Mission accomplished. One of the plans I had for this trip to Bacolod is to get myself, at least, into the Manokan Country. It has been years since I last set foot at this famous Bacolod landmark. So last night it happened, it was a matter of fate, it was a matter of will.
The idea was initially scrapped as my father tried to avoid being stuck in bad holiday traffic. He suggested that we eat at a chicken inasal place just close to the Shopping area. But the waiter has some bad news for him—they do not have isol anymore. It was no isol, no go so we were out of the place in no time. I was all smiles going back to our car.
Traffic to the downtown area wasn’t bad after all. Trip to the Manokan country was uneventful except for me making some effort to keep nanay’s old minivan from stalling. Yes, I was that eager to get my hands into Bacolod’s famous chicken barbecue against all odds.
It was not long before we found ourselves seated around a yellow linoleum covered-table where a pair of sinamak and patis (toyo for you Manileños) bottle waits. Nena Beth’s place was buzzing with activity. The servers are going back and forth, entertaining customers from one table to another, carrying chicken parts on stick to the kitchen and coming back out with plates of nicely done barbecue along with orange-colored garlic rice among any other orders. The smoke leaking from the kitchen that carries the lingering aroma of chicken inasal complements the experience.
All good things do not last though. Just like our isol on our plate. And to make it worse, the waitress advised us that they too have ran out of this delicious chicken ass. The other chicken parts were also good but the isol was our favorite—even Marcus liked it. The news made me realize that maybe that was the last good isol I could ever had.
There are news that the Manokan Country will soon be gone to give way to a new commercial buildings and the signs are all over. SM’s parking lot adjacent to the street of Manokan Country does not exist yet the last time I was there. SM is now like a giant slimy blob monster waiting to devour the Manokan Country. Let’s just all hope that the place would be relocated, somewhere easier to access, so that we continue to experience and taste Bacolod’s authentic chicken inasal.
Us and the last isol on stick.
***
Mood: 3/10 Honks! (If only I could extend this vacation more.)
I like Christmas but I have been anti-Christmas tree. This year I survived another begging from wifey to buy one as, to reiterate same statement I say every year, I find it a waste of money and that I would feel guilty staring at a new Christmas tree when I could have used it for charity or something more important.
I am no Grinch, however. (This is where I expect to see people, including wifey, raise their eyebrows.) I don’t sneak into Christmas trees and secretly breaks it. I am a kid at heart whenever I see the sight of Christmas trees at the malls and someone other houses. I am just not ready, nor could afford, to buy our own.
It does not mean though that I couldn’t or wouldn’t build one. In fact, wifey and I made one again. Thanks to the stash of empty Berocca–more than a year’s worth–canisters I kept up the ceiling a new Christmas tree is born. The past years we built one made of badminton shuttlecocks which we used for more than three Decembers.
I love Berocca that I find it hard to throw even the empty canisters.
We must always remember that Christmas will always be Christmas with or without a Christmas tree. There are always ways to feel the spirit of the yuletide season and the more we understand that it should come from within and shared with the others the better it will be.
Merry Christmas everyone!
It takes a glue stick, some creativity and a patient wifey.
***
Early this year I stopped using Berocca to try out two products being endorsed, forced may be appropriate, by wifey. Berocca was something hard to let go as I personally find it an effective supplement so I had hesitations welcoming Royale’s Spirulina and Performax into my routine. We even had to compare side by side the content of Berocca versus Spirulina and based on supplement facts Berocca wins. Anyway, to cut the story short, I gave Spirulina plus Performax a try and surprisingly I adapted to it. I use Performax when I go to the gym and I can attest to its potency. On top of my other routines I can now do two sets each of 50-lbs dumbbell flat and incline press. Placebo? Who cares.
***
It’s eight more days before our diet will be tested and fifteen more days before we realize our resolution to lose weight has failed.
***
Mood: 3/10 Honks! (The gym has not replied, looks like they’re closed when signal # 2 typhoon strikes.)
Legos block Shell’s Arctic drilling. (Image from The Guardian)
It’s not entirely true though for our son.
Well, naughty or nice, Marcus got one this December from Santa Claus. It’s from the Santa Claus who bought the stuffs last year and waited for the right moment when he runs out of idea on what to give next. And it happened.
Yesterday, Santa skipped our home, or didn’t get the opportunity to sneak his way to Marcus’ red sock, so this morning he makes up for it with an F12 Berlinetta.
A Lambo from Petron, a Ferrari from Shell.
