Raising bad boys

It all started with a question I had four years ago.

Why is it that Filipinas are very good mothers, but often, they raise bad men? (Bad meaning irresponsible, immature, macho, sexist, unwilling to share time and effort as dad and husband).

Read the article here.

Reactions, violent or otherwise are welcome, as usual.

Another question I want answered soon: Why is it that we have those dang stinky pink urinals for men, and there's no need for it for women? Is it because women are more disciplined? Are our men toilet-trained enough?

Happy Tots, Happy Tots!

I took these pictures outside our villa in West Java. I woke up early on our last day and clicked away like crazy.


If you enlarge this picture, you will see that somehow the dewdrops look contrived. But nature's beauty needs no arranging and no human hand can make dewdrops look this amazing.

This flower reminds me of Angel. No matter how nasty people are to her, including me, she makes her pink presence felt (make that scream) in a field of drab green and white.

Requiem for a fish

John Travolta is dead. It feels strange to come home without the usual tiny splash, reminding me he needs his three little pellets of food.

I asked a good friend to babysit him when I left for Indonesia. Twelve hours later, I get a text message telling me my fish was dead. I guess "Staying Alive" as his motto was good only while I was around.

They say most fish only have a 30-second memory. That's why we keep seeing them fish in a tank seemingly greeting each other very so often. I don't know if it's true that they have no long-term memory. I don't know if John Travolta was one of them. But I hope he had good 30-second memories of me feeding him or gently tapping the glass around his watery world. I don't know if he liked being awakened by silly me, checking if he was still alive when he hasn't moved for some time. All I know is I have a good memory of how it was like to have him around.

Thanks for the patience, John Travolta. Those five months were more relaxing because I had you to stare at and feed at the end of each day.

Anong klaseng script iyan?*

Naubos na ang cartoons na gusto ko. Naglipat ako ng channel. Punta ako sa dating istasyon ko, sa siyete. Hindi marunong mag-interview sina DJ Mo, Ruffa Mae at John Lapus. Sayang ang airtime sa kanila. Mas naka-focus pa sa pagpapa-cute kay Bong Revilla si Ruffa Mae at di nakikinig sa sinasabi ng ini-interview niya. Lipat ulit ako ng channel. News na lang. Isa't kalahati pang nakakairita.

"Hindi pa rin matanggap ni (so-and-so) ang pagkamatay ng sundalong anak..."
Nyemas. Ikaw kaya ang mamatayan ng anak sa umaga, tingnan ko kung tanggap mo na bago mag-newscast sa hapon. Lagi na lang ganito ang intro. Eh anak ng tokwa, kahit alaga mong aso pag namatay, hindi mo rin matatanggap agad. Kahit nga ang walang kuwentang boyfriend mo, kapag iniwan ka, buwan ang bibilangin bago mo matanggap. Ikaw kaya ang mamatayan ng anak na kalalabas lang sa PMA?

"Mabait siya, maalalahanin..."
Nyemas. Lahat ng namamatay, mabait. Walang magsasalita nang pangit laban sa isang patay na. Wala ka na bang maisip na ibang anggulo? Milyong beses na ang soundbite na ito. Baka gusto mong magsulat naman ng bago? Tiyak ko, bawat buhay na nalagas sa giyera sa Mindanao, may magandang anggulo kung mag-iisip ka lang. Buhay ka pa, kaya dapat buhay pa ang utak. Paganahin!

"Nang mamatay ito..."
Nyemas. Wala kang respeto. Tao iyong namatay, hindi bagay. Bakit "ito?" Ang "ito" ay para sa bagay, hindi para sa tao. Isaksak sa kukote.

"Binaklas siya..."
Nyemas. Bakit ba "siya" ang gamit sa pagtukoy sa isang bagay? Mas inirespeto pa ang billboard (na tinutukoy sa linyang ito) kaysa sa sundalo na tinawag na "ito." Ulitin: ang "ito" ay para sa bagay, at ang "siya" ay para sa tao. Huwag tanga. Hindi cute.

"Nilagay sa..."
Punyemas ka. Anong klaseng magulang meron ka at ang tanda mo na, bulol ka pa? INILAGAY! Asus. At inilagay pa sa downstream graphics. Naman! Bakit ba nawawala lagi ang "i" sa unahan ng mga salita? Ang "i" sa unahan ng salita ay nagpapakita ng aktibo at sadyang pagkilos. Isinubo. Isinulat. Ibinigay. Iniabot. Ihataw ko kaya sa iyo ang walis tambo?

