A Celebration of Life

​I just came from a wake. I must say is by far one of the happiest wakes I have ever been to, ever.

The wake was for a scooter club friend of mine's father, lets just call him Cheffy.  Cheffy's father passed on last week. He was about 74.

Why was the wake 'happy'? 

Well for one thing the atmosphere was festive. Pictures adorned the parlor. Chef's dad was in all of them-trips with his family, the many happy occasions, his adventures in life.  There were simultaneous slideshows depicting the departed's colorful life and though no words were spoken the theme was definitely one of celebration.  The casket was flanked by his riding gear and one of his bikes....a BIG BAD ASS (pardon my French) Harley Davidson. 

And then there was the music.  Being a music buff myself.  I was taken aback as the melody of the Beatles, Sergio Mendes and other artists of the period serenaded the air via a real live turntable!  If there were cocktails being served, it would have been a full blown party!  The food was tasty and flowing. I particularly enjoyed the freshly brewed coffee.

With other club members I sat and chatted sympathizing with Cheffy and his family. Though the whole time, I was in total awe of the droves of mourning guests that kept on coming.   

Clearly here lay a man, loved by many family and friends alike.

Though Chef is an acquaintance I can see the love he received from his father and his entire family.  More than the finer things in life that they enjoy, they were a loving family that is loved by many others as well.  The material things did not define them. 

I already went there a few days ago to pay my respects, I had to go again because of message from Chef was relayed to club members that he really appreciated the support of the club in his family's dark times and that he was comforted by the club members presence. 

Humbly, the Chef mentioned that he had fewer friends as time passed and that the club effort was such a boost for him. "Few" is relative.  It sure was not a few in my book.

What humility he displayed. Admirable.

It was then resolved that we go again and in full force we were there. True enough, Chef showed that appreciation again.  I was glad to be there for him at that time.

Coincidentally, (Then again I do not believe in coincidences, only co-incidents.) Four years ago today I said goodbye to a sailor that went to sail his final voyage to great ocean beyond. My own father.  As when my mother passed longer ago, the wakes were photographic to my memory. I never forgot who were there for my family and myself.  Amazing how good that felt.  Long time friends and family being with us when we really needed it.  

Let's just say I know how it feels for Cheffy.

Chef I am happy to witness how you celebrated your father's life and how you showed him all the love for his last ride to the great highway beyond. The same place we will all ride to - in God's time. Your Daddy must be so happy and proud of you all. Riding so high he will never die, in your hearts.

I can only dream that when my number is up that I have a farewell like Cheffy's dad.  A celebration of life. Something fitting for a man that lived his life, loved his family and was loved back.

Here's one for our fathers Chef:

A Carpet Ride:Turkish cuisine at Bricks & Copper

I started last week with a magic carpet ride that brought me to the Middle East or at least a taste of it.  Meeting with a classmate I was treated to authentic Turkish cuisine at Bricks & Copper at the Ground Level of Dumlao Gym on Shaw Boulevard, Mandaluyong City.
 
Hungrily, I tried the shawarma and some hummus.  Deliciously authentic minus the excessive spiciness.  Both filled me for the day but I did know there was even more to come.  I was treated to Turkish BBQ and pizza that even got me more going on my gastronomic carpet ride.
 
I capped my meal with rich dark roast of well Arabica coffee that was  irresistibly flavorful prompting me to have another.
 
With what I had,  I can understand why the Turks were big, lean and strong since time immemorial. Their diet is grilled, simply in a roast pit with flavors and spices that are filling and makes you grow with all the protein.  At one time, during the meal, I imagined the Shah of Iran dining on something like what I was having.
 
 In a word, the food at Bricks & Copper is, as I said,  authentic. The place is quiet, the staff was friendly and the pricing was friendlier.  A platter of BBQ cost PhP 1,200 but it would be good for at least 8 people! 
The shawarma was bigger than usual and only cost PhP 90.
   

What a way to start a week. Meeting a high school classmate, meeting his friends, and making new ones of my own while literally breaking bread.
 
The restaurant is another hidden treasure in the metro, hidden in the heart of Shaw Boulevad worth finding via a magic carpet ride. They deliver too.

Another One Bites (The Bachelor's) Dust

Once of my closest and dearest of friends George is marrying his long time girlfriend Cristina in a couple of weeks.

I am happy for them.  They have seen the world.  Spent so much time and grew so much together as a couple.  This is as close to a fairy tale or a movie like "The Notebook"  that I can really say actually happened.

As I said, I am happy for both of them.  They finally made that decision.   The "plunge".  Something that though a lot of my friends are fortunate as well with their spouses, many have sunk to the depths of failure.  The global statistic for a marriage to last is 50% and rising.....More call it quits after tying the knot in this day and age.