I don’t know if Santa still has more left but I heard Mrs. Claus said there’s one more. Let’s see what Marcus gets in the next days.
***
There is good news. Shell Corp. eventually pulled out its Arctic drilling activities after realizing there is no long term potential in the area or probably after encountering radical Santa’s elves who got annoyed by the noise and threatened a lifetime of zero gifts for the sons and daughters of all Shell employees. Now we wonder if we will soon see the return of Lego-Shell partnership. Make the answer ‘yes’ please.
Happening again in 2016?
***
Mood: 2/10 Honks! (The building game begins tomorrow. This isn’t Minecraft this time but it could like a villager’s house.)
“I’ll give you 5 minutes to yourself, but only 10 seconds at a time.”-kids (via Twitter)
Do I have time? Such is the question that would linger every now and then. Among other things, time management is the toughest. Time they say is the great equalizer because everyone, regardless of status, has only 24 hours each day to spend. Yes, rich or poor, black or white, young or old, fat or thin, healthy or not, just 24 hours each—what differs is what is at stake for each minute lost. Extra time in reality does not exist and it won’t be a surprise if someone would wish if only they could buy time that the others won’t use. But then again, we can’t. Even Donald Trump can’t.
Do I have time? Take note of ‘I.’ I for individual, I for me. Sadly, we are not alone and time is not ours all the time. Our jobs, bosses—bad bosses included, relatives, neighbors, friends, parents, wife, and kids, in no particular order, want either a small piece or a big chunk of our 24 hours. It takes a bit of skill, a bit of negotiation, a bit of luck, and a lot of sacrifice to manage time.
Even the holidays do not present total freedom. Unless you get to escape, if your personality and lifestyle permit you to do so, and isolate yourself to enjoy the whole day on your own—half of it I would spend in bed—you have at least one or two other people whom you need to spend time with.
This week I have that opportunity to enjoy the much-awaited time off. Thanks to the Americans who would ignore repeated and annoying rings and trade all business calls for a time together with their family and friends in front of their favorite roasted turkey and beer. Thanks to Thanksgiving Day, I have time to be just at home. No late night drives for two days. How to spend the next days is another matter but we’ll see. There’s iflix, there’s Minecraft and Call of Duty, there’s errand to the grocery store, there are things to pack, there’s a birthday to celebrate.
***
Mood: 2/10 Honks! (Waiting for Marcus’ plan of the day.)
The two front teeth had to go. At the age of seven, Marcus’ set of teeth had been all strong, almost perfect, with no sign of degrading until one day my wife found one new tooth coming out behind his upper front teeth. So yesterday, the two front milk teeth finally got extracted to let the new one take its normal place.
Just like his first trip to the same dentist, no tear whatsoever was shed on his first teeth extraction. Props to the pediatric dentist who took time to explain to Marcus on what to expect during the whole process—that’s on top of our similar discussion while on our way to the dentist’s clinic inside the SM mall. It would have been a better if his cashier gave us PWD discount.
Missing teeth, yes. Charm, no.
The experience was more awkward than painful for Marcus as he wouldn’t want to be seen toothless in school. The good news, or bad news, he won’t be inside a classroom together with his classmates anymore.
It was Monday, last week of October, when he asked us if he could stop going to school. We saw it coming as we observed lately that he finds it more difficult to wake up, let alone rise on his own but we decided to wait until he tells us about it because we can see back then that he still likes being in school despite his condition. While his request made it official that there will be no more sleepy trips to school, for both of us, his teacher and the school’s principal were kind enough to allow him continue studying at home if he wants to. Last week he took his last exam and said goodbye to his classmates. Most of them cried, yes, including the boys and his teachers.
Look ma, no hands! (He was Batman last Halloween but unfortunately we arrived late and did not catch the villains, I mean, his classmates.)
With the absence of worries about grades, something easily took over his study period. Minecraft. Other than his XBox, Marcus now has his Minecraft PC. This PC version of the sandbox game is actually a whole lot better than its XBox 360 counterpart as there are free maps and mods that can be downloaded and installed. Surprisingly, in a matter of weeks since I purchased this game as a reward for his good grades in school, he can already install the mods and maps by himself. He was quick to learn to remember and type the path AppData.minecraftsaves (and mods where he can extract his mods) to install his maps. Well, it lasted until he broke the HP laptop keyboard’s S key, and X, and A, and a couple of other frequently used game keys. So just like his two front teeth, he lost his HP laptop. The latter should teach him a lesson to control his emotions, to take good care of his prized–in this case, pricey–possessions.
