Memories of Green & The Coolest Chicks on Earth

What are cool chicks?  These are the kinda girls that guys like to hang with, dig their humor, hip, smart and of course pretty.  The ultimate cool chick example of back in the day would be Cindy Crawford. Bodaciously beautiful, foxy with an Engineering degree.

And we come back to St. Scholastica's College (SSC) of Manila, Class of 1987.

Prior to our 25th HS Anniversary I wrote a piece about high school freshman memories with SSC '87. Years later, it was unearthed again on Google by an old SSC friend. By  coincidence I shared the same post with another SSC friend while on a business trip.  

Memories of Green

Coincidence? I don't believe in coincidences anymore.  A classmate thought it was a good idea to scribble another one. So here goes.....

Sophomore year was a blur to me because I hit the books being on probation. I had to study..... A lot of things were going on in LSGH.  Some nitwit teacher got kicked out because of extortion charges - cash; booze and even a live peacock.

The next great adventures with SSC I recall was in junior year. 3-S was our sister class. We had interaction set with them at where else? In SSC! 

I recall that being in another notorious class (I wondered why always I ended up with the fun Motley Crue.... ), LSGH 3-J!  The notorious bunch that made teachers walk out, made rushing for the bell from Gate 9 like an Olympic event, the same guys that were busy cramming for Chem in the morning at Greenhills...with beer, to the tune of Rico Mambo.

3-J in Baguio

It is hard to imagine that our batch produced productive members of society. Some became professionals like an architect, dentist, a few became politicians, soldiers, pro bodyguards, many turned to be entrepreneurs and some just became good at what they do.  One even got into exotic dancing for a bit.  If you knew us  back in the day, at the time I am writing about, you would not even dream that adolescent retards like us would amount to anything someday.

Preparing for the activity, our Adviser Alma Rose and the Guidance Counselor Ms. Grace reminded us on our etiquette - basic stuff like brushing teeth, not farting in front of the girls. Y'know, the very basics.

Off we went.  LSGH 3-J in full force led by the likes of Dene H., Rey E., Big Mike D., Mel Lara, the Sarasolas, Noric, Donray, Rey E., Joey U., Lorex Yam, Jun A. and a very healthy Lloyd Dizon to name a few, paving the way to the concrete jungles of Leon Guinto, Manila. Across DLSU where most of us wanted to go in a year or so. 

We were good to go. Shoes shined. Plain white undershirts without underarm holes. Some even wore their brand new then trendy, synthetic leather, fungus breeding Bla-blas. Petroleum jelly on the head was so first year. The "wet" dandruff causing Dippity Do gel and fire hazard styling mousse look was all the rage for hair of 1985.

We ventured where the traffic was heavy, the roads were tight, to a school that was older than ours.  As I aged, I imagine how terrified our teachers must have been to have us behaving like a congress of baboons as we invaded SSC.  I think it was Ben Pablo or Joey U. that brought a gallon of that cologne Drakkar that we all shared right before leaving La Salle. The bus trip reminded me of a psychiatric ward in transit. You get the picture.

As mentioned in my previous post, I knew quite a few from 3S and SSC in general. Cherie, Freida, Steph among others. The rest like Irene Y., the future SSC Student Council president and others that I cannot recall anymore. (Hey its been three decades....)

And then it happened. We landed in St. Scholastica's, a female dominated school.  No men's room in plain sight. We met 3-S. We surprised ourselves by trying to be gentlemen that we were trying to be trained to be. Behaved. Polite. Speaking in modulated voices a couple of octaves lower than usual. We were black belts in the La Salle martial art of "Por ma-do".

Nobody farted, yet.  

I also remember that the Scholastica's nun was fairly young and kinda groovy. She seemed relaxed about us meeting her class. We were unusually behaved.

We had icebreakers, some games and we all hit it off. None were torpedo. Lorex Yam was leading the attack ala Spartan. We all spoke Greenhills English pare, ala Lorex.


Then there was that "getting to know you" game. I remember this is where I lost it. It was about describing yourself using the letters of your name. So the future SSC Student Council President/Valedictorian smart girl used $10,000 words like superfragalocious and other words like, uh, like umm, you know... the fancy, hyperbolic speed, space age types of words. She was a walking dictionary. We were just lexicons...of love.

