Hey, Arnold!

Walking briskly towards the customer service of Ace Hardware in Mall of Asia, I see him on the phone. I had to wait a few inhale-exhale routines before I could ask,

“I’m looking for Arnold.”

His bewildered look tells me he didn’t know Arnold from Abraham. I am beginning to doubt if I am in the right place, or the right time. Or am I just imagining things in my mind that happened a few hours ago?

Two days prior…

I accidentally spilled milk on Andre’s work+gaming laptop keyboard -from Q to R to V to Z and back to Q. No need to look into your keyboard now. Just keep reading. Immediate reaction was to power it down while turning it over to allow milk to flow out through the keys and to prevent further spread. While Andre held it up, I grabbed the vacuum and vacuumed out from underneath with all its might.

After draining out the vacuum battery, I drove out to all the nearest hardware stores, big and small within 4km radius to look for WD-40 Specialist Contact Cleaner. I was convinced by its label: Cleans sensitive electrical parts; Fast acting; Leaves no residue; New red cap! The item wasn’t available anywhere near.

I let a day pass. Laptop still resting in upside down position.

Two hours prior…

I called Ace Hardware in Mall of Asia to ask if they have the animal I was looking for. The guy at the other end of the line said they do. I asked if he can reserve a can for me and he obliged. I asked for his name and where to look for him.

He said, “Pls look for me at the customer service. My name is…”

Two hours later…

As he leaves his post with his bewildered look to look for Arnold, I told him about the item I asked Arnold to reserve for me. Exasperated, he let out a deep sigh, turned back and said, 

“Oh, that was me -Alfred,” with a forced smile on his face. 

I got my can.

Laptop still works.

Cheers!

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Renovation: It’s Mental!

If you want to know how much stuff you have stored in your house, renovate your kitchen.

It is what we’ve been doing now for the past four weeks -tear down all cabinets, move everything movable out of the way of construction and painting, and turn the rest of the house as a holding area for all those movables. It ain’t a pretty sight at all.

With every square meter of the house occupied, our parkour skills got an instant boost in traversing from point A to point B without losing balance. Online meetings are a major challenge when drilling and hammering cancel out any other sound, online or offline. Wonder no more why I have done no coffee cup reflections lately. Inspirations are hardest to come by when the area in your brain used in generating ideas from is as messy as the living room floor.

Plans for the renovation started a few weeks before the virus invasion. The design was finalized and the contractor was all set. Then lockdown after lockdown.

At the turn of the year, a neighbor started a major renovation. I spoke to his contractor, showed him the plans and asked for an estimate. A few more persistent bargainings and a round of beers, a deal was struck. A few days later, dust enveloped the entire place.

Much of the dust has settled now though -a good portion of which rested in our lungs. The kitchen is now beginning to look a lot like the perspectives my Interior Designer made at the start.

I’d like to believe that we are at the end of this pandemic. And when it finally does, it just feels good to the bone that I have something new to look forward to. Inspired cooking. Inspired dining. My barista son’s little coffee nook gets its upgrade, too. And maybe, more inspirations for me to write about.

But first, nightmare -we have to bring back all those movables in. A good portion will not return anymore. That is a positive thing. Which to place where and how for those that will? I’ll let the queen do the thinking.

For now, it’s a cup of strong coffee for me. Please!

Cheers!

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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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And I, Thank You!

This morning, I cozy up to my usual place with this cup spending this moment giving thanks for the abundance of God’s goodness this past week. I find this to be a good time to remind myself that I am blessed and I am grateful. Actually, for me, each day is a day of contentment and gratitude for the gifts of the past and the challenges it provides to help me keep my motor running and the mass between my ears from deteriorating.

I can get so caught up in the day’s routine that I forget to stop and be thankful for the good in my life if I don’t start this way. During the day, I am triggered to be grateful for big and small things, by big and small things. All because of a good morning coffee-kick off spiked with appreciation.

I see my wife and kids; I give thanks.

I pop peanuts into my mouth; I give thanks.

I recall a happy moment when I still had my bangs; I give thanks.

I delivered a good daddy joke; I give thanks. And laugh at myself.

This is my way of building my stockpile of happiness (an Ikigai rule). 

Today and always, be thankful. And be happier. 

Cheers!

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An Ode to my Valentine

Doe-a-dear,

My Valentine

You are the sunrise I wake up to

     the brightness that bathes my soul

You are the scent of pink roses

     that fills my senses all day long 

You are the rays of a setting sun

     that comfort a weary mind 

You are the faint moonlight

     the silver glow that guides my way

You are the peace of a midnight

     that lets me rest

You are my love

     my valentine.

Cheers!

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