To be honest, parenting Marcus is now tougher. A whole lot tougher, trust me. We figured that ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ approach is now out of the question. Disciplining him has to be done the other way and sometimes it gets frustrating. The heart and muscles of kids with DMD are sensitive and are degrading faster over time. This means that we are doing our best not to upset Marcus. We do our very best not to make him trip or fall, we don’t want him to stress nor hurt his muscles and even his heart and especially his emotions. So how do you parent a child with such condition, one whose body is frail but with a personality so strong? Sometimes I wish it’s the other way around.
If the tooth extraction went well, as if nothing happened, the recent blood extraction result was the complete opposite. While he seem able to take the pain of the pierce of a needle, we soon found out that Marcus’ dystrophin is leaking wildly relative to normal level, and it is worse than before. In April this year we were looking at 15,000 U/L and in October it has elevated to 30,000 U/L. The normal level is 150-150 units per liter (U/L). It’s that bad and the current dosage of CoQ10 and Alpha Lipoic Acid supplements seem to be of no help. If only there’s a way to patch up this one. This Christmas we all want more than just his two front teeth.
***
We just learned that our version of Mrs. Wilson is sick and in the hospital. Get well soon, from Marcus a.k.a your Dennis The Menace.
***
Mood: 3/10 Honks! (I don’t know if I should be happy to once again skip the opportunity to watch this Everyday I love You movie with wifey.)
The charm of a movie does not always have to be based on hype but sometimes it is on how an audience relates to it. Sometimes it is both and when that happens it becomes one worthy movie to watch. This is the case for the movie Goosebumps which we first learned from Marcus, thanks to YouTube.
Goosebumps is a movie based on a popular book and TV series back in the days when its present young fans like our son weren’t around yet and when TV were showing more entertaining and intelligent shows. Fortunately for us there is the trusty Hollywood that allows us to reminisce the good old days while seated beside our ever curious children and as we blindly dig our hands into same cheesy popcorn bucket.
What I personally like about Goosebumps is its appeal to people who like to read and write regardless of skill. As a so-called blogger, it never ceases to amaze me how an author’s imagination could be translated into words, into sentences, into paragraphs, into pages, and finally into a book with a plot that is entertaining, interesting and more importantly, one that millions of readers could very well relate to.
We believe in monsters.
For moviegoers as young as Marcus, the idea of monsters becoming real may be something new. Goosebumps, however, surely isn’t the first to show monsters coming out of books. Do not ask me to cite examples as I am bad in recalling movie titles but I just know that there have been others ahead of Goosebumps yet it does not mean that all is lost.
For one, it is worth noting the presence of the actor Jack Black as one of the main casts. Like his previous roles in movies like School of Rock and Nacho Libre, Jack Black continues to prove that he is among the top actors not just for comic relief but also when there is a need to inject the element of mystery. In the movie Jack Black plays the role of R.L. Stine who is the original author of the Goosebumps series that became popular in the 90s. The movie’s story goes that R.L. Stine was once outcast—could be true in real life—who isolated himself from the bullies of society and, eventually, in the confines of his room wrote stories that have monsters in it. He wrote so much stories of the same genre that he has lost count how many monsters he has created which later on became too much to handle when everything got out of his books and terrorized a sleepy village in Madison, Delaware.
Goosebumps should also remind us that there were times when authors spend endless nights on their typewriters—or others still do?—to create that one story that would soon make it into the bookshelves and bed sides around the world. Yes, the typewriter, the machine, that makes weird mechanical noise that could be very well mistaken as monsters by kids of the touchscreen age.
What fascinates me about people like R.L. Stine and even Stephen King is their influence. They create stories to escape reality, their readers read to escape the same reality—and others would even be so inspired that they become good writers in their own right. Let us not forget, however, whether we like it or not, that reality bites—literally and figuratively. That there aren’t really monsters, that fantasy has its end, and that the last page exists.
The good news, as R.L Stine said in the movie, “there are three elements in my stories, the start, the end, and the twist.” True enough just when everything seems to be cliché, good guys beat bad guys, Goosebumps makes its audience look forward to something until its next installment returns, until we see the invisible boy. We now crave for more.
***
In hindsight, there are real monsters in our midst. Some in the form of bad politicians, bad traffic, bad boss, and even bad afternoon shows. Each one of us are battling our own monsters and there is one that lives inside Marcus which he continues to fight head on. It is one that’s cannot be seen by the naked eye but is much scarier than those of R.L. Stein’s.
