You must greet me a happy anniversary today. It’s been four years since a foreign body that I have never seen and will never see -a minuscule stent- was inserted into the left arterial part de mi corazon. Doctors call it an angioplasty. I call it a very expensive procedure. It was placed there due to an 80% blockage in that artery. Due to the buildup of cholesterol plaque. Due to stressful living and eating Big Macs and Jollibee Champs. Due to a massive lack of discipline. And it will be there for the rest of my exciting existence.

I am thankful. I haven’t had a bite of any kind of meat since. During the first year, I went vegan and later, vegetarian. I am thankful, I get to learn to practice a less stressful living, enjoying life as it comes and goes, taking delight in every stride I take when I run, knowing how to relish drinking coffee one sip at a time.

Like this one. To the God who gives life, and life in its fullness, I raise this cup.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

When I was in HS as a cute freshman or maybe sophomore, I got a card from someone who did not identify herself. I assumed it was a girl because it was then unthinkable for someone on the fence to make such a bold move. And during the ’70s, there were just a few.

The card was signed "One Day in Your Life", which was then a popular song by Michael Jackson. No name. No signature. The card made its way clandestinely into one of my notebooks. It wasn’t one of those "Monito-Monita" thing where you get to play secret Santa to a participant everyday until the big reveal at the Christmas party. I would have recalled. But no. It wasn’t Christmas time. It was a no-season hand-made card.

I never got to know who the person was but I remember the song’s lyrics that include a line that says, "You’ll remember me, somehow." And this proves I still do. I remember being appreciated by someone, maybe even admired from a hidden distance.

I just hope that if by any chance you or any of your accomplices gets to read this, this I say: You may happen to have a secret crush on me then or copied discreetly in one of our Math exams and the card was your way of expressing yourself in thanksgiving -or otherwise, I thank you. Up until now, 48 or so years after, I still get that kilig feeling thinking about it.

Here’s to you, MJ fan.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

This is lesson 1.10 in de-cluttering.

I took a good look at the kitchen and dining area where most of this kind of activity is crying out "HELP!".

I scanned the area and told my self, "Uh huh… Uh huh…"

This is how engineers count without using fingers.

Furthermore, I told myself, "We need to buy two 90-liter mega boxes."

Myself answered back, "Ok, two. Let’s go"

So off we drove incognito with all the facial PPEs required to enter a mall. When we got there, I told myself again, "Better buy three, for good measure."

Myself didn’t put up a fight in disagreement so we bought three. For good measure.

We got home with still enough time to do the task at hand. Much later that day though, it was made apparent that 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 wasn’t enough to describe the three new boxes that we just purchased. In fact, the amount of clutter that went out to the garbage pick-up area would’ve packed them full.

So I told myself, "We need more. Buy three."

Myself answered back, "No. Buy ten more." I agreed.

Never underestimate clutter.

Never underestimate yourself, either.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

Dear 𝘛𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨,

You loved coffee more than soda or water. I still remember the 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙠𝙤 coffee grounds that 𝘐𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘨 would boil in a metal pot where you’d dip your cup in or pour directly into a thick-walled clear glass. It didn’t matter how many times those grounds have been boiled before, the carabao milk and the sugar would always fix the flavor. Then came instant coffee. That, too, you loved. Blend 45 or Nescafe that came with their iconic reusable glass containers -tall with ribbed bottom design for the former and short with diamond cut design for the latter. I can still remember the aroma they brought as we prepared for school every morning.

I won’t say that my love for coffee now started then because I wasn’t a coffee drinker ’til after college. Or probably it did but the seed took time to grow, so to speak. But even then, it’s you that I am reminded of whenever I drink a cup that your grandson Andre prepares for me everyday. Oh, I doubt you’d love Andre’s espresso -they’re too strong for your instant 3-in-1 taste. Maybe a cortado or a flat white will suit you just fine. I’m just guessing. I wouldn’t know now.

I raise this 𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯 today with you in my heart and mind. Remembering the days you sipped your hot morning cup, one foot resting on the chair, thinking of how to make ends meet for the day.

Happy Father’s day in heaven, 𝘛𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘨. Enjoy St. Joseph’s and St. Peter’s brew. They taste heavenly, don’t they?

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

Funny how easy it is these days to teach little tots skills we struggled flesh and bones with to learn. My daughter Nikkei took literally a few like-this and like-that with her cellphone to teach her nearly 4-year old nephew, Kirky Boy, photography. In a few, he was taking pictures of everyone in the family all by himself. Sometimes, you don’t even need to teach them. Leave them with the gadget, they’ll find a way to tinker and do things you never got to figure out yourself.

