A Mud Story

Our car got stuck in the mud. Actually, just the wheels, not the entire car. Cool, right? But we got lost somewhere in the middle of nowhere north of the equator. There were muddy rice fields as far as the eyes can see, separated only by this solitary dirt road with occasional mud cakes.

I got out of the car to check if my golf skills can figure out a way out of this muddle while my wife Rissa, my lone passenger who has been keeping track of my recent games, started burning incense and praying for divine intervention. 

All my efforts -that include getting my hands and running shoes dirty collecting stones to reinforce areas around the wheels, steering them left and right, forward and reverse -only sent the car closer to the earth’s core.

A van approaching in the opposite direction saw my predicament. It stopped for a while. I signaled to the driver that there was no way for them to pass through. Seeing none of its passengers or driver, and probably because I didn’t ask for help, I saw the van maneuver back and drive off. I wonder if they thought of that helpless, sinking black car that saved them from getting stuck themselves before their mommies tucked them in that night:

Did they get out safely?

Are they still alive?

My faith-full wife made best use of the intermittent cellular signal by calling our hosts who invited us for a ground-breaking event that brought us there in the first place. Her prayers were answered. 

A pickup truck carrying an international rescue team arrived in no time at all: our Filipino hosts (husband and wife), an Australian priest who celebrated the Mass in the event and an Irish benefactor to the project who is a golfer himself. Yup, that needs to be mentioned, too!

Faster than the spin of my sinking wheels, we got out and drove home safe and sound.

To the rescue team, thank you. To God who answers prayers, I praise and thank You. To the van, yup, we made it out alive.

Cheers!

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A Fleeting Thing Called Life

Just got my first birdie in golf. After exactly a year of playing, I finally made one! It was one lucky 13th hole, Par 4, in New Asia Golf Course in O’Donnell, Capas Tarlac last weekend, March 5, 2022. I knew I’d make the putt because my second shot landed just about 6cm away from the hole. A gentle breeze in the direction of the hole would have eagled it. Did someone take a video of it? Of course, golf course!

As soon as I sunk it, I let out a big yell loud enough for the flight ahead of us to hear. I waved to the left, waved to the right, gazed at the sky to give thanks and then danced like the Shaq the way he used to after a magnificent dunk! I was on cloud nine -whatever that is.

And then, it was over. That fleeting but powerful moment of exhilaration and jubilation was over. On the 14th hole, I hit a double par.

I chased that most elusive first birdie, you must know. I trained and practiced hard and hardest, flexed muscles I thought that at my age, had no use for anymore, dreamed and imagined about the glorious moment. I was falling in love with my birdie self before I became one. The law of attraction worked for me.

Oh, that feeling! So beautiful, so good. But it was over. It was just fleeting.

Just like college graduation day. Years and years of toil and sweat -only to culminate in an hour or two of brief celebration and Kodak clicking. Fleeting.

Or the first kiss and whatever comes after it. Fleeting.

Or the feeling of sitting behind the wheel of your first car for the first time. Fleeting. 

I’ll take them as life’s happy moments. But I will not let myself get so carried away by the temporary high of a first birdie that I forget to savor the beauty of life -to feel the wind on my face; to feel the joy of running; to feel the rush of the most lovely times of my life. Or just enjoy the pleasure of peeing after a long wait.

It is good to write about them, though. The picture above and this post, my first birdie lives forever.

On to the next chase: my first eagle.

Cheers!

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Story of My Light

My lighting design firm, Toespin, turned 12 years old yesterday, March 3, 2022. It is truly a delight to celebrate these years, but the years before that were not all bright and sunny -far from it.

That day, 12 years ago, is still fresh in my memory. From our house in Caloocan city, our first home, I walked several blocks to register a business name at the nearest government agency for business registrations. My first choice was Luxoré -playing on the word lux, meaning light and the letters R and E, my initials. When read, the last syllable should sound like ‘ray,’ thus the acute accent. The letter “O” is there to bridge the two to sound fancy and sophisticated. My pinkies were raised as I handed over my application form to the public servant at the counter.

It was denied. Somebody else had previously taken the name. They were selling furniture, I think. Or was it salted eggs? I can’t recall anymore.

I had to come up with another one fast. The first thing that comes to mind when push comes to shove is one’s name, right? Because if you can’t remember your name, you are not in a position to introduce yourself.

So here is Toespin’s etymology. Its first two letters are the last two letters of my first name and the last five are the first five letters of my family name. If that sounded like I was talking from a speeding roller coaster, you’re not wrong. It’s probably the same way Google, eBay, Yahoo and Youtube got their names, too. Their names suggest absolutely nothing of the nature of business they’re in -my inspiration, exactly.

After a few minutes, Toespin was born. I had to do something to make sense out of what appears to be a senseless name taken from the dark by shedding some light into it. And oh, that light came. It came at a time when all the money I had in my bank account was just enough to pay for penalty for not maintaining the required minimum balance. I remember pulling up a gas station and told the attendant:

“Fifty, please.”

“Fifty liters, sir?”

“No, fifty pesos.”

True story. Not joking. I wasn’t bald yet.

And so as I look back, I do so with awe and wonderment. As Rafael Nadal would say it -unbelievable! It’s only through God’s grace that we have a business that has survived the years. That, and despite the fact that I started this when I was already 50 effing years old! That just proves that you can’t be too old to think young.

God favors the old and the balding. I’ll take that anytime of day. 

Story of my light. Cheers!

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