PAWPAW

Sa anumang kinalalagyan ng tubig gaya ng tapayan o ilog, kapag lumampas ang tubig sa itinalagang alanggaan (o space), ang tawag dito ay "apaw". Makalipas ang pag-apaw at lebel na ang tubigs sa labi (brim) ng kinalalagyan, ang turing na doon ay "pawpaw". From apaw to pawpaw. Nakaw. Ayan...alam kaya ito ng isang taga-Bulacan dyan?!

Paggising ko kanina, ansakit ng likod ko, naisip ko tuloy kung ang kaengotan ko sa utak ay apaw na o pawpaw pa lang. Paano ba naman kagabi ay nanonood ako ng t.v. (college football, Rutgers vs. USF), nakasadlak ako sa carpet, patiklop na nakaupo, at nakabarandal lang yung likod ko sa paanan ng couch. Sa sobrang tagal ng pagkakaupo ko, di na ako makatayo at nagparang magbubukid ako na kumakanta ng Magtanim ay di biro, tas ang koro ko ay halaw sa Pobreng Alindahaw, Aruy, aruy, aruy (aruy, aruy, aruy). Ikanga, old age is written all over my back. Tas ganun pa ang ginawa ko, nagpakaengot at umupo sa lapag.

Kaya ngayon, sa halip na tumakbo ako at paliitin ang aking size 34 na bewang, lekat, eto at nagta-type ako ng isang pyesang di ko alam kung saan ko napulot. Ang masama pa nito, natalo ang USF kagabi ng 2 puntos lang dahil pawpaw ang kaengotan nung isang player nila at sinalo ang offside kick ng di pa lagpas ng 10 yards. Anyway, motorway, di ko naman talaga peborit ang USF, gusto ko lang matalo ang Rutgers sa dahilang pinag-iisipan ko pa.

Hayyy football season, leche ka, ansakit mo sa likod. Sa larangan ng college football, panatiko lang ako ng University of Miami at Ohio State U, tas sa pro football naman, Miami Dolphins at New York Giants. Kaso, bukod sa OSU, puro talunan ang mga hitad. Hoy, hoy, hoy, tigilan na ang pag-apaw ng kaengotan nyo dyan.

O sige po, makapag-hanap muna ng ben-gay dito....sakit likod kohhhh...

OPEN LETTER #1

Dear Lara,

The great Montaigne once said that if he were to be importuned as to why he loved a friend, his answer would be a simple 'Because it was he, because it was I', and that this resolution, while sounding so simple and aimless, was actually based on the premise that he and his friend sought each other long before they have met.

There is actually no hard and fast rule on this great notion of friendship, and if people were to ask me if you were my friend, I'll definitely say yes, and if they feel so interrogatory to ask why, I will have no problem quoting Montaigne and leaning on the virility of his premise: I had been looking for you long before I tripped on that chance to speak sex for Blogkadahan.

Of course when I said 'I had been looking for you' I didn't mean as if I knew you before and was only unaware of your whereabouts. Truth is I didn't know you from Eve (although now that I know you already I must say if you were Eve, not only would you have eaten that apple, you would have even baked it into a scrumptious apple pie). Truth is I had no idea a pretty Pinay lives in Belgium. Truth is I didn't know a pretty Pinay who lives in Belgium plays tennis and writes heavenly.

So my question is, What the hell are you doing in Belgium? Is Belgium the, uhmmm, new paradise?

Anyway, first things first so we clear the air of its sooty errors.

The wonderful letter/post in your Multiply blog which, truthfully, I tried to comment on but was somehow ruthlessly rejected, was the prime catalyst of this theme-post - an open-letter chuva that I will do like an American 13-episode season, which makes your feature the pilot ep. (Eve's was life's pilot episode too, right?)

Which bring me to correct: No, I am not a member of ATP!

Because if I were, I should be playing tennis professionally, which means I should be playing tennis for a living. The truth is, I do other things to eat (one of which is to ask - or grab - from others their hard-earned food). The truth is I have spent a lot of money on tennis while tennis has not brought me a single cent; and the truth is, that of all the many injuries I have sustained in my life the most serious were from playing tennis (torn calf muscle; fractured wrist; tennis elbow; sore shoulder; calloused hands; bruised sheen). Which translates thus, tennis is not what I do for a living, it is what I do for dying.

