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Thursday, June 29, 2006

rogue rogation (to angela)

if you hurt
if you flailed
if you're fazed by the
asses of the earth

if you throbbed
if you slugged
if you're crushed by the
powers of the grave

if you grieve
if you chafe
if you're drawn to the
function of the flame

simply recall
the pervading roll
"popsie's here"
beck and call (warts and all)

(in the meantime, write a poem,
so i'll judge the depression as in this;
no, not this one, but this...)

Small Prayer
by: Weldon Kees

Change, move, dead clock, that this fresh day
May break with dazzling light to these sick eyes.
Burn, glare, old sun, so long unseen,
That time may find its sound again, and cleanse
whatever it is that a wound remembers
after the healing ends.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE

I like graduations. To me they occupy the same sense of power and responsibility - as matters of transition - with baptisms and weddings. Not only are graduations symbolic of high commitments (though probably not as transcending as one proferred to a faith or a spouse), they come about as new beginnings, too. Hence they are called commencements.

Graduations, as if by design, usually share this moment of transition with the season, occuring at the waning moments of spring. And thus we imagine fresh graduates uttering the words, "Uh, here comes reality" more than they wanted to say, "Uh, here comes summer vacation".
-------

"Uh, here comes reality". Now I remember the speech of a certain Eric, graduating from Ithaca Colege in NY this past spring where he threw a glimmering question to his fellow candidates (and probably to all of us outside of that circle) that somehow made me think way after the fact: "Where are we?"

Eric represented all students, graduating or not, who must have been annoyed by posturings from all sectors of society who have bamboozled them with advises of this kind, Get ready to face the real world, guys. And so on that day, he asked, "If that (meaning, the professional world) is the real world, then, where are we?"

Where were/are the students indeed if they're not in the real world? Is school some unreal - or worse, artificial - world?
-------

I have attended many commencement exercises myself, and quite a few actually were my own. And I got some memories that should be relayed, either because of their exalting quality, or because they need to be taken out of the graduation exercises reservoir from this moment on.

In Grade School, a classmate took his last step from a flight of stairs on his way to the principal standing in the middle of the stage to get his diploma when he fell flat on his face. The poor guy's last name was Dumdum and I now realize he was probably trying to live up to his name. At a perfect occasion.

In High School, we were all resplendent in our silk barongs and ready to enchant the night while facing the magnificent stage constructed for the event when suddenly there was heavy downpour. The only thing remaining fresh in me that night was the sampaguita lei hanging on my neck.

In College, only five of about 30 from my major went on to attend.

Post college? Well, there were quite a few celebrities...
-------

I heard this story more than once, though it still remains unconfirmed. George (Dyords) Javier, who in college at the Ateneo was already a known comic, was allegedly asked by the rector (?) not to do anything foolish on his graduation day. Javier said Sure, but asked permission to take a bow before the audience. The request sounded kind of plain and manageable that the authorities found no justifiable reason to deny it. And so on that graduation night, after George Javier received his diploma, he took his bow. Or should I say, His Bow. Off went his hair, with the cap still on, and the only thing more shining than his bald pate was the moment his father screamed from the stands, That's my boy!

Again, this story remains unconfirmed.
-----------

In high school, the salutatorian of the class before mine did not attend the graduation rites because, bless his soul, he did not graduate valedictorian.

In one Ivy League school, a friend of a friend did not go to hers even if she was their valedictorian. When my perplexed self asked her why, she quipped nonchalantly, I do not need the affirmation.
(I have yet to meet a person more intellectually secure.)

In one Manila University, I remember attending this mushiest commencement I have ever seen. There was a part where candidates had to go up to their parents, who then proceeded to place the hoods on their necks, and in that soupy moment the Paul Anka song started playing in the air -

Good morning yesterday
You wake up and time had slipped away
And suddenly it's hard to find
The memories you left behind
Remember, do you remember?

That was one unforgettable soup.

