DRIVE X

Our Saturdate went the way of the unusual yesterday. Instead of the usual leisurely dine-in breakfast, we went for the Drive-Thru option at McDonald's because time wasn’t on our side. Induction ceremony and an extra-inspired homily by our parish priest had stretched our morning and eaten into our sit-down breakfast time.

(I’m not complaining, Lord. I’m just… mea culpa, Lord.

)

At the Drive-Thru, we rolled up to the speaker, rattled off our orders with a smile on my face (you never know), paid, and faster than the sunniest side-up, breakfast was served right through our car window. McFast.

As we cruised back home, I decided we might as well knock out some grocery shopping. Lucky for us, there’s an egg vendor conveniently located along the road to our village. We pulled off a little Drive-By maneuver. From where I was parked, I honked once to get their attention, and flashed an “X” with my fingers. And sure enough, faster than a scramble, a tray of extra-large eggs went through our car window! Talk about eggficiency!

Just as the smell of breakfast inside the car was making me even hungrier, we spotted a banana vendor near our village entrance. My wife said, “Bili tayo!” Lacatán for dessert after a McBrekkie? Why not! And so, we did a Drive-X, where X = pulling-up-the-street-to-buy-something-from-a-cart-pulling-street-vendor.

What was supposed to be the ordinary became the x-traordinary. Thanks to Drive Thru/By/X, my household was not deprived of a morning delight.

Cheers!

NOW SHOWING

And so it begins.

The biggest zarzuela.

The grandest comedy show.

The colossal display of absurdity in the Philippines.

Election fever has again descended upon the nation like a pandemic, bringing a viral swarm of candidates filing for local and national posts. The cast features a motley crew of actors, ex-convicts, thieves, and con artists, swarming the COMELEC sites with the energy of a town fiesta.

One of the main attractions is the family dynasties. Whether running together or, at times, against each other, these shameless entities -those who have turned politics into a family business -proudly proclaim "public service" as their noble calling. Their sincerity only seems to match their ability to fatten their own pockets.

Yet, amidst all the melodrama, there’s one silver lining: This is the one time every few years when billions (perhaps even trillions) of pesos flood the economy faster than a Christmas bonus.

The printing industry -from tarpaulins to posters and t-shirts -gets its once-in-three-year surge. Even pedicabs can expect new trapal rain covers, featuring the smiling faces of 'public servants.' Meanwhile, sari-sari stores and street vendors will see an opportunity to replace their outdated 2022 'vote-for-me' shirts with the latest campaign gear. In this election season, everyone gets a slice of the action.

And let’s not forget the short-term voters, the ones trading three days’ worth of rice for three more years of corruption-laden governance. Their bellies, at least temporarily full, will have something to chew on -just like gravy on chickenjoy.

Of course, there are those whose intentions are pure and who truly seek to serve the people. But they seldom win. So yeah, there's that. May God bless them.

Now tell me, can your favorite K-drama serve up such rich content?

And so I remind myself:

You may want to sit back, grab some cheese-flavored popcorn, and enjoy the show.

But, if by any serious chance you’re not happy with this circus and worried about your children’s future, then please, drop the popcorn and do something for your country.

For starters -who will you vote for?

Cheers!

SPEAKEASY GOING WILD

After a long night of delivering a lighting seminar to a group of architects, my buddies and I decided to unwind at a small speakeasy bar in Quezon City. Inside, a friendly bartender/waiter greeted us warmly and seemed a bit too eager to share his knowledge of drinks.

As he served us, he enthusiastically explained every ingredient in each cocktail, as if he were giving his own mini-seminar. By 11pm, the place had emptied out, and we were the only customers left. One of my buddies, who had clearly gotten comfortable with his spiked drink, was deep into a story. In the middle of his passionate rant (politics, of course), he suddenly froze.

"Ugh, what’s the word? It’s like…a pardon, a reprieve…you know, in politics!" He was biting his tongue as if trying to extract the elusive word.

Suddenly, from across the bar, the idle bartender -casually leaning against the wall near the door -confidently called out, "Forgiveness!"

The three of us turned our heads in unison -shocked, confused and amused. The bartender grinned, clearly pleased with his contribution. We exchanged awkward glances, silently agreeing not to encourage him, lest he take it as an invitation to join us.

Maybe idleness really is the devil’s playground. But tossing out suggestions from six meters away while we were mid-conversation? Not sinful, but not exactly bar etiquette 101 either, and definitely a loose definition of "speakeasy." To top it off, he was wrong! The word was “amnesty.” He lost the far side bet!

But in the spirit of non-violence (and because the cocktails were kicking in), we let it slide. We raised our glasses in an impromptu toast.

"To forgiveness!" I said with a wink.

Cheers!

PERSPECTIVES

Don’t judge a book by its cover -even if the cover is completely missing.

"You've gone bald!" she exclaimed.

The "you" in question was yours truly, and the "she" was someone I hadn’t seen since Mt. Pinatubo blew its top. Yep, that long.

Back in the day, I used to carry a comb like it was an essential survival tool, and I’d slather on the styling gel like I was prepping for a GQ shoot. As opposed to today, I’ve adopted a more minimalist approach. Hair care budget? Zero. Barbershop visits? Only in my dreams. Though I do miss the good ol’ "kwentong barbero" (barber shop tales). Might invite my barber over for coffee one of these days, just for the inspiration.

Anyway, my dear old friend only saw what was happening on the outside. What she didn’t see was that, over the past couple of decades, I’ve become quite the certified hotshot who started one of the country’s top lighting design firms. And, by the way, I can still run 5 km without needing an ambulance. She also missed an important fact: I can drive a golf ball 220 yards on a good -extraordinarily good -weekend.

She didn’t know what I’d been through or what I’d gained along the way. Can’t really blame her though. My scalp was shining like the bright glorious sun rising over Mt. Pulag. Hard to miss that, especially on a cloudy day.

But hey, she’s only human. I totally understand. I had my own human thoughts when I saw her that cloudy day, too. But I’m not telling.

That’s my little human secret.

Cheers!

THUNDERS AND MEETINGS

Aren’t you glad the rain’s finally called it quits? Thunderstorms, too. For the first time in a week, I can see the sun’s rays muscling their way through the last remnants of typhoon clouds. Speaking of stormy weather, when the thunder’s booming and the rain’s crashing down with disastrous intent, communication in my household takes a serious hit.

Case in point…

I rose from my makeshift WFH office to grab a snack from the kitchen. Now, in this household, if you’re in the kitchen at the wrong time, you automatically become "it" when the question, “Who’s gonna do it?” comes up.

Sure enough, before I even set foot in the kitchen, my wife whispers, “Dear, paki-saing.” (Translation: Please cook rice.)

Our daughter’s locked in a high-stakes online meeting, so whispers and miming were the order of the day. Between the rain pounding like mad and my selective hearing, I mumbled, “What, dear?”

"Saing. Sa-ing."

With my ears still processing the queen’s command, I wander into the kitchen like a confused commoner -looking left, looking right, scratching my shiny head like that’s somehow going to help. Then I shuffle back to my wife and, as loud as a whisper allows, ask, “Lacatán or Latundán?”

Yep, blame it on the rain, we’re going bananas!

Down with thunderstorms and online meetings. It’s coffee time.

Rain. Thunder and lightning. Online meetings. Bananas. And coffee.

These are part of what makes life beautiful, even if the sweetness is equal parts bitter.

Silent cheers!

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY POST

So, it’s your birthday! What gift do you want me to give you?

Now, before you answer, how about a little review? Remember that epic trip to Sapporo and Tokyo we just took? Yeah, I covered that. And let’s not forget Seoul, HK, Osaka, NYC, Chicago… oh, and also Sydney, Melbourne, and Queenstown. Seriously, I’ve bankrolled more trips than a travel agent.

So what could you possibly want as a gift?

It wasn’t that long ago that I moved heaven and earth, and maybe a few stars, to get you and your brother the best education. In this country, "best" means very, very expensive. It cost me a limb and an arm, not to mention a million strands of hair. Those were very difficult years for your mother and me, but it was very worth it because we love you so very much. Did I mention very already?

Do you want a party? You, my dearest daughter, I’ve always admired for being content and making the most of what you have. We, your parents, have taught you not to be materialistic. You love being simple and are so kind to others. You make us really proud.

But seriously, Nikkei, is there a present you’d like to receive today? You’ve grown to be wise in making decisions -like making your parents proud and happy, especially on your birthday. You’ve made us feel that you already have everything in life because of the love and care we always give you.

I’m not literally "counting the cost," but if you add it all up, that’s worth fifty more years of birthday gifts.

So spill it, sweetie -WHAT?

Happiest birthday, my favorite daughter!

You are a lovely, lovely gift from God and forever I will sing His praises for His goodness.

¡Te queremos mucho!

THIRTY

Thirty and counting.

Not my waistline – that’s probably not changing anytime soon. Not the number of strands remaining on my crown – I still have a bit more.

Thirty. That’s married life in years with my bride.

Thirty years ago, I made a decision to love, support, persevere, laugh, cry, and breathe with the one I vowed to before God and men – for richer or for poorer... well, you know the drill.

To my bride:

Not every moment was perfect. Not every dream came true. But life became more beautiful, and challenges became easier to face because you made the same decision. Two became one, a union that was, and still is strong.

Do we wish for thirty more? Let me ponder that over a cup of coffee.

But let it be known, 30 or more, 30 or less, the decision remains.

Happy anniversary, my Doe-a-dear. I love you plus 30!

Cheers!