Hay. Ang hirap kasi sa maraming reporter, cut-away, stand-upper at extro para mabanggit ang pangalan ang prayoridad. Sa dami ng maling nakikita ng bata sa mga newscast, maari na silang kasuhan ng "crimes against humanity." Ang baba na nga ng literacy rate ng mga bata ngayon, sadsad pa ang pagbaybay at talasalitaang nakikita nila sa telebisyon. Pasensiya na. Nakagagalit na kasi ang kapabayaan ng marami. At ang nakakainis, may epekto ito sa bata na di pa hasa sa pagbabasa.

Liliwanagin ko lang: lahat ng channel na may tagalog na balita ay may ganitong mga mali. Sana naman pag-aralan muna ang bawat script at graphics kasi hindi lang basta nakakairita, talagang nakakainsulto na. Sana magkaroon ng mas mataas na pagtingin sa nanonood, kahit pa nasa Forbes Park o Payatas.


*Madalas kong sabihin ang linyang ito tuwing Biyernes noong nasa siyete pa ako.

She's a lady

The latest picture of my favorite little girl. Hopefully she and CJ would go out dating someday, preferably in their mid-20s.

She lives in London, which explains the hat.

She loves me, which explains why she's pretty and smart.

And those who would like to protest my last sentence can start forming a line. Preferably against a wall. To be shot. My shotgun, preferably.

Basa...sapagkat nasusulat

Mga kapwa bloggers,

Pasensiya na ha? Busy ang lola niyo. May kailangang tapusing bagong artikol. Pero kagabi, lumabas na iyong latest story ko. Tapos, kailangang tapusin ko iyong susunod kasi lalabas ako ng tinubuang lupa next week. Sasakay ng eroplano. Trabaho.

Syet. Ngayon ko lang naisip. Walang magpapakain kay John Travolta. At isang linggo akong mawawala. Oh no!

Once upon a time...

There was a wisp of a girl who became a doctor and left the country.

And then she returned and became part of millions of lives.

Read more about her here.

Day off ni 'Day

I took the day off today, the first time since January when I began working with The Center. I've been working even during weekends since then. Blame it on my being paranoid.

I've to start packing and moving stuff. I'll be leaving this place soon, months after the burglary.

Two moves this year. Work and home. I hope my new place will be kinder and richer. I hope it brings me to my ultimate dream: world domination. Err, unimaginable riches and the health to enjoy it as long as I can. Yes, I have superlative dreams. With my background, you can say it's what fuels me. Dreams. I don't run out of it.

Next time I pack my bags, I wish it's for a month-long vacation in my villa in Sicily. Or my bay area house in San Francisco. Ah, more dreams. Bonus na rin kung may kasamang lalaking matalino at gentleman para may kausap at katabi sa gabi. Otherwise, huwag na. Baka matadyakan ko lang siya.

I love you, honey

(photo courtesy of my Ate Dee-dee. She is mean.)

My sister says she's busy she can't send me new pictures of CJ or Brian or Tiger. They're all going back to school, all of them in the family, including my brother-in-law and my sister. CJ and my mom are the only ones not going to school.

Hay. I miss my little nephew CJ. I miss his eyes. I miss his pictures.

I just talked to CJ. He thinks when I say "I love you honey," our conversation has ended. It's funny. I hear Nanay running to the phone to catch it before CJ slams it on the cradle. Then she tells me to not say my four favorite words UNTIL AFTER the conversation.

I am glad my nephews are being raised with a lot of "I love you." That it's the last thing they hear in conversations with their mom. That they probably hear it a lot of times in a day. From me. From my mean Ate Dee-dee. From my mom. From their dad.

Hay. I love you honey. I pray you do better than all of us combined. I love you.

Unhinged

There are days it gets to me. The more I work, the more I discover, the the more people I lose respect for. It can bleed one dry.

We often look for heroes. I often look for the heroic side of each person. There is always that side. That side which, when fueled by intellect, can do a lot to move us forward.

The past generation had the benefit of the likes of Lorenzo Tanada. They had Jose Diokno. A younger hence more physically able Jovito Salonga.