Who cares about rule of thirds, contrast and depth of field? He can learn that by Christmas time. For now, it’s this icon and that button. No running out of films, either.

Creative thinking in my time was borne out of hard work fused with perseverance and inspiration especially when raw mats and data weren’t just a click away.

This may still hold true today but pressure is bigger to produce those juices faster because expectations and competitions, too, got bigger.

And anxiety.

And depression.

For me, meeting this challenge head on requires prayers. Bigger. More fervent. More frequent. Without it, your own juices will drown you out.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

I remember my first computer I bought when I was still working in Saudi. It was a 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗖𝟲𝟰 which I used for writing letters to family back home and, of course, for games (𝘒𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘬𝘢, 𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘙𝘰𝘢𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘤𝘦, etc) for when there was nothing else to do because there were no bars to hang around on weekends or after work. Or too humid, too hot for a game of tennis or shoot hoops. Compared to the gadgets we have now, the selfie you took a while ago is bigger in size than this 64kB! dinky. Yeah, that big! But ancient techie nerds kill for every kilobyte they can get.

It came with a dot-matrix printer that whirs so loudly the vacuum was threatened. Also, a separate drive that feeds on 5.25" floppy disks -the kind that you can’t just put in your pocket because if they fold, you’re doomed. I forgot to mention that being hi-tech then means you’re on your own without Google or Wiki or Youtube taking the fun out of learning.

Those were the 80’s when internet was still creeping slowly into our lives and when fax and telex ruled the com world.

This is the story of my humble beginnings in this technology. I look back, once in while, to help me confidently move forward. It also keeps me from getting a bit forgetful. I never want to forget how beautiful it was to ask someone -not Google -how to fix something or what’s French for 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪. When liking didn’t require a finger or a mouse. When a mouse was.

Here’s to the analog days. Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

Driving within a jogging distance away from our place, a new gas station appeared to have just sprouted while we were sleeping through this pandemic. Funny thing is, even if we frequented this area prior to the multiple lockdowns, I forgot what it was before its new transformation.

When we got back home, I had to check Google map street view to find out its pre-pandemic history -it was an open space made into a ragtag basketball court where street kids played.

I had little recollection of it because it personally didn’t matter to me and those who used the place to shoot hoops or stand-by and smoke were unknown to me. Too bad for the street kids and by-standers, but good news to the business owners.

Change brings gold to some, rust to others. Still to others, it matters not. Are you ready for some? New normal, new opportunities, new government (oh please, 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘯𝘢!). Bring 'em on. This bud is done and dusted.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

I always think of myself as a salesman. Tho an engineer by profession involved in power plant design at first and later ventured into lighting design, I sell myself and the craft I am good at. Along the selling way, I must have met thousands, if not a trillion and three people. Some became close friends, most I’ve met only once or very few times. I wonder if they still remember this sweet-talking handsome guy they’ve encountered at least once in their lives. Maybe not.

This thought crossed my mind this morning when I received the sad news that the mother of my son’s Elem School classmate -now based in iIoilo -died yesterday. Age may have inhibited memory recall but I can't remember meeting her more than three times. But in all those times that I can, I remember a gentle soul, one with a happy disposition despite life’s difficulties. Her character, during those brief encounters, left a lasting mark on mine that I try to make good of every meeting I do -giving a genuine smile or making a silent blessing. This was what she probably did, blessing everyone she met.

Here’s to you, o blessed friend, and to the many you have touched.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

We homeschooled our children in elementary -Andre in his last two years while Nikkei in four. In my class, it was Andre. In my wife’s, Nikkei. Suffice it to say, they graduated best in everything in their respective classes. It was one of the best decisions we made as a family. Our children were taught according to their learning styles: Andre was more kinesthetic, while Nikkei was more visual. They’ve learned to be very creative while in class. Like in taking breaks. Examples:

"Oh-the-eraser-fell-very-far-from-the-table-I-must-pick-it-up" break.

Explanation: The poor eraser did not accidentally fall 10 meters away from the table. And it was so difficult to find where it landed.

"May-I-sharpen-the-pencil?" break.

Explanation: The pencil didn’t need sharpening 5 times per subject. The trip to the sharpener was through the kitchen and the living room.

It was also during that time when I was still a struggling actor while my wife was a struggling trapeze artist. Just kidding. We were struggling financially. Homeschooling helped reduce our expenses remarkably. The world was our classroom. We got to teach them the ins and outs of my business. The ins and outs of life. The Christian values we imparted did much. I am comforted with the thought that their future is bright.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes