2020: THE YEAR OF LIVING CAREFULLY Part 3

 It's official.  

In three hours, 2020 will be all over and we have pinned all our hopes that 2021 will treat us more kindly.  As I have written before, I am not of the belief that the moment the clock strikes twelve that all our challenges and agonies embodied by 2020 will be wiped clean like a Magic Slate. 

Nope.  As Elsa said in that Ricky Lee classic filmed by the great Ishmael Bernal, " Walang himala!"   Tomorrow we will wake up to realize that 2021 is but a sequel to 2o2o but (again hopefully) with a better narrative that is less interesting but more compassionate.

As part of my personal superstition I made it a point that all pending jobs and bills have been fulfilled and paid before the year is over.  I have made it a personal mission to make sure that all my work for 2020 is duly accomplished and that the utility bills have been paid --- insuring that there is enough stock of rice, salt and sugar in the pantry.  Such are the beliefs I inherited from my mother.  You do not want anything of 2020 to stick to you as you cross the border of the following year.

Then there is this thing about New Year's Resolutions.  I mean --- do people still make these "To Do"-lists in the name of self-improvement as a year comes to a close and the prospects of another twelve months mark a new beginning?  I do think the Gen Z-ers are even into that considering their Weltenschauung is all about "Whatever!"  But then again it is interesting to list down all the areas that require improvement as far as personal assessments are concerned.  Y0u do not need a New Year revelry to pinpoint where you can improve your life.  

Maybe it is because the internalization is far better when you are philosophizing after consuming half a bottle of red wine or maybe seven straight shots of Jose Cuervo.  

So as a final word to mark the end of The Year of Living Carefully, let me list my so-called resolutions for the Year of the Ox.  The Year of Mickey Mouse wasn't too good or entertaining --- so let's see if we can dance around the Year of the Bull.

(1) I shall be more concerned about my health than my waistline. 

When you reach that certain age, you will come to accept that no one is going to love you because of your body.

No one in his or her right mind would want to ravage your body with his or her love.

No amount of hours working out, Keto diet and visits to your favorite heaven-sent cosmetic medico can ever reverse what the Law of Nature dictated involving aging, metabolism and the passage of time.

So if I spend a good hour to an hour and a half doing my cardio, it is not because I am aspiring to regain my 32 inch waistline when I was not even half my present age.  I shall be content with the use of moisturizers and sweating it out to get rid of the toxins but I am not going to delude myself into thinking that I can impersonate any of the Bench Body models.

Love me as a cream puff ... or leave me.  If you cannot handle my love handles, then you do not deserve my love. Naks!

(2) I am not giving an flying f--k about opinions of people who I know do not also give a flying f--k about me.

I think if you have lived for more than six decades you gain the license to choose to think the way you want to think as long as you do not go around deliberately hurting anybody --- most especially yourself.

When I was twenty, I learned that half of success is getting along with others.

When I was thirty, I found out that success involves choosing the right people to be with.

When I was forty, I realized that success is not fulfillment and you need to charter your course with the right advice from people around you.

But when I turned fifty I came to the point of accepting that the world cannot be defined by your needs alone ... and that there is no one else like you so deal with it.

And now that I am sixty plus, I have decided that since I cannot please everybody ... then I should stop trying to do so and only define my happiness by giving joy to those who really give a s--t about me. 

Regardless of how good a human you are or how evil you have become, someone will always find a reason to give you the finger.  So if somebody tells you to f--k off, give the creature a head to toe look and ask, " And who you? "

(3) Affirmation in life is not like Facebook: it is not based on your number of friends and likes you receive in a day. So I will give more appreciation to the people in my life rather than the acquisitions to define my environment.

The best people in my life (aside from my nephews and nieces) are those I have known more than half my present human existence.

There may be some additions here and there but I realized that each time I host my Christmas dinners, even the so-called new friends have been around for nothing short than a decade.

I would like to keep it that way.  As Stephen Sondheim said in one of his songs in Merrily We Roll Along, old friends are the true treasures because they are there not for keeps but hopefully forever.   There are some people who are like those who pass through the revolving doors of your life but others stay.  And those who stay are your true treasures --- and not the temporal material things which you sometimes mistake as the ultimate gauge of how lucky you are.

Some possessions appreciate through time but they can never give you the love and comfort that true friends can yield ... especially at times when you need them the most.

I do not think you can find any sort of credible consolation hugging your Benz when you feel all alone in the world. And if you do, get the f--k out of my sight.

(4) I will choose to say "no" when I want to say "no" and not feel guilty about it.

Tama na, sobra na, abuso na.

I am sometimes surprised how I can still be bamboozled by emotional blackmail.  Or this Filipino sense of obligation, utang na loob and all that sort of cultural diversionary tactics.  It makes refusal seem so heartless, morbid or even ... uncivilized.

But it is not.

Again,  I find myself trying to please everybody at the expense of myself because I want to save face or look good and,  in the process, practicing civilized hypocrisy. There are moments when you feel you have to give in to requests because you would feel like a rectum personified if you said no.  As I said, more often than not, you fall into the same old trap over and over again because you do not want to come across as arrogant, snobbish ... or at worst, entitled.  More often than not, you succumb to your own personal paranoia AGAIN about what other people might say ... think ... feel or even conclude.

OK.  Enough of that.  If I feel it doesn't fit into what I want, then I will say NO and will not require myself to apologize ... or even be demanded an explanation. It is a privilege that comes with age and not stature.

There is just no more time for that sort of bullshit.

And finally...

(5) You have to make time for what you want as much as what you need.

Enough of the pressure of deadlines, requirements and expectations.

There is such a thing as creative selfishness and it has got nothing to do with this seeming obligation to hug the world and sing Kumbaya.  It is all about centering on your own wants while being aware of your needs. It is about self-love which is as important as all claims of altruism or wanting to save the world.

I must go back to that practice of reading a book every ten days.

I must go back to sketching ... which I gave up so many years ago for a variety of reasons.

I must really cut down on television binging because it has become an addiction that subtracts time for me to do other things.

Although I respect deadlines, I will not allow myself to be terrorized by unmanageable scheduling.

Most important, I will cease from endless trying to prove that I am still relevant because in the larger scheme of things, who really give a f--k?

In short, regardless of challenges and obstacles, I will try my damn best to make 2021 more than fulfilling.

I shall choose to be happy.

2020: THE YEAR OF LIVING CAREFULLY PART 2

As I write this, there is just a day more to go before choruses will burst into "Auld Lang Syne" not with nostalgic sadness but a sense of relief.  More so, a near-desperate sense of hope. Time Magazine said it best with their cover: the year 2020 with an enormous X ... not marking the spot but simply cancelling.

It was not even a roller coaster year: just one that demanded extraordinary care and attention.  2020 shall be the year best remembered when people had to hide their smiles behind face masks --- and, in the case of our country, walked around like cast members of The Mandalorian in an assortment of not only masks but also face shields.  The scenario was close to dystopian.  Whereas the previous year we entertained ourselves with a proliferation of zombies,  now we have turned into parodies of space men with the very air we breathe becoming the source of ultimate danger.

But not everything about 2020 can be all that bad.  It was not great but just think of it as ...it could have been worse.  That is the best position you can take in order to look back with any semblance of positivity.  Why? Because it was bad.  And it takes extraordinary effort to smile and philosophize while watching the world you knew and lived through all your life crumble then rearrange under the heading, The New Normal.

So that makes the Old Normal as the The New Abormal.  And that is depressing. Why?  Because I still want to have a bowl of steaming hot ramen together with my nephews in our favorite restaurants in Osaka ... I still yearn for the laughter and stories exchanged over dinners with my closest friends in our favorite digs here in Manila. I want to see my students in the classroom and not in little boxes as I spend hours in front of a computer monitor talking to an illuminated slab. I want to go back to the gym ... I want the hubbub and cacophony of malls ... I want ... I want. But it cannot be anything like that any more. 

And it seems like it will take more than just passing time before we can get to anything close to that.

So we say instead: it could have been worse.  Some people had it bad.  Others had it at its worst.  And here we are finally bidding adieu to the year we have decided to hate with hopes that when the clock strikes midnight, the pumpkin will turn into a golden carriage again.

But still we learned our lessons.  We realized that without seeing the good in all the things we have gone through, we will only live in utmost misery soaking on the tub of the bad.  So let me take this time to mark the final hours of 2020 by actually thanking the year for what these challenging twelve months have taught me.

(1) Clothes do not make a man when you are stuck at home and working in front of a computer. Now if I can only keep my fingers from pressing the ADD TO CART button in each and every online store that pops up on my timeline in Facebook and Instagram, I could claim to have achieved the wisdom of the Yoda.   Not the Baby Yoda but the crinkled green pea with ears version.  

Even at the start, I realized that I have too many clothes (Kasi naman, when you see the SCREAMING FOUR LETTERS IN RED that spells SALE, nawawala ako sa aking sarili) and too many shoes.  But unlike one of my nephews who believes he is a centipede with the number of sneakers he has purchased since he crossed puberty, I am just your regular boomer still trying to dress Millennial until I realized that ... wait, a minute.  I have all these rags and footwear and absolutely no wear to go.

When your major event for the week is a quick run to S&R to buy your groceries --- or that your idea of outdoor life is the GCQ-approved thirty minute walk around your gated village, you realize that there is really very limited opportunities for you to dress to the nines and impress people with your sartorial taste.

Your oversized t-shirts and housewear shorts purchased from Lazada can and should serve the purpose.

(2) Now is the chance to be that somebody you always wanted to be but never had the time to do so.  

I always (quietly, covertly) complained that there are so many things that I had to do so much so that there was no time left for me to do what I really wanted to do.

This did not only include screenplays and stories that I really, really wanted to write but had to give way to projects that I had to fulfill to keep the wheels of commerce rolling. But this also involves things I had to give up because of the erratic work hours I keep, sometimes shoving aside plans just to be able to beat deadlines and attend to matters in both school and filmmaking.

I remember last February when I sighed to one of my friends and said, "All I am asking is maybe three days of down time ... just three days when I can focus on what I really have been yearning to do for years and never found the window in my calendar to address."  Well, guess what?  Careful the wish you make.  The three days turned out to be ten months and going on indefinitely.

And I still do not have enough time to do everything that I have always wanted to fill my time.

There are the boxes of books that I want to read: there is a Japanese term for that. Tsundoku. And now it a choice between reading that book that has been sitting on your shelf or night table or watching the latest Korean Drama warranting buzz from friends who are equally addicted to this form of entertainment.

In short ... when you try to be that somebody you always wanted to become --- you find yourself still not having enough time after ten months of self-exile and isolation.

(3) Regardless of age, there is always something to discover and/or rediscover about yourself.

Confinement can either bring the best or the worse in people.

When you do not consider your home a sanctuary where you can be who you want to be for this is your exclusive space on the Third Rock,  then you are looking at the past ten months as incarceration.

But if you see the limitation of space as an opportunity to savor your "sanctuary" which is your home then you get to realize all the wonders that you can discover or rediscover about yourself.

I never appreciated my garden until I was forced to look at it since the spinning bicycle I had to acquire in the absence of the gym made me stay in the patio and glare at the pants while I am huffing and pumping away.

I never knew my neighborhood until I was compelled to do my other form of cardio exercise which meant walking around the village for at least thirty minutes four to five times a week.  I literally go around the streets, amusing myself with the variation of discovering more nooks and crannies of my community, looking at the houses and familiarizing myself with my corner of the world.  And to think that I have been living here for thirty-two years and I have never seen my surroundings in as detailed a fashion as I have nowadays.

And yes, it feels good to say good morning to a neighbor ... or a jogger, or a cyclist or anyone for that matter who is immerself himself/herself in the pleasures of sunlight and Vitamin D.

(4) Again ... regardless of how many decades you have celebrated in this present earthly existence, no one can ever tell you that you're too old to like, love or learn something.

There is this thing about acting your age, behaving according to the chronological order of the years you have been consuming oxygen from this atmosphere ... or leaving carbon footprints.  And you reach a certain point when you say that you are too old to wear skinny jeans or oversized shirts you can buy at H&M or those Korean style clothes purchasable online. Well, one thing I realized is that you really shouldn't give a flying f--k about what other people expect from you.

The quarantine has taught me to accept the fact that I got this far (so I must be lucky) and that the next few steps are uncertain (well, more ambiguous than the usual) and that life is so unpredictable, unchartable and unplannable.  What will happen will happen so I am going to make myself happen without having to worry what people think because I am doing things which are not expected from me.

Yes, I am a Boomer and proud of it --- because I am only praying to the heavens above that all these Millies and Gen Z-ers with their basta attitude will get to live as long for I plan to be around for another thirty years.  And having lived through the Beatles all the way to BTS, I know I have every right to appreciate and dance to I Saw Her Standing There all the way through Dynamite.

It feels great when you reach my age even in these times of great uncertainty because you already have the perspective (and hopefully the wisdom) to look at things from a far wider point of view.  Yes, I love K-Dramas ( I think Start Up and It's OK not to be OK are just terrific) in the same vein that I love Amazon Prime's The Boys or Netflix's Black Mirror and The Queen's Gambit. I no longer care about opinions about me especially those who make a living out of opinions or worse ... those who have opinions in order to make themselves feel better.

Despite the restrictions of quarantine, there is so much out there readily available and yours for the asking ... if you know where to look and know how to ask.

Being obsessed with what other people think of you is a condition worse than any Enhanced Community Quarantine.  That is because you weld your own prison bars and define yourself from the eyes of others.

And finally, to cap off 2020, I shall crown this blog with a cliche.

(5) I learned the value of gratitude. I learned to stop looking for what I do not have and gave importance to what has already been given to me.  My definition of ambition has been rebooted: it is no longer about how far I could go or how high I can climb.  It is all about valuing the here and now because life does not owe you anything: you owe the world something --- and that is to be appreciative of life.

Goodbye, 2020.  Believe it or not, I will say thank you.

Thank you for keeping me safe.  Thank you for keeping my most loved ones safe --- both friends and family.

Thank you for keeping my students safe.

Thank you for teaching us through the most humbling experience to make us all realize that --- well, mankind, you ain't such a big deal after all.

 

2020: THE YEAR OF LIVING CAREFULLY Part 1

Two more days to go.

Everyone is praying, hoping, wishing, demanding that the new year will be different and that everything so wrong about 2020 will go away the moment the clock strikes twelve and the firecrackers light the skies with enough noise to ward off the evil spirits.  

We wish it were as simple as that but it isn't.  It is not meant to be.  

We realize that when 2021 comes in we still be very much in the same state as we are in now, hoping that we are taking one step forward but not after two steps behind.

For all that we have gone through in 2020, we know that it is a year that we will always remember yet we shall choose to forget.   

But all that we have experienced ... all we have endured  would be useless, wasted --- if we did not learn our lessons.  

And even as early as last January we knew that there was something extraordinary about the year that matched the digits to point to clear, unfaltering vision.  20/20 was supposed to suggest that what is in front us is made lucid, perfectly clear because  our eyes are equipped with the right sharpness and perspective.  Yet this was what the year offered.

It would be senseless to list down the names of all the people we knew or loved and lost this year without reliving the varying shades of grief.  

Some of those who left us we have known only by name --- others have come and gone through those revolving doors of our lives while a few who really mattered in the sense that they were a part of who we are and what we have become.  The pain of their departure was emphasized by the fact that many of them had to die alone, isolated from their loved ones because of the threat of infection.

The cruelty of the situation was not only the panic brought by the pandemic --- or the paranoia.  The real punishment was in the distance: social distance meant to protect us from one another by keeping us away from each other.

We who may have taken each other for so much for granted are now punished with estrangement.  We are confined in our homes and made to feel like prisoners of our own sanctuaries. We are kept away from people we loved --- as proof of how much we loved them. We have become the carriers of the virus that can end the life of people who come near us unwittingly or with urgency.

As a result of all this, wee have consciously and unconsciously changed.  

Yes, we tried out everything to surive. But we also had to find ways to keep our sanity, to be able to endure the predictability and mediocrity of going through the monotony of days not to mention domestic claustrophobia.

Thus, we sought for diversions. We took up hobbies. We grew and appreciated plants. We baked bread and cookies. We glued our eyes on other people's lives in social media --- and spent days and nights watching Netflix and YouTube.  

Even if others were already addicted to K-Dramas years before, Crash Landing On You came at that perfect time when people were desperately trying to fight the Stockholm Syndrome during the first weeks of the quarantine.   

Suddenly people (like me) discovered the richness and complexity of these Asian dramas.   Yes, the quarantine has multiplied K-Drama fans by the thousands --- aggravated by the sad fact that a major commercial network was forced to close down.

Suddenly the ecosystem of entertainment changed. What used to fill our spare hours and our down time changed drastically because of social distancing.

Movie houses were shut down. People have migrated to the digital platforms not only in Netflix or IFlix or IWant or Amazon Prime ... but watching films and features in Facebook and especially YouTube.  The diversion of interest from commercial television was evident among those who could afford subscription to these streaming sites or have enough money to purchase data.  Yet, for some reason, the madlang people also diversified their interests and sought for other forms of entertainment. 

Even the most anticipated film festivals of both the film buffs or the sambayanan suddenly had to go completely online and the results were --- to say the least --- disheartening.  

The dissolution of cinema viewing as a community experience through highly personalized small screen viewing lost a substantial amount of appeal. There are films meant to be seen on the big screen and not on the miniscule limits of one's tablet or worse --- cell phone. But there was no choice and it was as simple as that.

In short, it will still take time and rethinking for films being streamed in platforms (and sometimes simultaneously with cinemas in certain parts of the country where they are allowed to operate) to provide a concrete model wherein the producers can make money or even stand an iota of a chance to recover investments.  

As of now, the prospects of investing millions in film production is near suicidal. Without cinema houses and commercial release and pinning hopes on revenue from streaming or the purchase of content by streaming platforms, return of investment has become close to nil ... not unless the producer has the patience to wait for years to make their money back through varied ancilliaries.

The bane of keeping industries alive is not exclusive to entertainment although it is one of the most badly hit by the pandemic.  Think of tourism, the airline and hotel industries. Think of what has happened.

Oh, 2020 changed us so drastically in a matter of ten months.

Out of need, those with access changed their purchasing habits online.  We never imagined malls to turn into caverns where only about forty to sixty percent of stores remained open.   It was (really) heartbreaking to see those familiar stores one used to frequent suddenly closed for good.  

Restaurants did not offer dine-in services for months and only accepted take-outs and deliveries, Thus a great percentage of their work force were laid off  and replaced by those dashing men and women in their motorbikes of courier services.  And because people have learned to eat at home with kitchen-prepared meals, socializing via restaurants has diminished drastically. Small restaurants closed down --- unable to deal with the extended challenge of rentals and practically zero sales.

Retail has plunged since we have stopped buying new clothes ( because there is really no real need to dress to the nines in a work-from-home situation) and downsized our lives because of our equally downsized income.

So what does this all say about the year 2020? 

That we must learn.  That we must accept what we cannot change but can be part of helping create that needed change.  That we cannot insist on going back to our lives prior to February 2020 because that is no longer possible at the moment.

More than coping, we must learn to move on and open our eyes to the options left in front of us.  2021 will not provide magic spells that could simply wipe away all the challenges we have gone through this year.  Rather it will offer even more challenges because the virus is still here, the vaccine is on its way (although we do not know when and where we will get it or just how much of it will be made available to us) and yet life must go on.

2021 will not be a walk in the park --- definitely.  But even as this year is about to end, we must work hard in making the next few months a bridge for adjustment --- and acceptance.  We have to stop all illusions and delusions of entitlement that we are exempted from the scourge of this ever mutating virus.  We are now suffering the consequences brought about by years of carelessness, abuse and irresponsibility --- and Mother Nature just reminded us of how insignificant we are as mankind in the larger scheme of things.

So what were the lessons learned?  They were actually very simple --- as they were quite apparent right from the start but we just never got around to admitting these morsels of truth in our reality.

(1) We are not omnipotent.  We may have evolved enough technology to put a building full of information in a microchip smaller than a scrap of one's fingernail but we are still fallible.  We can build our own Tower of Babel but as in the Biblical, reference, that did not raise us to the level of gods but only became a vessel for confusion.  Which is exactly what we are going through right now.

(2) Uncertainty like change ... is certain.  We can do all the math in the world, swim in our pool of statistics and data analysis but that is no assurance that things will go the way that we want it.  What will happen is what is bound to happen --- and this pandemic was something we already knew was bound to happen some time or another yet we never took it seriously. We were never fully prepared for it despite the fact that pandemics happen every one hundred years or so.  And when it finally happens, the sky caves in.

(3) What we considered important has proven ... unimportant.  All the material trappings we used as medals of self-affirmation have become irrelevant or all-so-insignificant.  At a time when the whole world goes on a freeze mode, when businesses are collapsing as other industries are paralyzed, who cares about what car you drive or ride?  Who cares about what you are going to wear tomorrow ... in your zoom meeting?  All the digits that comprise your bank account may still serve as a security blanket but when the entire system of the world changes,  for just how long can you cling onto what was before?

(4) Endurance must be matched by empathy. And compassion.  Now that it has almost been a year we have been told to stay home, stay put and keep away from one another, we have come to realize how important it is to have one another. Now that we have time in our hands and literally no place to go except the immediate periphery of what we define as our safe spaces, we realize how much we took our freedom for granted, how we abused one another by sheer intolerance or even evasiveness.  So hopefully we learned our lesson well: that we do not merely fight to survive this but emerge from the experience with greater wisdom and humanity.

(5) Embrace the change and deal with it.  What may feel like a curse should be treated as a challenge. Otherwise, it would be pointless to wake up each morning feeling miserable because the ultimate solution is still not within reach.  We have to stop counting the days before this is over but instead deal with each day at a time and making the most out of it by improvising, innovating and advancing.  Yes, there is the promise of that vaccine but what does one do before the time comes when one  is armed with protection? Hibernate and marinate in misery? If that be the case, then it is not the virus from Wuhan that will be the cause of death: it is self destruction ... or worse, atrophy.

Yes, we are all hoping for a much better year in a matter of days.  Yes, we can brainwash ourselves with positive thoughts, wear the coat of optimism.  We can all sing Happy Days Are Here Again but we must never lose sight of the fact that the battle is still raging and we are still plying that long unchartered road from the damage done in 2020.  We need to keep our wits about ... but most important, we must keep our eye on the maps that we design along the way.

We are being taught a great lesson about the insignificance of mankind in the larger design of the Universe.  We are made aware that single virus that crossed over from a bat to a human being has already caused the collapse of the world as we knew it.

But more important, we are being made aware of the importance of being better than we were ... and not depending on anybody: not the politicians and their endless tug of wars for power, not even the grandstanding prophets with their variations on eternal salvation. 

All we need is to learn the lessons ... and move on to the next step. Carefully, cautiously in the most human fashion possible.

And, yes, congratulations: we survived 2020.

TALES FROM THE DAYS OF QUARANTINE 4: THE DAY THEY CLOSE THE LIGHTS AND DOORS OF ABS-CBN

I am not going to discuss the impact the non-renewal of the ABS-CBN franchise has on the general public.  What more can be said about that that has not already been said.

I am not even going through the pain of knowing that so many of my friends have packed their belongings and left their work stations at the Eugenio Lopez Jr. Building as the network officially shuts down its commercial TV operations.  