But everything else I told you are sustainable: I am a decent tennis player (which does not mean I am a decent person; I definitely feel for that exhibitionist cuckoo who opened his fly in front of a nude sculpture, and when asked why, said 'Men must expose themselves to art.') - even if all of my moves and strokes were composites of everything I hoped myself to be: my serve reeks of Taylor Dent's; the forehand has a long swing that is obviously Hewitt's; the backhand I unashamedly admit was copied from Magnus Norman's, and the lateral moves were, hmm, originally cbs's.

So, why are you my friend?

Well, because it seems you liked my tennis even if you have not seen me play. But for now, go Davao!!!

So it's good to hear you picked up that racquet again, Lara. If you can't make Boris Becker proud, at least Boris Pasternak must have thought otherwise.

love, 40,
cbs

JOUISSANCE

Sa pagbabasa ko ng mga sanaysay tungkol sa feminism di-iilang ulit kong nakasagupa ang salitang "jouissance" na medyo nahahawig ang tunog sa "nuisance" - na palagay ko'y aksidente lamang at walang kinalaman sa kanyang pagiging "feminist term".

"Kaluguran" ang pinakamalapit na kahulugan ng "jouissance" sa Tagalog, o "pleasure" sa Inggles, pero wala raw talagang direktang halaw sa ibang wika ang "jouissance" kaya di ko maipaliliwanag ang tunay na rationale ng paghalihaw ng jouissance sa mga feminist essays na nababasa ko.

Siguro unang tanong mo, oo, ikaw na nag-iisang nagbabasa nitong blog ko, Bakit ako nagbabasa ng feminist essays? Uh, siguro, kasi, gusto ko lang talaga makilala ng lubusan ang mga kababaihan, kasi sabi daw, may kakaibang katotohanan ang namumukadkad sa diwa nila, at isa pa nga, dahil taliwas sa katauhan ko ang kabuuan ng isang babae, anumang katangi-tanging bagay na likas sa kanila ang natuklasan ko sa pamamagitan ng pagbabasa ay isang yamang di kayang tawaran ninuman. Para bang pananaw ni R.W. Emerson na "A new person is always a great event", anumang bagong bagay sa pagkatao ng isang babae ang natutunan ko ay isang pangyayaring dapat ipagbunyi. Nakanam. Ayos.

Pero ano ba talaga ang gusto kong palabasin (bukod sa kakatwang hangin sa aking pwet?) Wala lang, gusto ko lang gumawa ng isang seryeng tipong "open letter theme" sa mga kababaihang nakilala ko dito sa Internet, bilang personal na pagbubunyi sa okasyong nakilala ko sila.

Tanong: Bakit kababaihan lang, paano naman ang mga lalaki?
Sagot: Hmm, kasi, ang mga lalaki, nag-uusap lang talaga kami over bottles of beer, at isa pa, wala naman talaga kaming pinag-uusapan kundi, "Tol, samahan mo nga ako, suka tayo", o kaya itatanong ng isa "Burat burat?" at ang isasagot naman ng isa ,"Oo, burat burat!"

And so, at this juncture, gusto ko lang sabihin sa iyo, babae, na kung maaari kong ulitin ang salita ni Emerson sa seryeng ito, We will meet as though we met not, we will part as though we parted not" ay gagawin ko maipagbunyi lang kita sa mga bukas na liham ko...

Kaya't humanda ka at iihawin kita (ng pagmamahal, atbp., ehehe!)

e-2-2-loi.

SIGE NGA...SUBUKAN MO!

May nabasa akong article sa St. Anthony magazine, Try This, na parang isang hamon sa kabataang subukan ang ilang bagay na di nila nakasanayang gawin tulad halimbawa ng pagkain ng gulay, o pag-indulge sa sports na kakaiba. Teorya ng article, na syang standard na kaisipan, e mag-iiba ang dimensyon ng utak mo at lalawak ang pananaw mo kapag may ginawa kang bagay sa unang pagkakataon. Kumbaga, mula kanina hanggang ngayon, anlayo agad ng agwat mo sa dating ikaw.

Pero syempre may pros and cons ang pagiging adventurous. Meron ngang magsyota na nag-bungee jump for the first time, intensyon ni lalaki na i-pop up ang big question sa kanilang pagtalon kaya naisip nya, kelangan kakaiba ang set-up ahehe, kaya ayun, nung tumalon sila tinanong nya agad si babae, Hon, will you marry me?, sagot ni babae, Noooooooooooo, yun pala sobrang haba ng lubid nya kaya ayun, basag ang bungo nya.

Sa probinsya ng tatay ko nung araw, meron akong nilapitang kapwa bata na nagbubungkal ng lupa sa gitna ng bukid. Nangunguha pala sya ng kamote, tapos, then and there, kinakain nya. E di ako naman na patay-gutom, nakikain din ako. Wahaw, dre, ansama ng lasa, lasang lupa. Tas nung gabing yun, ang ulam namin e salagubang. Medyo nag-pass muna yung mga kapatid ko pero ako, lintek, andami kong nakaing salagubang nung gabing yun kaya pakiramdam ko nung patulog na ako e parang me lumilipad-lipad sa loob ng tiyan ko.

Tas minsan namang namangka kami ng mga tropa ko sa Manila Bay at nakahuli sila ng pusit at dinarang lang sa apoy ng ilang segundo, walang abut-abot e nilantakan ko rin yung pusit, pagkagat ko nga sa ulo e sargo yung tinta sa mukha ng katabi ko. Hayup ka, sabi nya, Para kang si Anggula (yung taga Borneo kuno na kumakain ng hilaw na manok sa karnabal). Pero pramis dre, pagkaytamis-tamis ng pusit, matamis pa sa pinakamaanghang na ngiti ni Tiya Pusit.

Nung anim na taong gulang ako at ang bunso namin e 1 taon, pinabantayan sa akin ng nanay ko si bunso at may bibilin lang daw sya sa tindahan. Yung kumag kong utol e nagngangawa dahil nagugutom kaya ang ginawa ko, kunyari e si Iron chef ako, sa isang mangkok e pinaghahalo ko yung ketchap, ginutay-gutay na tinapay, patis, gatas, tsaka sabaw ata yun ng nilagang baka - at nung nagparang kaning baboy na ang mixture e pinakain ko kay bunso. Sarap na sarap ang kumag kaya nung lumaki na e di na rin naiiba sa akin. Subukan mo ngang alukin ng piniritong papel e di ka nya tatanggihan.

Maraming bagay na rin akong nakain sa mga lugar na napuntahan ko. Nasubukan ko na ang bison, ang ostrich, ang kalabaw, pero ewan ko ba, tawasin mo man ako, di ako kakain ng aso, ng chicko, at ng chesa.

MUSIC IN MY MIND (conclusion: the very best cd)

10. Schubert For Two (Gil Shaham/Göran Söllscher)

The power of music, not unlike that of the short story, resides in its inherent ability to transport us to a space and time previously ours (through memory) or to one that was never ours (through imagination). The intangible endowment of music to ourselves carries the same weight as gold (the reward lies in the purity of substance) and the same efficacy as dream (the better part depends on our response to it), and if I were to describe Schubert For Two, it is nothing short of a 24-karat dream.

Schubert For Two is a powerful production. It's effect on me was so great that without even listening to it, it kept me company in what could have been a moment of fear. Last year during that fateful morning of Hurricane Wilma, while we were being tormented by gusts of wind and eerie sounds and flashes of blue light (exploding transmitters and snapping power cables, it turned out), I sought refuge inside my walk-in-closet with a flashlight on hand, a John Cheever book, and the music of Schubert playing in my head. The night before, I was listening to this newly-bought compilation of Franz Schubert's best music with Shaham on violin and Söllscher on guitar - and the tracks were so beautiful they stayed with me all throughout the following morning when ficus trees were being uprooted and roofs of neighboring buildings and houses were being torn apart. I was there in my little square paradise remembering Schubert's portaits of intimacy and loneliness, innocence and experience, armed with the knowledge that the opportunity to listen to that cd again will give me the courage - if not the pleasure - to suffer, among others, the atrocity of power failure.

I share the view of some music critics: If melody alone is what a music make, nobody in history can hold a candle to Schubert's music other than Verdi and Mozart. Not Beethoven. Not Chopin. Not Simon and Springsteen, and certainly not Lennon and McCartney. In the world of music, Schubert was King Midas and everything he touched turned into a song, and the quality of his melodies contains the eloquence of fresh feeling that through the years, to this very day, had not been surpassed. Schubert's music is The music, and Schubert For Two cd, to me, is The Schubert cd (even if the transcriptions for guitar were originally for piano, resulting in the tapering off of certain notes).

Music is my great love and this love is as far-reaching as a mountain range: from Frederick Delius to Delirious, from Rock to Rachmaninoff. My daily nutritional intake inludes a helping of Blues and Kundiman, Marvin Gaye and Howie Day, and I learned to like Country through Lucinda Williams; Appalachian through Mark O'Connor; Colombian through Marta Gomez; and Cuban through Ibrahim Ferrer and Ry Cooder and their incomparable Buena Vista Social Club. I have an extensive library of Classical - Handel, Debussy, Brahms, Liszt, Butterworth, Vivaldi, Saint Saens, and a complete collection of Yoyo Ma's, plus many more. But I take no more pride in having this one cd of Franz Schubert.