My classmate Jojo (not his real name) then took his turn and described himself confidently and said something  like "I am Jojo,  J for jolly, O for Obedient, J for very Jolly l and O for very OK."  I was floored. Completely lost in belly up laughter. My flammable mousse riddled hair was disturbed. I had to retouch it later on. Jojo had too much "Drakkar".

The whole day went smoothly.  Our class kept in touch. Crushes were born.  Crashes came after.  Notes were sent to SSC and they wrote back. In fact, I was in charge of writing the "official" post interaction class note to thank 3-S for such a great time.
That note had our signatures. Right before signing and sealing for delivery I checked it again. Beside a classmate's John Hancock was a scribbled arrow in another classmate's  penmanship that led to a caption in all caps BOLD that read "Ang Batang Ututin".  I could not make changes to the note anymore due to time constraints so off it went to the concrete jungle world of SSC in Leon Guinto.  Cheggy has long reformed since. Munding recovered from that gastric prank, eventually. 

Someone farted after all, par avion. 

We ended up crashing the SSC HS Dance later that year. I remember  hooking up with 3S and the rest of SSC friends there and getting down to some Thompson Twins, those two nut jobs being Head over Heels and tripping to that Brit Hippie singing about installing microwave ovens and wanting MTV.  

What a blast. I remember hitching a ride back somewhere with Lorex and some other classmates and I am sure we did not go home. Was that place called Moviola, Spongecola or .....

That was just some highlights of junior year, the same year Marty McFly rode that DeLorean from, 1985.

Senior Year came and I resolved to hang with as much classmates in our last year. That was also a great excuse to crash soirees and parties with ALL girl schools.  On weekends I ended up losing the funeral parlor uniform and hanging with whatever class would invite me for parties or just hanging out. That was most of 1986 for me.

Most of the time I ended up with SSC parties. There was also this one soiree with SSC at Ińaki's place in San Juan that was another rockin' event. I met even more friends there like Bambi B.. When Ińaki came home, 28 years later I visited the place again and it felt like that day, simply nostalgic!

Aside from my native  4-D, my class was the entire LSGH '87!  Why, even the nerd patrol invited me sometimes.  Often it was Ińaki Jose, Vince A., Raffy Intac,  Harvey B. among others. 

4-D Class Night, Antipolo, nice shorts Asis!

We would crash SSC parties at Cris Abad Santos', Irene Y's and Margot C's places in the area near SSC by Singalong across Demy's place.  I also remember being stuffed at Dina Marie Santos' house. For some reason her place was like my own home. Overflowing with grade A grub! There were even times that we all crashed in the girl's living rooms until dawn way after Stargazin'.  That was eons ago.

Singer and SACB Pres

Senior year at LSGH. Soirees. The school fairs. A great play we produced. We beat San Beda in double overtime. I tore the late Coach Tatang Mendoza's pants when I carried him after that victory.  I hosted GALS and SSC sang "Ang St. Scho ay narito na.....", Going stag at the ball. Stargazer. Isis, ZigZag, Rumours - the song and the club. The nasal Euro-disco sound of Mike Francis with Gilbert Montagne', Shake! Body Body Dancer. Mixed tapes.  School. Friends. So many friends. So much memories. Life was and still is good.

Before the age of the internet, when we were in college, when regular mail took months, I lost touch with most of LSGH and SSC friends. I guess it's just part of it.  We all went our ways. I would bump into classmates or SSC friends here and there, at parties, bars or clubs but that was it.  I went to school with some of them. Some I actually had a chance to work with. Some classmates dated, some even married, unmarried and are still married to SSC '87 batch mates. 

SSC batchmates also became great in their respective fields. Lawyers, Physicians, great wives and mothers.  Like some of my classmates (wink, wink) some got into high fashion (Aaay!),  Last I heard, Cherie' still models while being a global venture capitalist. Some got in various lines of business, one even became a fuel magnate, many became entrepreneurs, some excelled in sports. Why one even flew jet planes and another flew Harleys. One is a fashion icon cum footwear mogul that sponsors polo matches every year and I get to go even if I don't play polo, pare (I only used to play water polo with my sea horse Lucio before he died.). All of them remains pretty to this day though.