Yet I am also sad.   This is the selfish me talking.  Another brick in the wall goes up (or down) depending on how you look at it.  Another buddy lost to his own family along with responsibilities, problems and yes....time.

I fear the future for I have lost many to their new families.  Such is the life of a perennial bachelor.   Another friend won't be there to hang with when I need someone to hear me out.  Someone to joke around anytime and act plain  stupid with just for the heck of it.

My closest friends have this sort of "tradition" with me.  I never took notice of it but I did after the second or third guy got hitched.  This is way deeper than the wild stag parties or "donkey shows" that girls think are the highlights of pre-marriage for men.  Before D-Day, my friends would spend extra time with me.  Out of the blue they would knock at my door to hang at my place, kidnap me to some faraway place for a cup of coffee, call me at random times just to hang or even just grab drinks anywhere.  Now back in the day when I drank like a whale, I was the one asking them out for out booze nine times out of ten.  For once, it was them that were asking for the spirits.

I guess this is just their way of saying goodbye to me as a bachelor.   I know we will still be friends somehow.  Maybe I can even be Godfather to their kids once day.  One thing is for sure, this is one ride that they go in with someone else by their side.

Sadly, ce'st la vie.  That's just how it rolls.  I just thought that as I age that I won't be as affected and by now be totally inured by it.  Boy, a 44 year old dinosaur does still have some sort feelings after all.....

I can go on and write about the horror stories of my friends that took the chance and regretted it immensely.  For some, the second time around was much better.  Some vowed never again to be chained by matrimony.  

Funny, but when  I ask  along time married male or female friends of mine a hypothetical question like "Take out the kids, would you marry the same person?".  I am astounded by the neutral to mostly negative responses I get.  Rarely do I get a resounding "YES" to these questions.

These horror stories make me cringe and reaffirm my acceptance that I am not of the marrying kind.  It sounds like a job that you can not get out from, forever..... 

I may write in detail about my other reasons for being unmarried in the future but for this one let's stick to George and Cristina, the soon to be newlyweds.

The holidays have just passed and I managed to skirt the usual "holiday blues" I get dring the Yuletide season being alone and all.  This marriage may just punch me a bit.

People change after they get hitched.  Whatever happens.  It is not necessarily negative though but nonetheless, that vow they take, the lifestyle and the new life they seek changes them.

I, on the other hand remain to be.  The loyal friend.  The perennial excuse for the wives when they get caught being not so good.  The third wheel.  Maybe that is my dharma, my purpose.  I was built for that reason.  Maybe. 

I actually believe so myself.

George and Cristina's day approaches.  I got my invite today, hand delivered with my name in an ornate hand written calligraphy.   It is on. Only one gear on this train, GO.  My heart feels heavy.

Though I am sad, I am sincerely more happy for a my friend George.  His happiness infects me.  I am proud to be part of this life event of his.  My sadness will pass.  Another one bit the dust but life must go on.

To George and Cristina,I wish you a fruitful life together filled with love and happiness.  Unlike the rest, I just know you will weather any storm that passes your lives, together. 

As Luca Brasi once said "May that first child, be a masculine child".

Congratulations!  It is a wonderful world!

Smitten

1.smitten

To be really taken or pleased by someone.

After a few dates with Rob, Sarah was smitten as a kitten.

2. smitten

the feeling of total happiness around someone you are falling in love with or, someone you are already in love with.

Sherrie was smitten with Johnny sitting next to her on the bus ride.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=smitten

I was smitten.  

I don't really use such words but yes, that is what happened.

Shy....

Hanging out a bar owned by a classmate, minding my own just cooling.   My classmate, the ever gracious host introduces me his crew at the place.  The last one I met was this woman called Katherine (maybe her name but maybe not)

Katherine had that magical aura, the kind that posses a gravitational pull.  Her smile lit up the place.

Boom. Angels DO fall from heaven.

We chat. I compliment her to high heaven (and mean it).  Katherine emits that radiant smile and get to know more of her.  She floats among her friends and all share a laugh.  

I am smitten.

Poetry was in motion (that guy "dancing by himself" was certainly  not).

The admiration poured.  Never have I in recent memory been so charmed like some kind of voodoo. Her figure was perfect, she felt fat. She sure did not look her age and was completely elegant.  Her hair simply short but still looked magnificent.   She was a mother.  A hot one.  Her smile was bright.  An angel.

In my age, it's gloves off for this rodeo.  No more of that suave, swashbuckling, sideshows. HONESTY. Lay it down and lay it straight.

So I did the cool swashbucklingly desperate middle age ninja maneuvers.  I  "swashbuckingly":

Cut her a line for the toilet, politely off course. Took pictures of her and myself, repeatedly reminding her of her beauty that she modestly denies. And the "crem brulee".....

