As a student, I amused myself with counting the number of times my teachers or professors say "uhmm" or "well" or "actually" and other adverbs to start or bridge their sentences. At the end of the lecture or class, I then compare notes with classmates. Probably a product of boredom when trying to listen or understand a lesson, I carried this amoral hobby into a habit. A bad one -when I listen to homilies, when I engage in conversations. It even grew worse by also watching out for mannerisms like touching of the nose or brushing off bangs with fingers (envious me, of course) or squinting of the eyes. I took mental count.

The Bible passage "log in your own eye" is lurking here. I couldn’t count the number of times I switched my P’s and F’s with my own family giving me a dose of my own medicine. They are the 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 to my misbehaving. The 𝙧𝙡 words I try avoid, too. Instead of world, I say earth. Instead of girlfriend, I say 𝘫𝘰𝘸𝘢. I want to say 𝘴𝘺𝘰𝘵𝘢 but my 𝙨𝙝 is faulty, too.

Oh yes. I see that big log already. I see the misdeeds, too. In my mind, I try to be more 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘭.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

Are you a #Daiso fan? My wife is. It’s a place where you enter without anything in mind to purchase and leave with a bag full of items you thought you’ve been looking for all your life. We were in one such store branch in HK near our hotel one vacation time. Never mind what’s in my wife’s cart but I found this pick-up rod made of a long thin aluminum shaft connecting a pistol-like handle on top and a clamp at the bottom. Press the handle to activate the clamp. I immediately fell in love with it and carted it away. Although my family thinks its 84cm length won’t fit in any of our luggages, I was dang SURE it would.

It didn’t. My fondness undermined my engineering expertise. Can love be blind, really?

At the airport counter, I asked the lady if it was possible to check it in as a separate item. You know what -she agreed! And because of its fragility, she even put a FRAGILE sticker on it. Yay, #Cathay!

Fast forward to NAIA airport, I was excited to be reunited with my stick. All the luggages have been pulled out and the conveyor has stopped but no stick. When the conveyor resumed rolling, there it was -but damaged. It was crack-bent at the middle but its mechanism still worked. Boo, who? Airline or airports?

I wanted to file a complaint but my family was against it. Isn’t a HK$10 tool worth fighting for?

Nevertheless, it remains one of my favorites in the house. A toy or a tool doesn’t have to be so intricate and expensive for one to enjoy and use.

Cheers! #MyCafeNotes

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