In Miami, one High School plays popular (contemporary) but meaningful songs as their graduation song selected by the graduating students, and one year when they had Wings beneath My Wings I was told nobody left the rites with a dry eye. teary-weary. Then some years later, there was furor when the school authorities denied the students' request to have this Stevie Nick's song (I forgot the title but it goes something like, And time makes older, children get older, and I'm getting older, too.) The request was denied because, as the report went, Nicks had questionable reputation. (???!!!What has that got to do with graduation???!!!)
--------
The NY Times published, a few issues ago, excerpts of speeches by some celebrities in commencement exercises all around the nation (those who spoke included Pres. Bush, Condoleeza Rice, Billy Joel, Jodie Foster and Michael J. Fox) - and the one I liked best was that delivered at NYU by Supreme Court Associate Justice Anthony M. Kennedy who said -

"Think of people around the world, and particularly in Africa, who have no clean water - and the job falls to women - must spend six, eight hours a day just in trying to bring clean water to their children.

"Eight billion hours a year of human effort are spent just in bringing water. And when I heard the statistic, sitting like you are in an audience, i thought, "Well, he must have said eight million." Then I thought, "maybe it's 80 million." It's eight billion hours a year of wasted effort because the water is often contaminated when it gets there. This isn't rocket science. You can fix this."
----------

I remember attending a friend's graduation in Columbia University some years ago. During the procesion, I noticed some of them wearing tassels (just like the cord attached to some very formal curtains) hanging from their right shoulders. The tassels have different patterns and colors, obviously for distinction, and each color or pattern must be symbolizing something different from another. I asked one Caucasian graduate what hers signify and without looking at me she responded, with a head so upright I thought her forehead was almost parallel to the sky, "Honors Society". "Oh wow!", I replied, "I thought you were the suicidal prom queen."
--------

And all these actual experiences in life find magnificent version in literature, like in Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man where Hon. Rev. Homer P. Barbee addresses the students after their gleeful song, Lead me, raise me, to a rock that is higher than I.

Ahhh, life. Ahh, literature. Ahhh graduation.

The end.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

MGA KWENTONG ANIK-ANIK MULA SA ULONG ME KATOK-KATOK

Ansarap ng Sabado. Haay. Isa pa nga, with feeling. Hayyy.

Sabog ang pawis ko kanina, nagjogging kasi ako ng mahigit isang oras, simula 7:oo ng umaga. Tuloy nyan lupaypay ang dila kong nagparang kay Gene Simmons, pramis kamatis, anghaba sayad sa tuhod (nakataas kasi ang paa ko sa silya).

Doon ako tumakbo sa campus para maiba naman ang ruta at nagsasawa na ako sa mga pato, dito muna ako sa mga pata, anlalaki, yung nasa harap kong ale grabe, sakop ang buong footpath, pag nadulas ito at nadaganan ako e talagang anakngpata, Eh Q me, sabi ko sabay tingin sa muka ni Aling Pata, ooops, ang ganda naman nito parang kamuka nung supermodel na dating asawa ni Billy Joel, pakakasalan ko to pag nakapagbawas ng 200 sa timbang at pati na rin sa edad, medyo binigyan ako ni Lola ng konting puwang, ramdam ko nga e para na syang magririgor-mortis, makalayo na nga at baka makunan pa ako ng statement dito...

Pagdaan ko sa isang bus stop na may waiting shed, tigil muna ako para makasagap ng konting tsismis, I mean, hangin pala. Me ale dun na obviously e nagaantay ng bus. Ngumiti sya ng s.o.p. na ngiti, yun bang tipong mass-produced na ngiti, tas maya-maya na-bore siguro tumingin sya sa t-shirt ko sabay tanong, You're Chinese?, sagot ko agad, Nope, sabay ngiti at takbo ulet, palayo.

Di miminsan ako napagtanungan kung ako e Chinese. Nagtataka nga ako kasi maitim ako. (fyi, maitim din ang budhi ko. di naman ibig sabihin mabait lahat ang Chinese, e.g. Limahong) Me kilala ba kayong Chinese na maitim? Na kulot ang buhok? Na bobo sa Math? Kaso lang pala me rasong magtanong yung ale sa bus stop. Nakasuot kasi ako ng t-shirt na Beijing Olympics, 2008. Wagi. Bigay ni Ate nung minsang nagtampisaw sya sa Yangtze River.

Tas nun dumaan ako sa Virgin Records para maghagilap ng mga bagong iingg-innngg. Me bagong album ang Keane, pinakinggan ko. Josme, si Rufus Wainright ata itong pinakikinggan ko, tas mayamaya, Josme, nagparang Coldplay naman, tas mayamaya ayus, lumabas na ang true Keane Sound. Scoooore.