Not only that: all the other ancillary business of the Lopez network have also ceased operations as the drastic streamlining of operations would only be limited to those necessary for the remaining production units to function.  That means Sagip-Pelikula (the ABS-CBN Film Restoration Program), various units of production and, yes, even Bantay Bata in the regional branches have been shut down together with the News and Current Affairs.

I will not even dare estimate a head count of how many people have lost their jobs today.

I am not only talking about the regular employees of the network.  I am also referring to the freelancers who also make a living on contractual jobs whether acting, doing production work for regular or special projects, background talents ( it is politically incorrect to call them extras in the 21st century), caterers, vehicle rentals, etcetera, etcetera.  Someone outside show business will never realize how many people make a living out of a single operational movie or TV set for all they see are the actors and maybe the director .  They do not realize that a single unit of taping can give jobs to over a hundred people in a single day.

Multiply that by the number of shows that are on the pipeline and you can estimate how many entertainment industry workers earn their daily bread from productions.

Those exclusively or regularly affiliated with ABS-CBN have no more jobs --- some by tomorrow, more even earlier when the franchise was officially turned down by Congress.

But the implications of this shutdown goes far beyond just the executives who were grilled in the august halls of Congress as kind of public purging to eventually justify the decision of seventy members of the Lower House.  The closure of ABS-CBN is not only about ABS-CBN but an entire industry --- and again their ancillary businesses.

Bluntly put, the shutdown has affected the advertising industry as well.  It does not necessarily mean that just because ABS-CBN closed down that all the commercials which used to be fielded in that station would necessarily go to its closest competitor.  That is downright simplistic thinking and GMA7 knows that as well.  In the age of the worldwide web, the so-called era of digital content has come even before the politics of shutting down tv stations came into being.

In other words, even before the non-renewal of franchise, commercials have slowly but consistently --- and now exponentially --- been moving towards alternative platforms for their product placements, announcements and events.  That is, it is far cheaper to put up commercials in the digital platform than commercial/free tv which reached up to more than half a million pesos for thirty seconds on a high prime time show.  Consider how much it is to rent a billboard or maybe plaster a humongous poster at the back of a bus (which has more audience exposure during the height of traffic) or even flash videos in LED monitors lining up EDSA.  Even before 31 August 2020, advertisers have already been moving to the cheaper and more accessible alternative.

This, in turn, has also affected the cost of productions of commercials as well. 

The branding pang-digital naman simply means the client plonking in far less the amount than what would be spent if it were for commercial TV or even as an attachment prior to the screening of a movie.

Maybe worse is the fact that the closure of ABS-CBN had to happen now.  Now means the present progressive of 2020 --- when, as I have said, the world is at the doorstep of a possible economic meltdown brought about by the pandemic.  Now is perhaps the worst of times for people to lose jobs ... not only the so many thousands cited by the network but the other businesses as well that depend on the productions.  The number of people yanked out of jobs is saddening but then this is not the be all and end all of the arguments.  Great numbers of businesses are closing down ... and that means adding to the cracking spine of the national economy trying to survive this worldwide catastrophe.

So what does that mean?

The funny part is that people do not understand that it is all about the economy.  Sure, we are so used to (and even excited about) the battle of networks for ratings --- as to who is really Numero Uno.  But at this point that has become immaterial --- since the playing field has been left to a Significant One and an Aspiring Second.  With the closure of one of the two major networks, that often overplayed battle between the Kapamilyas and the Kapusos has become somewhat irrelevant at this point.  The playing field is no longer even.

As a further result of that, network branding of actors and actresses may also cease to have any significance.  That is already being revealed by the rise of narrative series via streaming platforms where popularity is no longer based on network marketing and branding but by novelty and association with content.  For instance, the popular BL (Boy Love) Series possessing substantial audience interest features non-stars who gain their popularity because of the shows they can be found --- and not the other way around.  

In the digital world, the impressive stature of a star in mainstream media does not bear that much importance if at all --- because the digital audience is more concerned about the impact of content (in short term entertainment) rather than the value of highly paid and marketed celebrity.

Admittedly, the stars of the past three decades were products of network discovery, development and boosting.  But now with the kind of multi-platform exposure received by the digital celebrities --- whether they are the influencers famous for being famous --- or the celebrity professionals ( the chefs, beauty experts, comedians --- populating the solar system of vloggers, podcasters and YouTube /Instagram Tik Tok sensations), pop stardom is gradually being redefined.

Considering the cost of production, highly paid stars are no longer viable for digital productions which carry budgets barely half the price of regular mainstream products.  Again, we are plagued with the pang digital stigma --- which means much lower budgets and with reason: there is still no solid business model that can define how you can make money out of these materials not unless they are sold outright or for a period of time to a platform after a much wider release.

To reiterate, it is all about the economy.  And we wish we can remain hopeful as we see the kind of collapse and closures of businesses all over ... not only in our country but all over the world.  To make a headcount of the number of business enterprises --- some almost iconic because of their years of existence --- that declared bankruptcy is more heartbreaking than dismaying. Considering the way things are going, it is going to get worse before it gets any better.

What does this all mean? Why is today so significant in the landscape of Philippine media?  

Because of the short and long term repercussions of the closure of a major network in our country as the economy is taking a major beating.  Because of the consequences brought about by seventy congressmen who voted against the franchise because of  a citation of violations by the management of the network insisting on its moral high ground setting aside the backlash to the economy ... more so, adding to the already growing number joining the ranks of the unemployed at the start of an economic dystopia.

But again, I am looking at the other possibilities.  With ABS-CBN literally arm twisted to migrate to digital platform alternatives, could all these be a blessing in disguise?  Could the move of the network to find digital avenues actually usher in what has been long predicted as the scenario for by-demand, portable and non-structured short term entertainment ?  Could this fast track the growth of streaming venues --- with Filipino creatives challenged to redefine their narratives to a completely different mindset and for an evolving audience?

Could this also mark the start of the decline of free TV as less and less money is funneled into commercials which is the life blood of any commercial network ?  I mean, you can boast of highest ratings but if you do not have sufficient advertisers to prop up your expenses of running a network then ... all those sparkling digits suggesting audience share mean nothing. It is still and will always be about the money and not how many are glued to the TV screen.

The seventy congressmen did not see that ... nor did they foresee how a single legislative decision can and may transform the entire landscape of entertainment of the Filipino people.

As I said in my Facebook shoutout: we are living in the most interesting times. 

Abangan ang susunod na kabanata.

TALES FROM THE DAYS OF QUARANTINE 3: WHY "IT'S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY" IS COMPLETELY OK

I finished watching the Koreanovela entitled IT'S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY  more than a week ago but I took the time to let it all sink in.

I wouldn't want to gush.  Or to be overruled by a sense of amazement mixed with amusement at the ingenuity of those behind this series.  After SKY CASTLE, THE WORLD OF THE MARRIED (which was actually an adaptation of a British series) and CRASH LANDING ON YOU, I was still not prepared for a series like IT'S OKAY...  I was properly warned by those who saw the show ahead.  They said it was different and that I should brace myself for what some consider a game changer in terms of style and approach of narrative.

When you hear statements like that from very reliable people (which means not your textbook K-novela fanatics), your curiosity reaches a somewhat different level.  The truth is that you expect to be disappointed mainly because people have varying standards and tastes. The more praise is poured into the material, the more suspicious you become that this will live up to your expectations.

But I was pleasantly surprised.

IT'S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY  is nothing close to perfection but you have never seen anything like it not only in the universe of Korean tv novellas but in the treatment of sustainable season narratives.  This series only affirms the amount of creative investment placed in the conceptualization, preparation but more so the production of these works in order to up their ante of conquering a market far beyond the borders of their country.  As it is, Korean pop culture has literally embraced the Asian region: together with K-Pop and Bong Joon Ho (among others), their media products have become a principal export.  At the same time, the popularity of Korean works defies the curse of the subtitles and have turned BTS, Black Pink and Koreanovelas into the kind of food consumed the world over as sustenance.

You need a certain mindset to appreciate IT'S OKAY.

Even with the title credits alone, you realize that you are entering a completely different world: one that has been fabricated with a deliberate style, utilizing a vision that melds the real with the unreal.  The audience is drawn into the world of fairy tales as embodied by an animation style that echoes Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) and Corpse Bride (2005).  There is a certain darkness, a dreadfulness about the treatment of the animation --- Burtonesque, yes --- but more reflective of the kind of macabre elements found in the illustrations of the children's stories written by the main character, Ko Moon-Yung (Seo Ye-ji).

The framework story of the isolated Princess standing on her balcony and waiting to be saved becomes the prevailing theme of the entire series.  this is beautifully supported by the heart wrenching story of the brothers Moon Gang-Tae (Kim Soo-Hyun) and Mong Sang-Tae (Oh Jung-Se) as they navigate through their daily lives meant to prove how one protects the other yet how one despises the other as well.  In other words, there is nothing simple nor simplistic about the story.  OK, here we go: there is a great amount of intelligence invested in this narrative. 

Yes, intelligence matched with sensitivity makes the material unique and unforgettable to an audience that may have grown numb from an overdose of Korean stories.  But not this one.  Whether one would like to focus on the use of fairy tales that would validate Bruno Bettelheim's The Uses of Enchantment or the highly sensible and sensitive treatment of autism in the co-dependence of the brothers, the entire mindset used in the creation and production of this work is --- well, groundbreaking.  This is so because of its courage and sense of adventure to experiment with style, to use mixed media (animation with live action) and to venture into a kind of magic realism that is not even Burtonesque but reminiscent of the works of Guillermo del Toro. (Pan's Labyrinth, The Shape of Water).  

The audience is always reminded that this is a fairy tale.  The story of the brothers and the emotionally damaged writer is a fairy tale.  For how else can one explain the castle in the middle of the forest ... or even the evil witch of a mother who morphs into another form so completely unrecognizable so that the plot twist near the end is too fantastic to be real but not invalidated by its truth?  How can this not be a fairy tale when your heroine goes to bed in clothes and make-up as if she is literally a princess who has no hair out of place --- or dress too wrinkled to look immaculate?  How else could a story so sad and painful conclude with each character validated and liberated ... while remaining ennobled and memorable?

No, this is not a story of the real world.  It is a fable overflowing with moral statements without being in your face and using imagination as a tool to convey ideas without going into the route of the tried-tested-and-now-predictable.  It is a love story not just about two people --- but about all kinds of love which demands acceptance and even release.

OK, I can say it: It's Okay Not to be Okay is one of the best Koreanovelas around --- whether you are there studying the phenomenon or genre ... or simply enjoying all these shows like dishes savored and loved to fill the gaps of time at hand.  You laugh, you cry ... but most of all you remember the story because of its superb unfolding and delicately beautiful performances.  Hay, naku.

I am looking at the September 2020 releases of the new series to be released in Korea --- and I am already very, very excited.  The innovation and ingenuity of the Koreans never cease to amaze me.

Needless to add, it frustrates me as well.

TALES FROM THE DAYS OF QUARANTINE 2: MY FAVORITE PARANOIA

Worse than the beerus itself (or the economic meltdown that comes hand in hand with its spread) is the paranoia.

COVID19 is a strange bedfellow.  As one of my terminal romantic friends said, the beerus is very much like falling in love in slow burn. Ha? Bakit? Because you may be going around feeling it deep inside without you knowing it ... but spreading the love vibes all over.  At that point, I barfed.  I could not, by any stretch of imagination, equate this lethal invisible enemy into anything that is spewed from Cupid's equally venomous arrow.

OK, let's face it.  We never thought it was going to be this bad.  

If I remember right, sometimes around end of Feb, a doctor friend of mine said, "Oh, this will peak around June or July then peter off in August." Uhm, Doc: mali! August came and now we are hitting the six thousand per day level.  Just when our ASEAN neighbors are counting fingers, we are yielding four digits in terms that only the Department of Health can understand.  

I remember when this was all starting out and I told some people while we were hanging around Starbucks having a chillout time (an activity that has now been relegated to recent history): "All it takes is one motherf---r to enter Manila with the virus and what will follow is virtual chaos and an economic apocalypse.  Imagine mo na lang just one person riding the MRT or LRT with the virus at the height of the rush hour traffic?"  There we go. Nagdilang-anghel nga ako. And now this.

We have turned into such frightened creatures that we do not even want to step out of the house to see another human being not unless he or she is already a familiar in your very controlled little kingdom.

It will only be a matter of days and we would be celebrating six months --- yes, six effing months --- of self-confinement because we do not know what are the possibilities of sniffing that damn virus into our nostrils and lead us to the hellish path of a ventilator.  Can you imagine that?  Half a year --- and in a matter of days I will be hearing Jose Mari Chan singing about Christmas in your heart --- and I do not even know where the great part of 2020 went.

Of course I do know.  I have memorized every nook and cranny of my house, turned into a plantito, considered going to the grocery as a death defying adventure and had grown a natural fear of being near any human being who does not live with me.  I have not seen my family and my closest friends for half a year --- and one day I will not recognize them unless they come in little boxes with talking heads because my social life has been diminished into a scheduled Zoom Meeting.

Oh, but that is not ALL that makes this whole experience unforgettable and somewhat miserable.

It is the fear: the constant fear that if you really f--k it up, you're going to join the cesspool of statistics.  Yeah, the fatalities.  OK, take a moment and make a headcount of how many people you know have already died since last March.  Not nice, 'no?  Then try to listen to all the amazing stories about how someone you know or someone known by someone you know contracted the disease. Ah, that is when it really, really creepy.

Oh, have you heard of the senior citizens and some other members of a family infected by the virus because their household help requested for some days off when the first GCQ was announced to see her family? And when she came back, her pasalubong was the virus that was shared by the entire household?

What about the guy who barely went out of the house and had everything delivered to his home only to catch the virus from either a delivery boy or the package that was handed to him and which he brought into his house?

What about the panic that happened because one of the cashiers and attendants in a supermarket tested positive --- and was blamed for the infection of a great number of residents of an enclave in the burbs?

Or what about the office worker who took a ride in one of these transport vans moving around Manila ... which apparently barely practiced social distancing but which she had to use to get to work?

I can go on and one and each time I hear this, I get more and more paranoid.

And then there is this guy who always stayed inside the house and only went out once to buy a birthday cake for his girlfriend --- and ta-ra-raaan, positive na siya. 

Ah, ewan!

So as a result --- I have graduated from cautious to PARANOID.

For starters, I have been drinking so many immunity boosters so much so that soon I will leap buildings in a single bound and react drastically to Kryptonite.  Every morning and evening, I pump myself up with 1000 mgs of Vitamin C. In the mornings, right after breakfast, my line of defense is to  strengthen my system with zinc, accompany this with Immunomax Forte --- then gulp a handful of vitamins that include D2, B-complex, Vitamin E, etc. 

But that is not all.

The first time I stepped out of the house out of sheer need to go to the bank, I was so terrified with what was once such familiar environment that I was wearing a face mask and face shield that made me look like a character from a George Lucas franchise.  I was so scared that I brought not only Alcogel but also a baby bottle of alcohol, Wet Ones and refused to touch anything with my bare hands.  I entered the bank using my elbows to push open the door, right?

Even at home, it was a requirement that everyone who came from the outside was not allowed to enter the interior of the premises wearing the same clothes sported when exposed to the virus-infested air of the rest of the world.  Clothes had to be immediately removed, thrown to the hamper that was sealed, shoes were never to be brought into the house. 

 That first time I left the house found me undressing in front of very traumatized household help right there in the dirty kitchen because I did not want to bring anything from the outside world into the rest of the residence.  It was not like a virus ... but more of radiation.  The fear was very well marked, embedded and gnawing into your person.

O tapos how many times did I find myself washing my hands each day!  I realized that I am turning completely O-C because I would grab a bar of soap and wash my hands (counting to twenty because that is how long it takes for the soap to kill the virus stuck to your fingers and palm) each time I touch anything that came from the outside world.

I had this crazy feeling that the virus was just waiting for a chance to stick to my fingers ... not unless I keep on scrubbing and creating lather while singing Happy Birthday To You twice (because I read somewhere that singing the song two times covers twenty seconds). So it found it really had to explain to my housekeeper why she caught me once in the kitchen sink literally abusing a bar of Safeguard while singing Happy birthday under my breath.  The look that Yaya gave me ... was one of grave concern.

After being locked up for almost half a year, we have all changed.  And some of my friends have as well.

When GCQ Season 1 was announced, I felt more confident going to my happy places --- which include groceries and the plant stores as Quezon Memorial Circle.  And it was out of my social media-oriented self that I would post photos of "Direk pushing his cart in the middle of S&R"or "Direk waiting in the cashier's line"or "Direk and the Calladiums".  In between the happy reactions to my friends and followers came a deluge from particular close buddies who screamed, "Bakit ka nasa labas? Umuwi ka na!" or worse, "You belong to the endangered category. Go home na."

Endangered. Parang Philippine Eagle? Or tarsier? What am I supposed to do? Stay locked up inside my house until a vaccine is discovered? And considering what they are saying about these minadaling vaccines and the dangers they pose because they are not properly tested, ayoko nga muna.

Hintayin ko muna at tingnan whatever happens to those who will be used as guinea pigs with the Sputnik vaccine before I even dare go near that hypodermic needle. Malay mo tubuan nga ako ng third nipple as a side effect of this experimental drug ... not that it may be a real disadvantage to have that ... uh, extra added feature.

Yes, to a certain extent we have all turned paranoid.

I, for one, am very careful about the direction being taken by my mental health because of this paranoia.

Just the other day, after receiving a package I ordered from Kuya Delivery  I accidentally scratched my nose.

Then I froze.

I had not washed my hand after handling the package and the money to pay Kuya Delivery and I touched my face. I scratched MY NOSE.

The next few minutes was pure panic which involved a cotton ball and alcohol.

And I realized something. Your nasal track was not designed to tolerate ethyl alcohol. But amidst the urge to scream in pain, I felt assured.  

The beerus was certainly annihilated.

TALES FROM THE DAYS OF QUARANTINE 1: THOSE DELIVERY BOYS

 First and foremost, let me get this straight.

Times are hard. And as if I had to remind anyone on this planet living in the year 2020 about it.  Jobs are scarce and even the few ones left are slowly diminishing.  

All it took is a little over four months in this country and businesses have gone kaput.  Rentals continue but there is no money coming in.  Malls that used to be the mammon of commerce have literally turned into caverns so much so that when you talk, you hear an echo (and considering that you are still wearing a mask and a face shield while delivering the utterance).

So because times are hard and nobody prefers to go out of their houses unless necessary, other businesses boomed while others were doomed.  The delivery service is one of them: all these zigzagging weaving men in helmets riding their motorbikes in almost every street in the Metro since the strict lockdowns were implemented.

Well, why not?  The whole idea of commerce has been completely reconstituted with the boom of online sellers peddling everything from industrial quality chainsaws to kakanins like biko, pichi-pichi and kutsinta following Lola's secret recipe.  While disenfranchised workers have resorted to feats of resourcefulness (or survival) --- to selling everything from succulents in pots to kare-kare, lugaw na may tuwalya at bituka, or bopis, the need for the delivery boys is but imminent.  Whether you pay COD or through GCash or bank transfer, you still need Kuya Delivery Boy to bring the goodies right to your doorstep.

And since the quarantine I have practically bought everything edible and imaginable from Facebook Market.

I have ordered the entire spectrum of longganisas produced in the 7000 islands called the Republic of the Philippines.  Whether it is from Vigan, Lucban, Alaminos, Pampanga, Cabanatuan, Cebu, Davao ... name it, I have bought it.  Then there are all sorts of Keto conditioned peanut butter, cheese spreads ... pati na nga tenderloin, ground beef, bacon, chili sauce, four kinds of local vinegar.  Oh, not to mention the air plants, succulents, snake plants ... and my challenging purchase, a four-tiered pinewood plant holder na bitbit ni Kuya Delivery all the way from Imus, Cavite.

Part of the many great lessons I received from these past four months plus-plus is that all these online purchases have completely changed the way we are doing commerce.

In the Age of Social Distancing, the malls will remain like hollow caves where disturbing silence has replaced the cacophony of shoppers or even the sound of credit cards being swiped at the Cashier's counter.  Instead, you get these Delivery Boys who can provide you with enough challenge and sense of adventure and an understanding of the human condition.

Before anything else, there are certain points that should be established.

(1) Hindi madali ang trabaho ni Kuya Delivery Boy.  I do not know exactly how much they earn ... or what manner by which their daily take-home is computed but spending your entire day criss-crossing the cities at a time when exposure to people --- all kinds of people --- can be dangerous because of the pandemic, these guys must endure a lot to keep their wits about and focus on their driving.

(2) Kung sinu-sino ang nakakasalamuha nila. Whether they are the sellers or the customers, Kuya Delivery exposes himself to a great variety of people and they, in turn, are exposed to all sorts of possible conditions.  I feel somewhat queasy having to wear a mask each time I step out of the house and meet Kuya to receive the parcel but then that is part of the protocol.  You assume that he is a virus-carrier inasmuch as he assumes the same with me.  

(3) Hindi ito career, trabaho ito na dala ng masidhing pangangailangan. This is self-explanatory.  Considering the number of businesses that have closed down ... or if they remained open, the level of downsizing that has taken place --- doing a delivery job is not a step down the ladder.  It is keeping your head above the water.  I know of a lot of men (and women) who have joined the delivery service because they need jobs and it looks like there is no light at the end of any tunnel to provide better alternatives in the near future.  Besides, what is really wrong with delivery work? It is an honest job ... and that is all that matters. It provides food on the table.

But ...

There is an entire gamut of experience one gets with Kuya Delivery. I have tried to figure out what it is but (in all honesty) dealing with some of them can be an ultimate test of patience and understanding.  Di nga ba? Times are hard. Kaya let us be a little bit more pasensiyoso and try to understand that theirs is a more stressful situation that for us, the customers, who are just sitting on our derrieres waiting for the deliveries

Yet despite all these considerations, there are still these most trying moments in which you have to simply bite your lower lip as you try to deal with Kuya Driver.  It is not like each and everyone of them was sent to you to pay for some karma.  Some are very good, very smart, very sharp and very polite.  Some even strike an interesting conversation. And then there are the others.  

To make things clearer, here are some scenarios.  These are snatches of conversations over the cellphone when Kuya Driver either sends you a text message or makes a call.

CASE STUDY 1:

ME:            Hello?

KUYA:        S'an ba papunta diyan sa inyo?

ME:             HA?  Sino 'to?

KUYA:        Yung delivery. Taga-_____! S'an ba dadaan papunta dyan, ha?

(Teka, wala kang GPS, Kuya?  Gawain ba akong WAZE?)

ME:        Saan ka ba?

KUYA:   Nandito pa sa Ilaya.

(Gusto mong bigyan kita ng directions from Ilaya to Alabang?!)

Or what about this scenario?

CASE STUDY 2:

KUYA:     Sir, ikaw ba si Joey?

ME:         Ako nga. Who is this please?

KUYA:     Sir Joey, ako po si _____. Yung pipick-up ng binili nyo.

ME:         Ah, OK. May problema?

KUYA:    Sir, ano po ba yung binili nyo?

ME:         Ha?  Bakit? Tela.  Pang-kurtina.

KUYA:    Sir, marami ba?

ME:        (Sincerely confused now) Bakit?

KUYA:    Baka po kasi malaki, hindi magkasiya sa box ko. At saka baka mabigat.

ME:        Twelve yards ang total.

KUYA:    Naku, mahaba yon.