I ask her out for coffee.  I even "swashbuckingly" asked permission from her older sister AND her husband to take her out.  I figured it would be the best thing considering an earlier incident where I was in the toilet and her older sister bangs the door calling Katherine, and was there all alone taking a piss.  

All attempts were in direct violation of the reference material "Debonaire for Dummies".  Pathetic.

I am smitten.

Together with another fine lady I met at the place celebrating her birthday I openly admitted to Katherine that she was the type of woman that will make me break in a pawnshop at 2:00 am to get a ring and its Viva Las Vegas if she actually asked me to marry her that instant.

Strange thing is I would have done it. In a heartbeat, maybe even twice on Sundays.

That was slick.  Whatever works right?

My classmate is hammered. We hang out at his place after taking his friend home. He even somehow directs traffic on the way back.   At his place, I stare at the pictures earlier.  It was real.

She was real.

And again I am smitten.

This experience is wonderful.  I learned more about myself.  At my age there are still women like Katherine for me.  The ideal. Maybe unrealistic to even dream of pursuing but definitely worth the shot.  I made mine,  I don't regret it.

I am glad to know that I am still human, capable of being attracted, and instantly at that to such cool women like Katherine. They actually exist.


All the words I spew, I meant them all.  Katherine feels that.

My bud the bar owner saw it and he believes it, plastered and all.

She is Heaven and I am Earth.   I gave her my contacts, I added her on FB.  Hell, I gave my contacts to her older sister as well.  I pleaded with her to let me see her again.  Pleaded.

I never got her number.  I sent her the pictures via email.  Sadly she leaves in a few days. I hope she answers.  I hope to see her again.

I wait.  I can't sleep.  I write this piece.  I miss her already.  I wait with a smile.  I gave it a shot, sans gloves.  It was worth it.

I thank God for this glorious day.  As my FB status read: "There is a reason for everything.  Angels DO fall from Heaven.".

Last night I met one.

A Lotta Love for Felizardo

A couple of weeks ago we found out a classmate had a bad case of lymphoma.   By coincidence, a classmate of mine, my doctor gave me a book on the dreaded disease.  All I can say is that the disease - Cancer, even with today's technology is a dreadful, scary thing to acquire.  Sadly, it can happen to anyone and at anytime.

My classmate, let's call him Felizardo has been a friend to me since we were in second grade.  I distinctly remember that his late mom Luwalhati succumbed to leukemia at that time, just  a few weeks prior to our first communion.  The school we went to took the entire class to the wake and we sang our communion songs for Tita Nini's wake. 

An 8 year old remembers those kinds of things.

As we were growing up, my own mother would periodically ask about Felizardo up to our college years.  Thanatophobic herself, my momma was so sad for Felizardo losing his mom at such a young age.

Sadly tragedy struck again Felizardo's family in our senior year. His father was a lawyer and active in politics.   In cold blood, he was gunned down after attending a convention.

I went through a lot with Felizardo.  We went to parties.  Met with the girls.  Did a lot of stupid things pubescent juveniles would do.  He was so generous, he would let me hang out with him at his crib back in the day.  Felizardo was loved.

Felizardo grew up to be a fine man.  He married in our freshman college year.  raised a family and is now one of the youngest grandfathers I know.  His eldest son had his own kid a few years ago.  Despite the trials he faced, Felizardo is complete.  Endeared by his family and by his many friends.  He is successful business practitioner and entrepreneur as well. .  

Truly he was the kind of guy the Irish refer to as a "branigan", a true chum to all..

When our class found out about his condition, the core group sprung into action.  They organized a fund raising concert with Felizardo as a beneficiary.  Aptly entitled A Whole LOTtA Love, the show had Felizardo's cousin, schoolmate and former Kundirana member Ogie Alcasid with his wife, Asia's songbird performed as the main act, gratis.  Felizardo's brother in law was with this band Shamrock and they opened for Ogie and Regine belting out classic tunes from back in our day.

I hosted the show with this veteran DJ, the very lovely Tina Ryan.  The house was full, about 80 classmates showed up.  Even more just bought a ton of tickets for the cause.  The show was a blast.   

As host we kept it light and we were on  a roll citing other classmates like the highly decorated Army Col. Demy Zagala, our war hero from Zamboanga that just came back from the front lines and Eddielou Arellano, one of our biggest classmates that head honchoed the whole thing.

The touching part of the evening was right before the main event.  A classmate that recently celebrated his birthday made it his birthday wish for all his friends to go to the show or donate to Felizardo's cause. Being a cancer surgeon, Leo Ona explained that there is much hope for Felizardo and that prayers are essential for his full recovery.  
 
Felizardo's wife Eileen, his mother in law and some relatives also said  a few words on Felizardo's condition and took the opportunity to express gratitude for the effort our class took to organize such an event.

The show went on. 

In full force, friends, family and classmates partied on for a good cause.  Felizardo's wife's pretty classmates were there as well. 