No tears shed on this second blood extraction for this year.We got him a fitting cap for his bravery after the extraction. One that Super Mario wears and one that could very well mean Super Marcus.For the second time this weekend, we were back in the mall, this time for his first visit to the dentist to check his shark tooth. No tears here as well.
***
Mood: 3/10 Honks! (I will get the blood extraction result today. Fingers crossed.)
I am among those who get excited when companies announce that they have a new logo and I even would like to believe that given the time and tools I could create a good one, if not better, myself. Pardon the statement, it sounds more like I am frustrated graphic artist, but having a logo is not as simple as knowing how to make one. Every element in a logo should deliver the right message as the outcome becomes the symbol that sums up the company’s vision and mission. It is meant to get everyone like its employees and its target market recognize it and, more importantly, know at first glance the core message that it tries to deliver.
Many corporations were spot on with their logos but there were several who, despite their best intentions, failed to find that one minor detail thus a logo that is ridiculous or one that sends the opposite of its key message. While I haven’t been part of a logo team of any company, my rusty marketing subject plus my imagination tell me that to come up with a logo involves a tedious and a creative process. Again, the vision and mission statement should be the foundation and some critical questions should be answered. What idea or products do you sell? What impression do you want to tell your target audience—i.e., your employees, your market, your community? How do you want your company to be perceived? If it appears good on shirt could be one but that should be among the least of the concerns.
It is therefore imperative that the right team is in place to come up with the right—not necessarily the best—logo. Ideally, every stakeholder must be there and everyone must at least possess a keen attention to detail as a logo is a tattoo that once completed would be hard, time-consuming, or worse, painful to change.
Lastly, like any product, a new logo should also have its own promotion to reach its target market. It should be handled by a good marketing team who knows how to sell it and knows the right media that could effectively get the message across. Anything less would make all efforts go to waste and the logo ends up as good material for a weekend article or an entertainment for people who likes to kill time online during their rest day.
My own rest day logo so there is no need to like it.
***
Mood: 4/10 Honks! (Good news: Marcus’ school is closed due to Typhoon Lando. Bad news: our gym is also closed.)
Our seven-year old is acting up lately. The past week has been a struggle especially for me as there were so many issues that I have to deal with. It is some sort of tantrums, or as my wife puts it, ‘a sign that it is seeking attention.’ Whatever the reasons are, it is becoming obvious that this one has seen better days. Nope, it’s not our son but our Honda City.
On hump day morning right out of work as I happily imagine a hearty breakfast at home I found a screw—a screw stuck deeply into my left rear tire. Needless to say, I had to change the flat tire while tired and sleepy and hungry. Good thing I was able to summon my inner pit stop crew skill and I was out of Nuvali after less than 15 minutes which is not bad given my then present condition. (The vulcanizing shop guy was able to pull out a four-inch screw which he said must have fallen from a motorcycle brake adjuster.)
But, just like that overused TV shopping line, wait there’s more. That night, I had to deal with several rude drivers on my way to work. Oncoming vehicles flashed their headlights; some even had the nerve to honk as I get near them. Just rude, inconsiderate at the very least, right? Well, it was midway of my trip when I realized I was at fault—I was running with one headlight on the passenger side only. It would have been cool if I were in the music video of that Wallflowers’ song but in real life it’s really not. Anyway, I made it through the dark stretch that I regularly take and I even had the time to drop by True Value Solenad to grab a replacement which I was able to install the next day. Another problem solved, comes the next.
When it rains, it pours—in my car’s case, it leaks. The recent rainy days have exposed a leak on the driver side. I thought at first that it is coming from under, that there could be a hole, that whenever I pass by this flooded part of my trip water comes in. The good news, I discovered, is that there isn’t one right below but the bad news is that it is coming from a breach either in the gasket where the wires and hood cable from the engine side go through or from an unknown location. So yesterday I had all my tools out—hydraulic jack, jack stand, hand tools, and a caulk. The front of the house was a repair shop for hours while I am trying to beat the hot rising sun.
All the caulking I made under the left fender weren’t successful though. It rained hard in the afternoon—hours after we arrived from buying Marcus’ CoQ10 and Alpha Lipoic Acid at Healthy Options ATC—and this morning I discovered the leak is still there. But I now think that I have found the culprit which is a small gap where the windshield and wiper panel meet. Another caulking session took place while I was all sweaty right out of my workout session from the nearby gym. Fingers now crossed.