ME:       (Internally cursing) Nakatiklop yon!  Hindi naman ibibigay sa iyo yon na nakaladlad, ano?

Okay,  What about this one?  Again, in my fascination for bed sheets this time. 

CASE STUDY 3:

KUYA:    Sir ... may problema. Saan ba dito yung tindahan?

( Para naman kasing alam ko ang exact location niya sa Planet Earth at para ring alam ko ang pasikot-sikot ng Divisoria!)

ME:        Saan ka na ba?

KUYA:    Dito na sa Ilaya.  Saan ba dito?

ME:         Hanapin mo yung (name of store) diyan ...

KUYA:     Saang pasilyo?

( At this point, humahagulgol na ako sa galit, awa sa sarili at higit sa lahat sa tukso ng tadhana dahil gusto ko lang naman bumili ng tela for bedsheets.)\

Or what about this?

CASE STUDY 4:

ME:    Hello?

KUYA:        Nandito na ako sa labas ng village ... Ano nga ang address mo?

(Exasperated pero pa-cool pa rin.)

ME:        (Gives the address)

KUYA:    Ano ang number?  31?

ME:        Hindi.  21.

KUYA:    Ano nga ang pangalan mo?

Gano'n ang pagkatanong, ha?  Gan'on ka barubal?  As if kainuman ko siya ng Red Horse noong binyag ng kanyang anak kung saan ako ang ninong.

Okey, here is another:

CASE STUDY 5:

I was in my work room, writing when my phone rings.

ME:        Hello?

KUYA:   Sir, nandito na po ako outside.

ME:        OK . I-ring mo yung doorbell.

KUYA:    Saan yung doorbell?

ME:         Eh, di sa may door! Alangan naman sa bubungan!

or a corollary to the same scenario.

ME:        Hello ...

KUYA:   _____ po ito.  Nasa labas na po ako ng bahay nyo.

ME:       Ah, OK.  Sandali ...

KUYA:   May tao ba diyan?

(A moment of silence.)

ME:        Wala.  Kausap mo ang aking kaluluwa.

But this really bakes the proverbial cake.

CASE STUDY 6:

I was standing outside my house because Kuya messaged me that he was already outside my residence but he was not there.

He sends me a text message stating that he could not find the number of my house. So I texted back.

After around then minutes, Kuya arrived feeling exceptionally grouchy.

So I asked.

ME:        Bakit ka naligaw?

(And he answers me in a not so pleasant tone of voice.)

KUYA:     Ang labo naman nitong tirahan ninyo.  Ang hirap hanapin ng mga numbers.  Sabi mo 31 ... umabot ako hanggang dulo, hanggang 72 .... wala namang 31 ... may 32, 34 ...

( Hindi na po ako nakapigil.)

ME:       Eh, kasi nakatingin ka sa kanan ... eh, lahat ng odd numbers nasa kaliwa. Hindi mo talaga mahahanap yung number ng bahay ko.

KUYA:  Kahit na. Ang gulo pa rin.

ME:      Halika. Puntahan natin ang Village Manager. Gusto mong mag-complain?

Then finally this.

CASE STUDY 6:

I open the front door and Kuya's eyes lighten up.

KUYA:     Ay, Direk!!!  Ikaw pala yan, Direk!

ME:          (Smiling)  Ako nga.

KUYA:     Direk, fan po ako. Galing mo talaga, Direk.

ME:          Thank you.

KUYA:      Ano nga uli ang pangalan mo?

ME:          (Controlled pa naman) Direk Joey!

KUYA:     Sabi na nga ba, eh. Direk Joey LAMANGAN!

I rest my case.

THE PITY CARD

 Actually we should already be used to it.  The so-called Pity Card.

Every other time somebody of prominence or warranting media value is caught red handed with his or her shenanigans, he or she deals out her pity card.

What is the Pity Card?  Oh, bring out the wheelchair.  Look shriveled, disheveled, discombobulated.  Flash those tearful eyes for the cameras to see and for the public to consume.  In other words, go for public sympathy by feigning failing health ... or let's try the utang na loob trope by making people feel guilty that they are treating you so badly whereas you only wanted to help or you were trying your very best.

It is all about pricking the Filipino's preoccupation for konsiyensiya. Going hand in hand with that is pagpapatawad or the more casual hayaan mo na lang or a choice between Ipaubaya mo na kay Lord or Bahala na si Batman.

Well, reality check:  Sobrang busy na ni Lord sa dami ng problema ng mundo to pay attention to just another textbook corrupt/ambitious/careless/stupid official who has bungled it up and get caught with his or her hands in the cookie jar.  Or worse, Bruce Wayne has also been badly hit by the pandemic to give an eff about the consequences of our unconditional capacity to forgive.

Isa pa yan. I am sorry (said better than the last time those three words were spoken while addressing the nation after --- again --- getting caught) but I am not a fan of the whole forgive and forget kind of philosophy.  Sige, I will forgive you but do you think I will forget?  Will I ever shove the very thought that you tried or even ripped me off, lied to my face and given me all the reasons to lose all my trust in you?  Fat chance.

And please don't give me that sort of crap reminding me that even the Lord Jesus was able to forgive ... and how can I be so tough, mean and unrelenting?  I agree but you see Christ was the Son of God and I am not: I grew up in Pasay City, learned my street smarts in F.B. Harrison Street and Libertad.  How can I just forgive and ... oh, yes, move on ... when there is no closure to whatever wrongdoing has been done not only to me but to a lot of people? Even the whole nation?  

That, I believe, is not being Christian-like.  That is called being an imbecile.

Fool me once: shame on you.  Fool me twice: shame on me.  Fool me three times --- and I have no shame.

You can only forgive someone who has actually repented for his/her wrongdoing/shortcomings ... not someone who merely says so.  

The three words I am sorry is as cheap as I love you nowadays: they cannot be vouched for sincerity especially when muttered post-0rgasm.  

Or worse are those who are not even sorry at all, stricken by such epic proportions of pride to think that they do not owe anyone any apologies because they sincerely believe they have done nothing wrong.  And you ask me to forgive and forget and to move on?  

I cannot stand the Pity Card but I understand why it is so mabenta with Pinoys.

What with our love for telenovelas where the inaapi is the trump card of the bida and pagtitiis and pagmamalasakit are the pre-requisites to greatness?

Undeniably, we love the sight of people suffering because it makes us feel good to feel so kind.  There is almost an act of redemption on our parts every time we are nagpapatawad because it boosts the assumed nobility in our spirit as well as the plus points we earn in the scoreboard in heaven.  But it cannot and should not be that reductive.

I cringe each time some manipulative public figure  goes in front of the cameras in a foray of interviews using that pakawawa and pahumble look with matching nagigilid ang luha sa mga mata to plead for his or her case.  I almost find it laughable each time somebody accused of a crime or misdemeanor suddenly announces (complete with drumroll) that he or she is actually very ill, on the verge of death or only has a few days to live.

"Ladies and gentlemen ... may cancer po siya."

(Gasp! Goes the audience.  Karma, screams others.  Kawawa naman siya, muttered a number ang T--g ina mo! exclaimed an even bigger number.)

Roll out the wheelchairs, Folks.  Wheelchairs have not only become the accessories of the invalid ... but the mode of transportation of the cancelled.

How convenient it is to be rolled out in front of photographers, looking limp as an overcooked frankfurter on a wheelchair (perhaps attached to some medical contraption like a dextrose bottle) and to be caught in a crossfire of video cameras for the world to see. Kawawa naman me is the subtitle right under this deliberately pathetic image of a man who just happened to have stolen millions and billions. 

And with this fleeting image, our conscience has again be challenged to the limits of our Catholic conditioning. How heartless can we be indicting a man suffering, fighting for his life ... and perhaps clinging onto his last days on earth?  How can we even think ill of somebody all suffering ... to make him suffer all the more by our accusations, our vindications?