Pagdating sa bahay check ako ng email. Taena, nagpadala yung isang tropa sa Pinas. O eto baka di nyo pa natitrip, paka-corny muna kayo.

Subject: BREAK MUNA!

Mom: baby, you're good in math. Now I'm going to ask you a question.
Baby: sure mom
Mom: if your daddy gives you 3 apples and I give you 4 apples, what's your answer?
Baby: thank you po!!!

BF: may malaki ako problema.
GF: wag mo sabihin problema mo lang problema natin dahil nagmamahalan
tayo. ngayon ano problema natin?
BF: nabuntis natin si inday at tayo ang ama

"There what it takes to be. Then we shall so be it because it is. To do or not to is in the what, now or what else. Without which there never to you!" - words of wisdom from Senator Lito Lapid.

Pare1: pare parang malalim ang iniisip mo!
Pare2: nanaginip ako kagabi kasama ko 50 contestants ng Ms. Universe
Pare1: swerte mo! ano problema mo?
Pare2: pare ako nanalo!

1 panget na babae, hinoholdap
Holdaper: holdap ito! akin na gamit mo!
Babae: RAPE! RAPE! RAPE!
Holdaper: anong rape? holdap nga to eh!
Babae: wala lang! nagsusuggest lang...

In a pet shop...
Customer talking to a parrot...
Customer: hoy! can you talk ha?! bobo!!!
Parrot: yes i can!!! ikaw?! can you fly ha? GAGO!!!

Priest: ang mga bakla'y walang lugar sa kaharian ng langit
Mga bakla: carry lang po father...dun na lang kami sa rainbow mag
slide-slide!!!

Girl: doc, pacheck-up po
Doc: sige hubad ka ng panty at bra tapos higa ka
Girl: hindi po ako, itong lola ko po
Doc: sige lola, hinga na lang po ng malalim

O sige dyan na kayo at manginginain muna ako ng kahit anong maisasalba dito sa kusina, parang masarap yata yung cupboard, mmm, lantakan ko kaya itong kawali. Makaligo na lang kaya, tas tambay sa Park at maituloy ang pagbabasa nitong libro. Mazurka for Two Dead Men. Camilo Jose Cela. Tas mamyang hapon makapanood ng sine. An Inconvenient Truth ni Al Gore. Wagi. Di tulad nung isa dyan. Lugi.

P.S. ngapala: Bago na yung domain ng Pinoy Book Review ni Ed. Arianne Angela Solis, pakicheck na lang yung link ko, tas me post sya ngayon tungkol dun, sori di ako marunong maglink, I mean marunong ako dati kaso nakalmutan ko, antangatanga ko pero I'm sure alam nyo na yun.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Ang Tiwala, Bow: Isang Mapamulang Komentaryo Sa Pagkakapanalo ng Heat sa Nakaraang NBA Finals

Minsan 1 titik lang ang kailangan upang magkaroon ng malawak na distansya sa pagitan ng dalawang salita: Ang "r" lamang ang tanging nakapaghihiwalay sa diwa ng "friend" at "fiend", at kapag pinaltan mo ang hulihang "a" ng "i" sa tiwala, tiwali ang syang kahihinatnan.

Sa larangan ng NBA (o kahit anupamang team sports), minsan isang bagay din lang ang tunay na makapaghihiwalay sa isang contender laban sa pretender at nakakatawang isipin na "tiwala" kontra "tiwali" ang syang pinagbukod nitong dagat-dagatang kahihinatnan; sa NBA, katiwalian ang kawalan ng tiwala sa mga magkaka-koponan.

Bigyan natin ito ng klasikong halimbawa sa katauhan nina Michael Jordan at Dominique Wilkins. Ang dalawang ito ay parehas na matindi subalit isang bagay ang nagpabatid kung bakit ang isa ay dakilang champion at ang isa'y hamak na champuy lamang - may taglay na tiwala si Jordan sa kanyang mga kaanib.

Ito si Jordan. Sa kanyang pagiging fundamentally sound, alam nyang malaki ang magagawa na maiangat nya ang level of play ng kanyang mga kaanib. Kay Wilkins, ang tangi nyang nai-elevate ay ang kanyang vertical leap. Oo na at human highlight film ka, pero bok, overexposed ang mga negatibo mo.

