soul thee trade for fear,

In his carnal the belly bloomed

The sweat could rise and fall.

In time thy face shall fail the test

Of grace and youth and fun,

And in thy lone and self abide

A yen for a forgot'en will arrive.

Thou child,  a wife, a devil's snare

Shall look thyself in eye,

And what thee see could crush thy smile

For nowhere thou now belong.

In death thou never will be mourned

In life thou been forgotten all,

In birth thou had been blessed by God

Yet thou slapped the hands that cared.

The full force of life beckons thy kind

There'd be ups and downs to sail,

The wind can wipe thy ilk and tribe

The sun can sear thy ugly throat.

Beware the wrath of yin and yang

The tide of near and far,

The fire will gulp thy pride and sloth

And leave thy ashes as thou been found.

Twinkies.

When I was new to New Jersey and living on my own, I dreaded cooking for myself.  I'd arrive past six in the evening to an empty apartment and preferred to buy take out food.

If I worked late in the office, we were assured of a free dinner and a free limo ride back home.

When I lived near Journal Square in Jersey City, I'd walk to a nearby Filipino fast food restaurant and indulged myself on kare kare and sinigang na baboy. But when I moved to Clark at WestSide, I had to learn how to cook. Luckily, the big supermarket was across the highway.

Twinkies and those boxed Entemman cakes became part of my grocery list.  I had no fear of sugar back then.  Coke Zero was not part of the language those days, and I never heard of the words "low glycemic index."

When I hit the grocery aisles, I was also thinking Lay's potato chips, Budweiser, Snickers, Oreo, Chocolate chip cookies, and later on, Reese's Peanut Buter, Pepperidge Farm cookies, and Molson Blue.

Those were the sugar-filled days, ooh la la.

The Joy of Jazz.

CNE - a yearly event glossed over by Torontonians

Morning lite and morning fog-ged by local blahs,

I miss the morning calm and summer blues in a city called Toronto,

Dundas Square must be open now for free concerts

while grills are out still for barbeques

and chips and beer flow,

And St. Clair buzzes with store sales and the salsa dance night,

The subway line at Danforth moves to a standstill as the Greek food festival brings flavour to the west end,

It's August and summer still rules

'Tho the cool breeze can be felt by now,

Car windows are drawn open and kids flood the neighbourhood parks and alleys,

The oldies are off to their morning runs

while bikes rule the busy avenues,

And pools splash and backyard decks glow with sounds and smell of rap, jazz and hotdogs and burgers,

I miss the summers in Toronto and my jazz in the morn and in the eve,

I miss the moon and the stars and the twink of the sun.