How can we even demand justice when justice is already served by a seeming punishment sent by the Lord?  Or so we are made to believe.  Or so we are conditioned to respond in a typical mapagpatawad and maka-Diyos na Filipino.

One thing about being Pinoy is that we have the span of memory of a mayfly.

Regardless of how ngitngit we are with  indignation, bring in the next scandal ... and we conveniently shove aside to the back burner and then eventually the dirty kitchen together with all the issues we deemed as so important because of the vulgarity of corruption and media manipulation.  And regardless of how mad we are at the moment, the next diversion will provide us enough reason to go into our self-inflicted amnesia and move on to the next highlight of the media circus.

In the meantime, it is our addiction to the martyrs of the world, all the suffering Pinoy telenovela heroines who equate nobility and greatness with resilience, patience, tolerance ... and yes, subservience.  We equate suffering with the key to the Kingdom of God ... inasmuch as our preoccupation of Romantic Agony almost makes us attracted to masochism.

So regardless of closure or demand for retribution, we simply shrug and say, Ipaubaya na natin kay Lord or Makakarma rin siya or worse, Bahala na si Bruce Wayne. That way we feel ennobled. Or maybe just forgetful, dismissive, defensively apathetic.

We love exercising pity because it makes us feel so good even if the whole point of the exercise is to make us all look stupid.

I am sorry.

I cannot take pity on anybody who I know is bullshitting me or swindling the nation ... regardless of alleged failing conditions of health or capacity to cry on cue in front of the TV camera.  I mean, that is so predictable: to cry sick ... or simply to cry when you can't get out of the hole you found yourself entrapped.

I still prefer justice, retribution and/or dismissal.

Postscript:

When issues have either been resolved or forgotten, by some miracle from the heavens, the afflicted individual suddenly becomes cured --- and the crying ladies go back to shaking their booties and partying.  It is much easier for them to move on --- especially if they made idiots out of all of us forgiving God-fearing people.

THE DAY OF THE OSTRICH

Putragis, I tell you!

What's happening to the Philippines ba, OK?

Just a few days ago, desperately trying to beat the rush of the MECQ when I am still allowed to take my thirty minute senior citizen walk around my gated village (Emphasis on GATED) for reasons of health and Vitamin D (Emphasis on HEALTH), I tell you ... I saw a squirrel.

Whatda---?! May squirrel?!  In Cupang, Muntinlupa?

I thought these rodents only existed where chestnuts roast in the open fire and where Jack Frost nips you at the nose.  

My mistake.  

A rat is a rat is a rat, bushy tailed or not.  They do not require four seasons.  When I told one of my friends about this, she who thinks that wearing Gap is beneath her stature said, "Really?  There are squirrels in ... Muntinlupa? I always thought they can only be found in Forbes Park."

Ah, there.  Theory explained.  Squirrels can only live in the tropics if they are in GATED villages. 

In other words, it is almost close to impossible to find squirrels in say ... Kamuning or Malibay or Cubao.  Kasi nga there are not much trees in those places not to mention that Kamuning is a hot spot for COVID19 and not that squirrels are susceptible to the buwisit na virus.  

Or are they?  I am not sure with my limited nine units of Science in college if bats also belong to the rodent family.  But then again, bats still look rats with wings, right? Whatever. Hintayin ko na lang yung vaccine from China before I theorize again.

Which leads me to the point that made me return to blogging after more than a month.

Today, the fourth of August 2020, is an extraordinary day.  

And I am not even taking into consideration the DOH-certified fact that --- wow, oh, wow --- we have more than six thousand three hundred newly record COVID19 cases just this day alone. Iba talaga tayo. Humanda ka, India. Top grosser na kami sa Southeast Asia ... but we will not be happy with just that trivial regional record.  We dream of being the top of the list when it comes to all the nations and even continents East of Trumpland.  Putsa, Pinoy Pride, Dude.  Today Asia, tomorrow the world.

While Thailand and Vietnam are back to enjoying their Tom Yum and Pho Hoa, we Pinoys are busy panic buying as we revert to MECQ as if the day after tomorrow is the end of the world or the series Probinsiyano.  It is as if we never experienced MECQ to realize that groceries and palengkes will not close ... and that the color of money will still be the same two weeks later.  Pero, we Pinoys make panicking a national past time, di ba?

And I am not also thinking of the latest scandal involving PhilHealth or why I need to convince some of my friends of a different partisan persuasion that dipping their disposable face masks in a can of gasoline will not make them reusable. I had to subtly, carefully and politically correctly tell them that even if an unleaded gasoline soaked face mask can certain keep the COVID away, wearing one for more than five minutes and sniffing all that petrol may provide another route to bring them back to the waiting arms of Jesus.  And please keep away for more than one meter from anyone who is lighting a cigarette, ha?

So what makes today exciting and extraordinary.

Because an ostrich made such a fuss among the netizens. 

That Big Bird got more publicity and attention than the return of the Queen of All Media to television or the travails of  Liza Dino in the FDCP.  Can you imagine that?  

You know that times are really weird when people are more excited about this giant bird running down the streets of a Quezon City subdivision (read: GATED VILLAGE) and creating such a havoc in the internet than the number of pandemic victims in the country ... or that she is finally returning to television with her own TV show after almost four years of absence.  What's wrong with us people, ha?

I mean ... onli in da Pilipins, right?  

Only here in our beloved republic do we have people actually keeping this ... exotic bird as a pet.  Right in the heart of the city. 

Said owner could have kept ducks, geese, fighting cocks, love birds, parrots ... but they had to have the ostrich.  I am still figuring out why: of course anyone can claim an ostrich as a pet but in a middle class village in the City of Stars?  Alam ba ito ni Joy Belmonte?

 And I dare ask, did the neighbors known that next door ... somebody is actually keeping these giant birds as pets?

"Mama, Mama ... ano yung ulo na sumisilip sa bakod ng neighbor natin?"

"Nakasampa sa bakod?"

"Hindi. Sumisilip lang ... malaki ang mata, mahaba ang leeg, kalbo."

"Ha?"

"Oo, Mama ... malaki ang mga mata at mahaba ang leeg at  ..."

"Anak,  tapatin mo nga ako. Grade Three ka pa lang ... ano na ang tinitira mo?  Bigay ba sa yo ng iyong Kuya?"

What I found extremely exciting were the videos of that poor creature running down the otherwise everyday street and with people literally freaking out at the mere sight of the unimaginable coming to life.  

I mean how would you feel if you are plantito watering your plants and an ostrich passed by?

"Mama, Mama ... may malaking ibon sa labas!"

"Lintek na! Bakit ka tumingin?!  Ang bata-bata mo pa kung anu-ano nang kabastusan ang nakikita mo."

Like that.

Or even that classic line overheard in the actual video: "Hindi naman lumilipad ang ibon na yan, di ba?"

'Teh, pag lumipad yan ... End of Days na talaga. Pramis.

Of course the more au courant expressed such fashionable shock upon sight of the video by saying, "Somebody played Jumanji." 

And the less informed retorted: "Jumanji? What dat? Kasama si Kim Chiu?"

But the more knee jerk reaction from the Everyday Folk goes, " T--g ina!  Ang laki! Puwede bang iadobo yan?" 

Somehow after four months of quarantine, you no longer know what is real.  

You suffer from a variation of the Stockholm Syndrome even if you are staying in a Gated Village to think that you are seeing African Wild birds traversing down Tomas Morato to order a cup of Starbucks.

So we had out excitement for the day.  The best part of that whole trope was when the Ostrich reached the guard house of the gated village and the security put down the barrier to stop the creature from exiting kasi wala raw ID.

We all imagined the dialogue taking place as this was happening.

GUARD:  'Day, quarantine pass mo?

BIRD:  Ay, sorry, Kuya ... naiwan ko sa balai.

As the bird nervously turned around to trace back his beleaguered path home.

Onli in da Pilipins, I tell you.

PS:  Later on, the Big Bird was wrestled down to a hammer lock by two of the Kagawads.  Yup, the humans won.