I would say that if there were cars during Jean Valjean’s time then ours could be his. I know it’s an exaggeration but such inconveniences had me relate more to Les Miserables which is a story I read while killing time at the parking lot—while in my car, our seven-year old car.
Either I win the lotto or join a networking group to make his last year’s wish a reality. There are other options but would be against the law.
***
Wifey bought a DVD of Les Miserables which we watched yesterday while rain poured hard outside, while I was wondering if I was able to fix the leak of the car.
***
Mood: 2/10 Honks! (A part of me wishes for the El Nino to persist.)
It is another work day again so off to work I go. I arrived at the office on time, actually earlier, just like how any good employee should be. I am all fresh, spic and span, and my barong and pair of slacks neatly pressed. Of course, black shoes shiny and bright. Our day officially starts with a prayer, then a flag ceremony, and followed by a pledge of service to the public. All of it happen in front of our office, right outside where everyone can see, right in front of our clients who eagerly wait to get their business with us done so that they can finish their other plans for the day. They are here to deal with their licenses, car registration, and the likes. Yes, I am an LTO employee.
Finally seated at my post, computer’s up and running, and about to start work then I heard the wordpassed around. It spread inside the office fast yet faster outside. In minutes everyone learned about the word.
Few more minutes and clients outside my window filled the blue adjoining steel seats. It didn’t take any longer before sarcastic remarks fly by. Remarks that, while from different faces and ages and walks of life and on a different day, are very similar in nature. But man, I have gotten used to these somehow. Over the years my superiors have told me that to survive I have to ignore unsolicited advice from senior citizens who don’t understand technology; from the young ones who are arrogant and seem to know better as if it’s a matter of pushing the reset button and everything goes back online. We consider these as trivial job ‘hazards’ and I have learned to let each pass through the other ear. All in a day’s work.
My name is posted outside, right in front of my stall, on the MV registration workflow. I am very aware of that. In fact, I told my family all about it the very first time our office placed the tarpaulin there and they were so very proud of me—my child especially. He has told his classmates about it as well. The workflow states that transaction time ends after 90 minutes. But does it? Sometimes yes, sometimes not. Blame it on the word.
The clock is ticking, didn’t realize that almost two hours have passed, and I looked out my window again. People are getting restless, more restless than the time they first heard the word. Some have returned with something to munch on just as if they’re on a DVD marathon.
Some have entertained themselves with something that is of no cost. I can see some staring purposely on the no noon break poster. The assurance of it doesn’t help I know. I imagine some planning something sinister if only they can get away with it—like a car jack smashed into the glass or a flash bang being tossed inside our office just to awaken our senses. If they do that I actually can’t blame them. I believed though that these people, however fidgety they start to get, are civil. Up to when, however, that I don’t know. For example, any moment from now and this one bald man in black shirt and faded camouflage cargo shorts could snap. Heaven forbid. His queue number shows 26 and half more behind him looks just as irritated.
He has actually started a discussion around just to take a break from what seems an ebook he was occupied with a while ago—back when he seems to show some patience. How inept this government agency is; why wonder how EDSA and other highways are full of reckless drivers when in the LTO compound alone are people who drives in and out with total disregard of the law—motorcycle riders without helmet, cars with tinted plates, drivers who do not know how to park. Everything happening right in front of our senior officials. Those were some of his ice breakers and others do agree with him. He may be a politician in the making. Someone please make him stop.
Wait, I heard a familiar voice on the public address system. There is an announcement, the queue numbers are being called, they are not offline anymore. Back in business. Back to being me, for I am just an ordinary citizen, never an LTO employee, just someone trying hard to understand what it feels to be like working in an organization that is almost synonymous to this one word. Come to think of it LTO must stand for Land Transportation Offline.
So when do I see you again LTO? Maybe after 45 days as promised on your memorandum on new plates? Or would I be too naive to expect that from you? By the way, I checked your list of newly released plates while waiting to pay at the cashier and I saw that these are from people who renewed their car registration in January. Yes, I know the answer.
My SMS with wifey during that day at the LTO.
Revision: Added this pic because as always my wife demands an image on my post.
Today, over to-go Jollibee breakfast and while taking a break from her laundry, wifey showed me an app that allows her to color sans the crayons. Hours later and while the clothes are drying outside under the hot Saturday sun, she completed her work. I’m impressed. She is my own Heart Evangelista (don’t get me wrong, not voting the hubby).
Wifey’s first Colorfy work.
***
Mood: 2/10 Honks! (Survived the week while nursing a flu. Now recovering.)
Marcus Can Blog 