Naalala nyo ba nung isang championship run ng Bulls laban sa Jazz, ipinagkatiwala ni Jordan kay John Paxson ang bola, maging sa huling sandali, dahil sya ang nagtatama? "I have made the same shot a hundred thousand times before", sambit ni Paxson ukol sa kanyang buzzer-beating shot. Alam ni Jordan yun, kaya nga pinagkatiwala sa kanya ang bola. Kung sa Atlanta Hawks nangyari ang pagkakataon, si Wilkins lang ang pwedeng humawak ng bola. Walang maaaring paglimiin ang kanyang tiwala bukod sa pansariling kakayahan.

Eto ngayon ang isa kong ipinagdedebate: mala-Jordan si Dwyane Wade sa mala-Wilkins ni LeBron James. (sabi ng mga posters ng mga fans sa Cavs Arena: Witness. Kakoba, dapat yata: Weakness).

Sabi nung isang anchorman sa Florida Sports Network nung pinagtalunan kung sino ang magchachampion sa NBA Finals, "put your
money on the team with the best guy on the floor". Hindi nya sinabi kung sino ang tukoy na best man on the floor, pero walang alinlangan, kung one-one-one, on paper, si Dirk Nowitski ng Dallas Mavs ang best man on the floor. Pero kung ang tanong ay best team-player on the floor, wagi, e mag-ala Jordan na tayo, si Wade. Heto si Nowitski: matapos ang isang kahindik-hindik na booboo ni Josh Howard, ramdam mong gusto nyang ipakain dito yung suot nyang mouthpiece. Tinadyakan pa yung stationary bike na halos dinig mo ang mura sa dibdib nyang "gructhn splkn dmnnn stupdn na translated as: ambobobo ng mga kasama koh!"

Pero ang pagtitiwala ni Wade sa mga kasama nya, o ng mga Heat players sa bawat isa, ay may taglay na kalinangan sa mga pagganyak ni Pat Riley. Isang kwento nga nya sa kanyang mga alagad, alinsunod sa pagganyak na ito, ay pinarating sa media sa gitna ng kampeonato:

May isang tightrope walker daw ang nagpamangha sa mga turista sa Niagara Falls nung lumakad ito sa lubid patawid sa nagngangalit na ilog at talon. Nung nakarating na sya sa kabilang parte ng ilog, tinanong ng tightrope walker ang mga tao: "Sino sa inyo ang naniniwalang kaya kong lumakad mauli sa lubid na yan na may tulak-tulak na "wheelbarrow"?

Walang sumagot. Maya-maya, may sumigaw, "Ako! Naniniwala akong kaya mo!" Tinanong sya ng tightrope walker "Sigurado ka ba talagang kaya ko?". "Oo", sagot ng turista. "Sigurado akong kayang-kaya mo!"

Napangiti ang tightrope walker, matapos noon ay sinabi nya, "Salamat sa pagtitiwala. Sige, lalakad ako sa tightrope na tulak-tulak itong wheelbarrow. At ikaw naman dahil sa iyong tiwala ay isasama ko sa paglakad kaya sige, halika, sumakay ka na sa wheelbarrow."

Moral lesson: Ang pagtitiwala ay hindi sabi-sabi lang dahil kung hindi, ika nga ni Miss Beautiful Eyes, puro ka "kiyaw-kiyaw lang". Otherwise, kundi ka kiyaw-kiyaw lang, ahh, magmistulang Michael Jordan ka, magmistulang Dwyane ka at hatawin mo kaming abang mortal lamang.

Si Dominique ka? Si Nowitski ka? Pinaalala mo yung isang parabula ni Doc Juan Flavier:

May isang mama, pangalan e Juan, na mula sa pagkabata ay walang bukambibig kundi si San Pedro. Anumang panganib ang hinarap nya, anumang kalye ang ipinatirapa, walang galos syang nakamtan ng di sambit ang banal na ngalan ni San Pedro. "Nakupo, San Pedro!" "Nanay ko po, San Pedro!" "Wag mo po akong pabayaan, San Pedro!". Ilan laman yan sa mala-San Pedrong linya at litanyang namutawi sa maitim na labi ni Juan.