 It was so much fun I kinda wished it would last forever. Truly a memorable experience.

Now ain't that a lot of LOVE?

My Dad Goes Home 2010

My dad passed away April 23, 2010.

A usual, the wake was at BNS.  I was mourning and yet I also had that hurt of coming home with a dead officer in a casket from Palawan.

The arrival honors started.  I dressed up to receive my father at the church.  For a while it felt like my dad was alive and in active service.

The thing is.  I never felt any animosity whatsoever with the trauma associated with the eviction.  In fact, the place seemed so familiar but it just did not feel like home to me anymore.  just was like any other place for a funeral. Strange.  i did not even bother to visit our old house.

I knew it.  Finally I was over it already.  My dad passed away.  I had to move on.  I did.  Navy Village is just a memory.  A great set of memories.

The wake went on for a couple of says.  I entertained the guest.  fed the soldiers.  Did the ceremonies.  

A few months passed and we even had a small reunion at the O. Club.  The pansit still tasted swell.

The occupant of our house is now FOIC Admiral Abogado.  I met them at the AFP Brats reunion last year.  One sweet thing that Mrs. Abogado did was that she invited me to visit the house anytime.  I told her how much mostly good memories we had their as a family and my loneseme.  Her invitation was sincere. That was enough.  I never went back.  What a sweet lady.  She was an Army brat from McArthur.  


Like Frost said when asked about life, he answered Ït goes on".


We have move on.  Memories cherished.  But nonetheless we moved on.


Navy, FIGHT!

Still standing at 44!

I just turned 44.  Ancient.  I remember when I was a kid I meet someone my age now I thought of them as "jurassic" as in dinosaur.

Time does not fly.  I learned that as I age, it actually zooms!  There was an article I read in GQ about David Bowie saying something like time not going faster but rather we have a different perception of it as we age because we have less of it left. A year is 10 % of a ten year old's life while it is merely 2% of a 50 year old's life.  This perspective that I acquiesce to was further cemented when I heard a line in a movie about "having more past than future" in a man's life.

I think I do have more past at my age.

Around this time of year I normally get depressed.  I guess it is because I am alone in this world.  No more close family near me for one reason or another.  Friends that am really close to have been lost to their families, broken through the years  or were lost because they were never real friends anyway.  

Apart from updating my will and other instructions to my administrator (I take time to accomplish this because death is something I anticipate, anytime. Gory but it is as certain as tomorrows's sunrise.)  My usual birthday itinerary would be that I have an intimate lunch or dinner with close friends.  I also go to church to pray and thank God for another year of blessings.  I also usually ask a priest for a blessing.  It would be a regular thing to shed a few tears in the privacy of the church.

This year was quiet.

I took a trip to Leyte for a fiesta hosted by fraternity bros a couple of days before my birthday.  While we enjoyed the experience immensely, I also took time to re asses my present position i life.  Where I am and the direction I am taking.  All of this was done in confidence.  No one knew my birthday was approaching in my entourage.  I took advantage of some quiet time to go to a church with a miraculous Sto. Nino and prayed for my family and friends close to my heart, for guidance and thanks for all my blessings. 

I also do not announce my birthday on FB.  Only a few genuinely remember or get a wind of it.  Though I get fewer greetings from friends by doing this, I appreciate the greetings that I get because i know those people actually took time to remember or mark my day down in their calendars.

Strangely this year was quiet and i was not depressed.  I just enjoyed my day, thanking the Lord for all i have.  I have accepted my situation where I have all I need.  A simple quiet life.

It does not take much to make me happy.  No parades or megaphones needed to make my birthday happy.

A text from my niece, a call fro a nephew, a flurry of PM's from old and long dormant friends and greets from classmates in or FB page also made my day.  Some greets were a day early, some a day late but nevertheless they remembered me.  How flattering! One classmate even posted "

Happy Birthday to the CRAZY GLUE that keeps Batch '87 united! Happy Birthday Ting!! :) Health and Happiness always! :) ANIMO!!"

How sweet.  I felt so appreciated.  though few, the greets were sincere.  It made me look back to last year when my bud threw a surprise party in my honor,  Nobody ever did that for me.  There were about 70 friends partying with us on a Monday.  I also recall other birthdays...as a kid, high school and yes the college years...

No tears this year, just thanks.  I appreciate another day, another year of life.  Not too many get this far and yet here i stand, 44 years.

With the birthday wishes I realized again that I am solo but never alone, that despite those that do not like me, there are a few that does so intensely, negating those that find me repulsive.  

In my recent trip, it also felt so good to know that even at this age I am still capable of romance, "like a kid with a teenage crush on a school day".

No more bitterness, only acceptance and just gratitude.  Hope remains.  Still standing at 44, just beginning my life.....