Tennis star/Golf Pro

About a decade ago I hosted a few LSGH parties at my place. It was a start of our "coming home".  More years passed. Eventually I reconnected with some SSC friends as well . 

A Lotta LOVE!

Leading to 2012, our 25th year, there was a resurgence of reunions.  One of them was the joint Golf Tourney "Kulasa at Lasalista", a resounding success even to a non-golfer like moi'. The preparation meetings were parties in itself.  It was great to see Maya, Paola. Mel and the rest after so very long.


Strange. With SSC '87 friends I feel that years can pass without being in touch and when we do meet or touch base it's like we met yesterday.  The last friend I talked to was for like 5 hours over the phone and she was overseas.  That was like after 15 years of not hearing from each other. I just don't experience that with the few other female friends I have, only with SSC.

Party at Harvey's..look at Deck. 

Some still regularly invite me to parties  that I strive to go to because the company is always great and the food is also totally awesome.  Food and superb company is my kryptonite.

Walang Kupas!

Often I wonder why SSC '87 were really cool chicks. They always seemed so easy to talk to. No frills. True. They dug guy jokes, even the gross ones and yet they still had that elegant feminine flair.

Timeless...

Was it because they were the first bunch of girls I met? Was it because they did have "style" and still had their feet on the ground? Was it because they were fun and so easy to make friends with?  

Maybe it was because they were part of my youth,
my magical youth.

Longest Drive!

Walang Kupas. That was the SSC '87 slogan for their 25th.  Like Coco Chanel once said "Fashions fade, but style is eternal."  

SSC '87:  Timeless. Cool chicks, with style and attitude to boot!.  They will never fade. Walang Kupas, for sure. 

The Pilot and the Artiste'

In the same year Marty McFly rode that DeLorean to, the year 2015 this is pretty much my last retro piece on my high school. Someday soon maybe I can write about newer memories as we approach our 30th year and beyond.
As of this writing I am in Mindoro. Hosted by Irene Y., another old SSC friend for potential business opportunities. This is proof that friendship does lasts.

As I come closer to the end from the beginning, as the creaks in my body begin to need WD 40, as the hair falls, I still wonder what lies ahead.

So TRUE!!!!!!

I never married, don't think I ever will. I would be honored though to grow old, watch a lot of sunsets together with one from St.Scho, '87, coolest chicks in the world, since my youth, way, way before 1987.

Kulasa at Lasalista 1987 Wang Chung tonight!

"In my mind's eye, one little boy one little man, funny how, time flies. ...." -Smith/Orzabal, 1985

Check my other posts!
Serendipity
The Bodyguard
The Visit
NINAK!

"El sol se levantará mañana y quién sabe lo que traerá la marea"

I aged another year last Thursday.  46 years before at about 0800H my mom brought me into this world via C-section at a private hospital. My father was not there to see and feel the momentous occasion because he was a young Navy Lieutenant and was aboard ship that time.  The world rejoiced on that day.

I do recall when I was a boy, my Grandfather, a retired Army Colonel telling me how my dad was jumping up and down like a cracked up baboon when he saw me first at the nursery a few days later.  I think that meant to be a good thing.  I think.

Fast  forward forty six years.  30 years and a day after “Back to the Future premiered, the year when its sequel “Back to the Future 2” was supposed to have happened, hover boards, auto fitting jackets, Nike’s and all.

As years pass, birthdays become increasingly non-eventful. Quiet.  No more wild parties.  The highlight was a simple dinner with my crew and some coffee after.  Fewer and fewer people remember.  The few though are the ones that matter the most.  That is more than enough.

Almost half a century in and I am still alive.  Been in several fights, accidents, got shot, bungee jumped, got hospitalized, did all the crazy stuff.  So far, here I am still standing upright .  Man, when I was a kid I thought of people in their 30’s as dinosaurs and here I am. A dino myself plus a decade.

Each year, I usually pause and reflect on my birthday.   I review my little  lists - Bucket List, Happiest Moments and Blessings List.  Often, I update.  Mostly I add to the Blessings of which I am always grateful, add more times to the Moments and tick off done items in the Bucket List.  Strangely, though I make some additions, as the years pass the Bucket List does not seem to be all that long anymore.  I still his have to fall in love, sky dive, backpack Europe, date a black woman, become a standup comic, get married among some of the things still left to do listed in there

Also on my birthday, I add an entry to my blog. I also  usually go to a church to pray,   give thanks and ask for guidance.  Everything I have, the people I hold dear, the opportunities, the material stuff – everything was given to me by Him.  To add,  I truly am grateful for each day.  Life is short I realized.  Being dead is much longer.

Gosh.  So much has happened since 1969.

 

Back then, not everyone had a phone.  Smoking was allowed almost everywhere.  The air was cleaner.

These days, people are so connected its annoying at times. Snail mail is almost obsolete.  Same sex marriage is no big thing.  Everything is on Google.  Space tourism may be a reality soon.  Sperry topsiders are chic again.

46 years. I Forrest Gumped it this far, somehow.  I am still here standing.  Many have fallen.  Many that seem to have far more to live for have gone ahead to the great beyond.

Whenever I try to plot my life, I reaffirm that there has to be a God.  For only He can put me at this place at that time to do this, get my education, place me here to do that, to lead to this and so on and so forth in the “space time continuum”.  No rocket scientist can draw a line to plot anyone’s life.  We are all pawns in a cosmic game of chess. 

Daydreaming of going back in time is a habit.  I would love to have made some changes in choices made, lottery tickets I bought and all but that’s about it.  I can just dream about something no one can change anymore,   The future is what we can still shape.  We move forward to do so.

 

In retrospect, my life does have its share vicissitudes.  I look at the good, not forgetting the bad and the lessons that comes with it.  The good, bad, the not so good, the outright bizarre, my life would just be that is a nutshell.  A hodgepodge of all that.

Ces’t la vie.  That’s just the way it goes…..

"Anything can happen.  Anything happens all the time.",  I got that from that movie “This is where I leave you”.  I believe so.  It is all part and parcel of the adventure of life.  That saying made an impact on me not just in a romantic sense but the way I am living my life.    

 

The Spanish say "El sol se levantará mañana y quién sabe lo que traerá la marea" - "The sun will rise tomorrow and who knows what the tide will bring." 

My sentiments exactimondo like Tom Hanks said in Cast Away, “So now I know what I have to do. I have to keep breathing. And tomorrow the sun will rise, and who knows what the tide will bring in.”.

Succinctly put.  I keep breathing.  I push on. God knows what the tide WILL bring to my ocean of life.

Someone also said "Each day is a loan, spend it wisely".  Better get out there and tick more of those Bucket List items, crash those parties, cherish friendships.  We are all paying for that same loan. What if it was the last time for us?

 

Anything happens all the time.  Thank you Lord for all Your blessings.  Life goes on.  The sun WILL rise tomorrow.  The adventure continues.

 Like Forrest, I still run. Happy Birthday to me.

What a guy. Slick, sly and super-fly!

An old friend passed on a couple days ago.  

Leonard Pitcock was just 44.   Leonard was a man of swag, smiles and tons of fun.   Now this guy could tell you stories to bring the house down.  The stories may or not be true but definitely entertaining.  To have Leonard be a guest at your party would outdo a professional stand up, comic any day.

I met Leonard in the ‘80’s in a party thru other old friends like his partner, Noel puyat and Il mafioso Don Vito Sarmiento.  Leonard was so animated and told me about his war exploits in Vietnam as part of a Spec Ops unit.  I then found out he was 18, my age at that time as well.  That would have made him four or five when Saigon fell.  He got me there.

We hung out whenever he was in town from abroad.   My memories of Leonard are filled with his animation and gift of gab.  Leonard was like the “stallion” that he would often talk about in his stories about horses.   He was one of the very few Cowboys and polo players I met in my lifetime.  This guy could really talk.  I believe he could also speak Portugese, Italian and Spanish in addition to his perfectly fluent Filipino.  All the time with Leonard was fun.  He was cheerful, generous, funny and a man’s man.  There were no dull moments with him.    A few years ago, I saw another side of him when we hung out at Don Vito’s.  Leonard opened up to me about some things that were bothering him.  This was the only time I saw him weak, vulnerable and worried.  Leonard was human after all.  Around this time, I also set him up on a date at a friend’s bar.  I remember that night for it was a classic Pitcock performance.  Not only did he dazzleh his date, the whole bar listened to his stories about the Big House, hunting and Florida. All were laughing, enjoying every minute of the almost three hours he was “onstage”.   

What a guy.  Slick, sly and super-fly!

There was a simple service in his honor last week.  Leonard’s closest friends and family spoke of what he meant to them.  Leonard’s body was abroad still and yet there were at least fifty people in attendance. I was also touched by the priest’s opening for the mass.  The priest asked us to recall Leonard, reminisce how he touched our lives and reflect on our own lives.  He also asked us to think about what is truly valuable to us.  Was it material things?  What do we really value?  

I am glad I met Leonard.  That’s one thing I still value - being with cool friends like Leonard and the crew in this short life.  I only regret not hanging out with him more. 

Rest cowboy, ride into the sun, fly to the angels, on a stallion or a wake board.   Flowers will bloom in your name.  See you in the next, soon.   

Salud y mas amor.

Going Home. Then again, where is Home?

"Going Home. Then again, where is Home?" - A few years ago I posted this on my FB status.  Strangely, I got quite a few likes and comments.



I was in the hospital for pneumonia.  I almost died.  Since I lived alone, I would have brushed of the asthma I had.  I was at a friends resort and eventually his home with his kin when I discovered that it was not just recurring asthma from my teen years.

I had about 6 hours to live.



Strange.  That time of my life seemed trivial to many.  Trivial as in when I speak of it they brush it off.  I mean I had hours to live.  Hours.  Yet the people I talk to about this take it lightly at least that is how I feel.  This is one of the closest scrapes with death I have had in recent years.  The accidents, fights, getting shot were all far, far away.



In my mid life, I realized that we venture to the real world after school or our formative years.  We work in new places, away from family.  We meet new friends.  We lose old ones.  We live and yes we try to learn.



In my past writings I touch on this subject many times.  About going back to where you came from.  back to where things happened,  The old friends. Like the song, cheesy at it is we sing of memories, the good old days,  "The Way Were" .



Yet in recent times I have had another realization.



So I ask again, where is home?



Is it a place where you grew up? Your old school?   Is it a bunch of friends from school or your homeys?  Family?



At times coming home to old friends, even family those that you think bore the tests of the sands of time turn out to be less than that.  Yes, I am talking about people, family, friends, institutions, groups, crews that up until recently I thought were going to be part of my remaining voyage in life.  It is heartbreaking to discover even at this point in my life that some old friends were not really friends since, bros were not there before the hoes, kin was not first, crews were never tight and organizations I was proud to be affiliated with were not as proud to have me.

Which friends do you avoid?
  
In a few hours, I go to my old school for a reunion.  27 years before I finished High School.  It is one home I go back to.  I relish memories.  Meet the old friends.  Meet the true and not so true.  

Real Friends?




So much has happened since I walked out of that school.  Living and yes I am still learning.
I still go to relive and further cherish memories.  For the good still outweighs the foul.  Yes, in my life there has been more of good than otherwise.  More of smiles, laughter, love than treachery, hate, deception.



Living and yes I am still learning.  Ce'st la vie.  Ce'st simple' et ci bon.





Still I ask.  So where is Home?

This Much is TRUE

Funny how it seems.....

A week ago I was invited with an old school buddy DJ at a roof deck bar that my other DJ friend manages.  The place is pretty posh for my blood. In a hotel, in the nicer part of town and on top of the world under the stars, with a majestic view of the city lights.

A few retro tracks into my friend's set and we get a request by one of the patrons.  My friend's bro in law had a soiree  and in his gang there was someone that wanted to propose to his girlfriend and was asking if he could do it to a song by I forget if it was John Mayer, that Shiraz guy or some other band too young for my blood.  It turns out we did not have the material at the box so I recommended  the most overplayed, cheesy ballad that came on top of my head -True by Spandau Ballet. The guy agreed to it

This single is downright 80's cheese, still overplayed after topping the charts more than 30 years ago and after using my Google - Fu, it turns  out that this song has different interpretation ranging from an acid trip to a previous Holocaust prison where the band's name came from.

This song reminds me of my puberty having  been released  in my freshman high school year. This one played at high school parties, on the radio, when I sulked after a faux pas' with women or whenever I was in places with my "seaside arms"....  It's like the "Wonder  Years" series  but set in the preppy, big gelled hair, topsider filled '80's. This song played  well into college and beyond, as in last week beyond.

In the '90's PM Dawn sampled the track and added even more memories to that ever so familiar tune.  

Despite the interpretations I mentioned, to me It is a love song.  Period. Marvin Gaye references and all. This song played when I was with someone I cared for in the past and she loved it.  Again, another time when I recall the song it reminds me of times in my life,  like sands of time on a dome.  How good it was. How good it would have not been if the truth was not let known.

Back to the guy that made the proposal. He gulped a lot of drinks. And I do mean a lot. I did a short intro on the mic about interrupting regular  programming and dissolving some nerves, got down on his knee, whipped the ring out and popped the big one.  Flabbergasted in front of their friends, she accepted.  
I then congratulated the couple and gave them the usual Mafiosi wish of "may that first child be a masculine  child" and the couple danced a slow one to the song. Everyone in the place applauded.  There was a resounding "awww" from the other patrons in the bar. "Hu, hu, hu hu-ha....."

For a guy that never married,  a closet romantic and a retired bad boy, the site of such a happy couple struck a chord.  Looking at them dance made me genuinely happy for them. They were in love. I saw it.  I also know that the road ahead will be a combo of uphill, dirt, rocky, smooth and bending for them as a couple and hopefully as a family. Somehow, I share the optimism that emanated from everyone in the area that evening. 

As the couple ended their dance I was reminded of how touching and relevant this song was,  cloyingly mushy and all.  I suddenly recalled Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler flicks.

As for me, life goes on. Nothing is too cheesy for my blood at this point in my life....this is the sound of my soul and yes,

I STILL do want the truth to be known.......

Resolutions Revolution 2015

Two weeks into the year and as I am hung over from the commercialism, the pageantry and the bouts with loneliness, I continue to reflect on what I hope to accomplish in this new year.  My resolutions, thoughts, aspirations or plain stupid things I just wanna do.

Amid the hustle and bustle, I managed to squeeze some quiet time to think. reflect and ponder on so many things.  I also made some resolutions.  To name some are:

1. I will quit smoking after almost two years of being a chimney. So far, so good.
2. I will repair my home, keep it as neat as possible.  Repairs done.  Neatness is a work in progress.
3. Continue to live a simple quiet life.  Ce's simple'......
4. Continue to try to make someone happy in my own small way.  A joke, a cup of coffee a smile.....
5. Read more.  I gotta a pile of books gathering dust.  
6. Write more poetry.  Thither and yonder.,...
7. Continue to save and invest for my retirement.  Scroogin' for the future.  Build wealth. Save.  Spend on essentials.
8. Give love a chance, without pay.  
9. Let go of something like a group, or crew to achieve something else or to simply move on to other things.  Yup.  I gotta move on.
10. Update my Bucket, Thanksgiving and Happy Moments Lists.  These lists get so much longer as I age.
11. Continue to Love true friends and caring family.  Ditch the posers.  Love thos that are real.  End of discussion.

My life as a middle aging bachelor continues.  Farther from the beginning, moving ever closer to the end, as Morrison sang "my only friend, the end".

This year had its moments. It also had its low sides.

Looking back, I have given up on trying to make out the rhyme and reason for what I had to endure. I continue to do so but have also I accepted my fate.    I accept that it is all part of a grander scheme of things. There are good things and not so good or rather "challenging" things thrown at you in life.

I can only hope that everything will be alright, in the end.  Nah, I know so.  Our Lord is with us always.

Everything's gonna be alright.

Happy New Year to all.  Peace, Love and Good Vibrations!