This continuing (and finishing) series, then, is my irony. While lyrics are the common denominator in my first nine selections, lyrics are missing in this number 1 choice. But the truth is I did not miss them, really, because despite the absence, what remain are something so profound, so beautiful, so pure, and so true that in the shortest track (Dance #12, no more than 41 seconds) for example, I was able to salvage feelings of what Gil Shaman says in the liner notes as "a whole universe of emotions".

Classical music, to some of us, conjures images of symphony orchestration - lush and sweeping. On this cd, however, Schubert's music was arranged for a single violin and a single guitar which, while evoking the charm of Vienna and the romantic essence of landler (or waltz, the German dance), the cd is basically a music for introspection, or for something that simply reminds us how lucky we are who possess the power to hear and carry the discretion to listen.

Listen, then, if you have the chance as mine, to Schubert For Two which, for all intents and purposes, contains the music I will share to the first alien I meet; will dominate the air during my wedding; will welcome the arrival of my firstborn; and will accompany me, as on that fateful morning, on my waning hours (specifically with the last track, Ave Maria, which presents Shaham's profound phrasing similar to a dying man's breath). For this cd carries what could be, collectively, one of the greatest sounds on earth.

(INTERMISSION...

there was a strange scene in the movie "a beautiful mind" where faculty members at princeton u approached the table of john nash (russel crowe) in the cafeteria and one by one laid down their fountain pens on the table to form a straight line. it was some kind of academic ritual at the school to declare to the unknowing "awardee" of his selection for the nobel prize, and nash, as the movie tells us, had just been awarded the economics prize for his so-called game theory. watching that scene in the moviehouse some 5 years ago, if my memory serves me right, was the last time - prior to 2:30 this afternoon - that i cried.

this afternoon i unconsciously cried again, with a thin film of tear coming from my duct probably intending to clear my eye, if not my soul, into seeing faithfully what was being shown on the tv screen: andre agassi doing his customary four-sided bow and kiss before, and to, his adoring crowd for the last time.

like any tennis fan of my age bracket, i have seen the evolution of tennis through the years, and everytime i looked at the changing shape, hue, line and form of this sport, i cannot help but see the silhouette of andre agassi in all the changing things i see. andre's influence on the sport was so all-encompassing, because of him this game had long been removed from the abominable clutches of the aristocrat.

i have seen andre play live quite a few times already, but nothing beats - as always - the first time. it was at the then lipton open in key biscayne, march 24 1998 - my birthday, where he played against albert costa of spain (who few years therefrom was going to win the french open) and it was that moment when i had become the biggest sports fan of any sport that i ever was.

have you ever seen chito loyzaga play in person? or nora aunor sing in person? or lolita rodriguez act in person? the reason i ask these is because, like andre, seeing them do their thing on tv is so unexplainably different from seeing them do the same things in person. it was probably their aura, or electrifying presence, or the artificiality of the tv's magnetic waves so far removed from their actual personality that you seem to see a totality different celebrity. and andre was that. he was not powerful, not very quick, his serve speed was average, but you knew that like a smart lawyer who was aware of winning the case in the library rather than in the courtroom, he always had a gameplan, the x's and the o's representing the weaknesses of his opponent at his command and he showed these through his strokes, and ball placings, and footwork, and wrist breaks, or even the way he shifted his body weight from one side to the other.

there are a few things that are considered most difficult in the difficult world of sports, like hitting a changeup pitch in baseball, or returning a 135 mph tennis serve "to the body". andre is considered the best returner in tennis history, so good in fact that my brother told me his return of serve is so much a powerful weapon as the serve itself; and in turn i told him that andre's eyesight was so sharp that if he were a baseball player he could probably determine a changeup pitch by the shape of the baseball stitch as it comes towards him at the plate.

but i like what andy roddick said: of all the good things andre did all these 21 years, we have yet to see the best he could do to mankind.

so, good luck andre, i could almost hear the words of montaigne coming from your mouth while you made the 4-sided bow this afternoon: God grants me cold according to my cloth, and passions proportionable to the means i have to withstand them: nature having laid me open on the one side, has covered me on the other; having disarmed me of strength, she has armed me with insensibility that is regular.

go on sir and conquer the other fields of life. like the tennis of your past, evolve them, and from those new fileds, give us the pleasure of the 4 sided bow and kiss. and then we'll all scream...

advantage, agassi!)