I just lost one hero today. And it makes me sad.

Why is it that people who fought for their ideals in the past, in their younger days, are making ethical mistakes in their old age, just when money should no longer matter but legacy should? Why do they develop feet of clay late in life?

I have faith in this country. I am just beginning to lose a bit more of it every day.

Heaven help us.

Walang kamatayan

They say sunsets are passe.
I say no way.
It changes every day.
I saw this woman's picture in an old house in Bohol and I couldn't stop staring at her face. So refreshing. She looks so kind. Timeless beauty.
Born to a rich family in Misamis, she married a poor but brilliant lawyer. Fresh from the wedding and the boat ride from her province, she wailed when she saw the dismal house she was going to live in. She thought they'd be poor forever, the poor thing. They had lots of kids and lived happily ever after.

the end.

p.s. the house the couple left behind is a testament to her good taste. beautiful and simple and airy and classic.

Just for the sake of...

Just for the sake of updating this blog, I am reprinting an old piece on a timeless issue. Now back to my regular programming...


JJ's guide to domestic peace:

Never assume there will come a time you will fully understand us, and never assume we'll understand you either. Men and women were not wired to be in sync at all times. Repeat after me: it's not gonna happen. Never at all, else this planet will be a very boring place. But for the sake of domestic peace, here are my (unsolicited) pieces of advice that may yet earn you brownie points with women.

Date one, one at a time.

Say I love you only when you mean it.

Marry one, one at a time.

When we're yakking our mouth off over something that you did, just smile. Caution: don't grin. Then give us a hug. Don't say a word. That ought to stop some of us from yakking. Because by that time, we'll be thinking.

Tell us the following day, in a very nice, tender way, how silly we were the previous day.

Don't tell us we're getting fat. Lead the way by joining a gym and cutting down on your calorie intake at night. Believe me, we are bound to follow.

Try very, very hard, to appear interested in what we do for a living. Figure out what SOTs and MOTS and dissolve and libel check mean by asking us questions. Then we will try to appear mildly interested in what's under the car's hood, even if it sounds like quantum electrodynamics 101 meant for the Einsteins and Feynmans of this world.

Try to pick us up from work every now and then. We may not say yes all the time, but you do earn brownie points for future use.

Offer to take us to work every now and then. Who knows, we might offer to pick up your laundry.

Even if our adobo is meant for the toxic dump, try to eat slowly and appear like you're enjoying what could probably be your last meal on earth. Then (if you survive) teach us how to do it correctly the next time around. Remember: the life you save may be your own. (Geesh, I am having fun writing this!)

Sometimes, in bed, believe us: we just want a hug.

Be aware of our period and PMS dates. These are the days you ought to arm yourself with tons of humor and patience and determination to keep the world together, because we simply can't during these days. We are sore and in constant pain.

We know you're lousy at remembering anniversaries and birthdays. Mankind invented those items known as pen and paper eons ago. Don't be left behind. Honor the wise prehistoric men by using their inventions in keeping the human race sane. Write those smarmy dates down and remember what they mean. (It can sometimes be your sanity and well-being) Don't be an idiot. Avoid the couch by using the resources available to you. Kailangan pa bang masaktan ka?

Hold our hand when we cross the street. Believe me, it's not a sign of weakness but a display of caring and tenderness. And it's not gonna kill you, dammit.

Hug us when we least expect it. Even in public. But never in front of our bosses. (They are sometimes of the belief we have no social life. Let's keep it that way)

Lift the lid, dammit.

See those cheap flowers in front of those churches? Try to buy us some every now and then, for no reason at all. We will love you for it.

Try to say "I just want us to spend some time alone" and then take us out for a long walk, hold our hand and be there, be really in the moment.

Did you notice that telling us "I just want to hug you" and being sweet sometimes lead you to where you really want to cap the night - in bed with us?

There. I think that's more than enough for the week. I hope I was of help. Any comments? Violent reactions?

NB: I've never been married, never lived with anyone, never had the pleasure of inflicting my presence on any man on a regular or permanent basis. However, the tips here are based on the experiences and rantings of my female friends who are sharing their beds and kitchens with the opposite sex, and believe me, if I have a peso each time I hear their whining over the issues above, I'd be filthy rich by now.

Oh, the issue about the adobo? And about SOTs and MOTS? Those are mine.