Isang araw habang nagmamaneho si Juan, nahulog ang kotse nya sa
bangin. Swerte naman ng konti dahil napatilapon sya at nagawang makakapit sa isang sanga ng punong nakalawit sa gilid ng bundok.

"San Pedro", saad nya, "tulungan mo po akow."

Bigla-bigla, may malaking boses na dumagundong buhat sa langit. "Si San Pedro ito, anong kailangan mo?"

"Ahe-he, San Pedro bosing, salamat pow, baka carry nyo namang mailigtas ako dito priti plis", pagmamakaawa ng napupurnadang si Juan.

"Naniniwala ka ba namang kaya kitang iligtas?", tanong ng Boses.

"Naman to oh", padrama ni Juan habang nanggagalaiti ang nangangalay na braso't kilikili, "Alam nyo namang bata pa ako kinarir ko na kayo pow."

Katahimikan. Nakabibinging katahimikan.

Maya-maya, sabi ng boses, "Kung talagang naniniwala at nagtitiwala ka sa akin, bumitaw kah!"

Napalunok si Juan. Tumingin sya sa ibaba at nakita ang mga matutulis na batuhang nagbabadya ng kanilang plataporma. Sabog ang pawis at marahil ay pati na rin ang etat, sambit nya, "Uh, teka lang, may ibang santo pa ba jan?

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

SA WAKAS NATAPOS DIN...

Ang NBA Finals bago ako tuluyang magka-nervous breakdown. Biruin naman kasi 9:00 ng gabi ET nag-uumpisa ang mga laro, tas natatapos pasadong alas-dose ng hatinggabi, tas kelangan kong magising ng 5:30 n.u. dahil kakayod pa (ng asin), tas pagdating ng katanghalian sa opisina para na akong extra sa Night of the Living Dead ni George Romero. Laking pasasalamat ko nga sa mga hilaw na players ng Dallas, tsaka sa superstar ng Miami na si Wade, Raw vs. Wade, dahil sa galing ng isang partido e natapos din ang sanhi ng aking napipintong nervous breakaway basket.

Malaki ang investment ko sa Miami Heat akala nyo ba? Sobra-sobra ang ipinundar kong oras sa kanila na maaari kong ginamit sa pagtulog, pero hindi!, hindi!, hindi ko maaaring itulog ang panahong maaliw ako sa marahas na pagbubunganga ni Avery Jones. Ayos, ka toy. Lintek ang boses mo, parang boses ni Inday Garutay.

Nung una kong napanood ang Heat sa Arena, live, nasa kanila pa si Glenn Rice, tas ang kalaban nila, dyaraannn! Dallas Mavericks. Tune up match yun para sa opening ng 1995-1996 season. Ang sikat na players ng Dallas e yung Triple J: Jason Kidd, Jim Jackson, Jamal Mashburn. Tas bago magsimula ang opening, kinuha ng Heat si Alonzo Mourning. Boy, from then on, the Heat had come a long way baby dalupan!

Maraming heartaches ang naranasan ko sa Heat. Nung sa tingin ko na may tsansa na sila sa championship (dahil ala na si MJ sa Chicago), na-injure naman si Timo Hardaway. Tas 3 years ago nung rookie season ni Wade, sagwa naman nung laban nila sa Indiana sa 2nd round ng playoofs kasi ang tumira ng final shot e si Eddie Jone. Klang! Parang free throw ni Shaq ang suma, ansakit sa mata.

But our time has come, ika nga. Pero magnanimous in victory naman ako e, kaya halina at paghahalikan ko na kayo, tsup, tsup, tsup, at ilabas na rin ang mga tabako at bote ng champagne, kasi ang Heat na dati kong tinaguriang Miami Hitad o Miami Hituwad nung panahong ang kaya lang nilang talunin e ang voleyball team ng Our Lady of Lourdes all girls school, aba e tunay na champion na sila ngayon, ika nga e lords of the ring.

Salud.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

NOTES ON PROSPECTIVE/RETROSPECTIVE SUMMER TRAVEL: MAKING MINE MIMICRY

Can we describe the world this way,
eyes wide open, shoes up on the table
with dusky halo like a lantern,
and the still face, distant and ever-demanding,
nailing us down with its eyes,
hunting down in our innards
the cowardly swagger of allegory?
It is possible. The world can be described
in any way you like.
(- Heberto Padilla
from A Fountain, a House of Stone)
---------

The world is a peanut.
The world is a plastic balloon.

The world is my playground.

---------
I love to travel. I love travelling so much I had to fool myself just so I could travel. My Colombian friend once told me that at the strike of 12:00 midnight New Year's Eve I have to walk around the complex carrying luggage like travellers do. I followed her instruction to the T as in Te, and from that moment on I had been travelling - in time.

If I can eat dalag today, if I can ride on a carabaoback today, I have to be 11 years old and vacationing in my father's remote town in faraway Ilocos.

I feel awkward; past tense from hereon.

We went to Ilocos for summer vacation after I graduated from elementary, and if you asked how, it's because I got to first grade at the horrible age of 6. Supposedly salingpusa or whatever the cat that is, I was at the top of the class by the end of the term (My classmates must all have been successful today; rule of karma, you know...)

We hied off to Ilocos where my aunt and uncle lived, half a day's drive away from my Dad's. We took Philippine Rabbit and I remember that the bus engine was not up front or at the back of the bus but right inside and beside the driver. Boy, it was hot. It was hot because it was summer and because of that engine that could (kill us all). I was wearing a white shirt and I remember this, too, very clearly because when we got to our destination I was magically wearing a black shirt. I also had black nails, blackened face, and boy, my hairless nostrils were as black as hell. Of course the bus was not air conditioned. For crying out loud, my dad's town didn't even have power. No Virginia tobacco, it was not a power blackout (please, not black again); power was simply not distributed in that town yet.

So you may ask, how long ago was this?, and I will ask you, how long is a Chinaman?

The town, facing the Sierra Madres, was a very peaceful town. Until we arrived. We arrived at night, and the following day, the place was never ever the same again.

First, my sister, then 15, supposedly intelligent, left her brains at home. She was bathing by the artesian well when all of a sudden she dropped the soap in the well. If the soap were coin, it could have brought good luck. But because the soap were a soap, it was naturally bad luck. Why? Because the well was the source of drinking water for the entire community. And so, while we watch with bated breath, some townsfolk with gritting teeth had to rapel down the well and serve as human compressor. He had to drain the well until all soapy extracts were removed and new spring water was ready to quell our effing thirst once more.

Then one time we had to go to the ricefields to bring kakanin to the farmers and farmhands. We took the bullcart and on the way to the fields, with the mountains as if only a mile away, life was a thrill. Going back to my aunt's hut was a thrill too. A real thriller actually because somehow the bull felt really bullshit with us and it ran as fast as it could, never mind the humps and bumps locally known as pilapils, and on the way home my sisters and myself were crying, with me probably crying the loudest because my head got its own share of humps and bumps.

Speaking of kakanin, my aunt was a traditionalist even with kakanins, and everytime she cooked the fare, the first plate was for the spirits. "Para sa ispirito, wag gagalawin", she would tell us with a straight face by way of introduction to their Ilocano world of spirits. But my Dad, despite being a dj (dj d banger, to quote batjay) - a true blue Ilocano, I mean, did not believe in spirits. So one time he ate the plate of kakanin on the table. My sisters and I were horrified; we were covering our faces while my dad was savoring the ricecake and washing it down with salabat. When my aunt came, she was petrified. "Who ate the kakanin?", she asked. "Who's it for?", my dad asked. "For the spirits of course", she replied. "Then he spirits ate them", he said, and that ended the discussion. My dad was the eldest and despite lack of tradition, his word was law, even to his siblings, bless their collective souls.

to be continued, in traveltime...

Friday, June 09, 2006

white heat

1. there is a bug crawling up the wall as i type this, emerging from the back of the monitor like an emcee coming out of the curtains prior to the staging of some play. in other times and under certain circumstances the dramatic bug would have ended up quashed against the wall like a black dot on white paper. but i do not want the new tenants in the adjacent unit to cast aspersion on my character this early, (or this late: time check is close to midnight.) someday, at some godly hour, at some godly opportunity, both cockroach and neighbor will know the inanity of my scale.

2. playing on my stereo at this moment is a cd called "the songs of west side story", with various artists providing cover to bernstein and sondheim's modern version of a romeo and juliet musical in a manhattan setting. the actual track is the haunting "one hand, one heart" by the r&b artist tevin campbell, and four tracks away, which i await, is chick correa's version of "prelude to the rumble".

3. i don't now why i am playing this cd, or why i have not played this for years. i like west side story and i have seen this musical in every medium possible: stage, film, television - you name it - and in high school we even presented excerpts during our foundation day to much acclaim.

4. speaking of chick correa, when i was still in the philippines somebody told me he was the consensus greatest jazz pianist in the world, closely followed by the filipino bobby "wildman" enriquez who wowed his audience by bashing the keys to some jazzy melody with his fists and elbows.

5. the bug is gone. someday i will kill you, pesky bug, with my own bobby enriquez fist or elbow.

6. dwyane wade, don't fail me please or i will squish my neighbor in every possible angle if the dramatic bug fails to show up at this same time on sunday.

7. there's a place for us, somewhere a place for us.

8. that bug looked like jason terry.

9. i'm falling asleep.

10. go heat.

Saturday, June 03, 2006

ahhh, summer...

takbo na naman ako kanina sa paligid ng lawa, pesteng yawa, kasarap talaga gid pag sabog ang gilagid, este, ang pawis pala pirs ting in da murneng, bago tuluyang magalit ang haring araw sa kanyang nasasakupan. takbo ako ng marahan, takbo ako ng mabilis, takbo ako ng papila-pilantik at lumulundag-lundag pa na parang baylerina kasi minsan me nadadaanan akong etats ng topats, bat di kaya turuan ng tamang pag-etat etong mga quack quack na to?, dun kayu sa damuhan mag-pupu, plis pretty plis, bago ko kayo pag-isipang i-transform into a succulent pato tim.

ayy, summer...

aiii, lab tu lab you, beybeh...

ayann, si donna summer.

as in donna summer of my discontent.

kayong matatanda kayo, kilala nyo ba si donna summer? sya yung me version ng "could it be magic" ni barry manilowkow na sobra ang pagkahalinghing at parang nananawagan na gamit ang art of multiple orgasm. naalala ko tuloy yung matanda dun sa when harry met sally, sabi nya dun sa waiter, can i have what she's having?, matapos humalinghing si meg ryan na parang si donna summer sa kantang could it be magic. (kung ako yung waiter na napagtanungan ni grandmama, bibigyan ko sya ng instrumentong pang-labatiba.)

daan ako sa starbuko, ahh, ang lamig sa loob, konti ang tao, ayus, bili ako ng kape de pataranta at blueberry muffin, fresh from the oven, tas basa-basa ng new york times. ayus. news item: "online throngs impose a stern morality in china." tipong sumusubaybay ang mga chinese sa internet bulletin board. at dun, matapos manawagan ang isang husband na aniya ay napindeho, libo-libong chinese ang nag-react at hinanting ang aniya'y namimindeho. tsk, tsk, tsk, sabi ng butiki, delikado ito.

ooops. mayamaya alas-dyis na. daan naman sa bookstore at namili ng mga librong babasahin sa pinaplanong pagbabakasyon. nasa shopping cart:

a house for mr. biswas - vs naipaul
great american prose poems - david lehman, editor
man without qualities - robert musil (ikalawang kopya ko na, buset, nawala ko yung unang kopya bago pa man basahin)
into africa (the epic adventures of stanley & livingstone) - martin dugard
color photography - henry horenstein

ahh, summer. san kaya makapagbakasyon? sa 2nd floor kaya? o sa kanto? sa oakland kaya? as in oakland wehehe, tama ba spelling?

speaking of spelling, nanood ako nung scripps national spelling bee at naalala ko na naman yung spelling bee days ko nung bata ako. susmarya, panay ang root ko dun sa canadian na bata, si finolla hackett, kaso syet na malupet, yung german-flavored word na
weltschmerz (pronounced as velt-shmertz) e naispell nya with a v. asus! e german-speaking pa naman ang ama nya. tang ama talaga oo. yung nag-champion, minani yung "ursprache".

sa spelling contest sa skul nung araw, me kaklase akong nakaupo sa death row (4th row) ang sumali ba naman, dun sa unang spelling word, vignette, sagot nya

v...i...n...y...e...t

aiiiiii, s...y...e...t

(hapi birthday nga pala kay arianne angela fransisco solis ng manitoba, canada...uyyy, di na sya teen-ager)