The hurriedness is there, it never leaves,
exhilarating rush is on everyone's feet
walk, run, sprint; sprint, walk, run; run, sprint, walk
set of limbs striding fast among the rest
the walking-speeds belt helps the tired ones
escalators are snails and stairs seem too steep
it's a punishment, but must persevere
because
the final call is conveyed
gate will close shortly
tube is retracting soon
and thrust finally will lift wings of this humongous beast
(but)
oh no! it's not happening
the security line up is not to my liking
there must be double queue of 50 or so
and I only have 15 minutes to go
come on now, fast! and please, I beg!
For I must still sprint
from gates 107 to 137
all I need is to get in
and give my smile to a lady flight attendant there
Shove in my laptop and coat overhead
Click the belt,
and soon I'll be airborne

And then...
I can relax and glide
above the clouds at certain height
and for sure, I'll be happier no sooner when I land.

I notice that most of the successful chefs in the world are guys. Also, I heard that men make better dough than women because of their naturally warmer palms, which makes the dough, well...better.

I have always been fascinated to know if there is some truth to it, and I wanted to test myself to see if one gender is indeed better than the other in culinary undertaking.

After few domestic chores that I had to put up to help the wife this past week (kind of like pre-Spring cleaning), tired, we both felt wanting to relax at the end of that Sunday evening, but the call of my crumbling stomach was getting louder and was harder to get ignored, and I supposed she must be, too!

From what I figure, she seemed to have cooking-withdrawal syndrome at that time, and I wouldn't bother her to prepare us supper anymore after our day's chores.

Ordering pizza or Chinese dish also did not raise my equally unmotivated butt to pick up the phone. We both looked at each other, and neither of us budged to accept the humble obligation of preparing supper.

After awhile (I guess, guys really have a shorter rope for handling hunger) I, then, finally went to the kitchen, rummaged through the freezer and skimmed over pantry contents, and decided to undergo for a hunger quick-fix task. I was going to cook for supper.

"...and the best way to cook for supper?" I asked myself, but no definitive answer came out from my imaginative mind.

Suddenly, this pot of sticky rice mixed with seafood swirled enticingly across my head as if saying: "Bring me in! Bring me in!"

Aha! Paella! This visually uninviting, but wonderfully-tasting black paella I remember being served to us in a Manila restaurant. I suppose it was the squid ink that turned the rice so dark, and when you chew, it leaves a temporary stain to your teeth. I truly enjoyed it though.

Later I had full array of pot and pan, left a couple of crabs to thaw in the sink, couple cups of parboiled rice, and little tins of spices.

Honestly, I didn't know how it was cooked or made. The only guide I would have this time was my visual memory of how it looked like, but imitating taste would be a real challenge.

And of course, aside from my hunger, this self-commissioned task that I put myself upon was to essentially prove one thing: if guy like me (err, not necessarily chef) is a better cook.

Secondly, it's either she dispels the statement that "men tend to be better cooks" or it retains its credibility (at least between the two of us). In all this, the critic would be my wife who was unaware of this probe something for something I put myself into.

In the latter case, it wouldn't do me any good, believe me. I do not look forward to cooking, and besides I do not have the ability to repeat the same dish over and over. It's always been a matter of trial-and error for me.

After several minutes, I started dishing out everything in the pan: crabs, what-have-you spices, rice and tomato sauce (rice and tomato sauce? I was not sure this is right, but where I would I get sticky rice and squid ink? Anyway, parboiled rice is healthier, and orangey or any bright-looking colour dish would be more appetizing, I guess, ha ha!). I then put the lid on, let it steam for awhile.

Soon, the rice started to heave from the pan. Completed with garnish of sliced dill on top, I set the table.

"Hon, would you like to eat now?" I hollered to my wife down in the family room watching her favorite show.

"It's done now? What did you cook? she asked in return while heading to the kitchen and eventually peeked at the steaming pan of paella now on the table.

"Remember the paella in Manila I told you about? Well, that, I took inspiration of!" I answered in a dashing manner while untangling the apron strings from my back and expectantly waiting for any sort of incoming praise from my designated and unsuspecting critic.

She grabbed a spoon, dig a small portion of paella from pan's rim edge and brought it up to her mouth to taste. She chewed slowly that I couldn't wait any longer for her most-awaited judgment.

So I asked.

"So, how did you like my paella?" as I winked my eye on her and my smile arched stretchfully to both my ears signifying a perceived glorious anticipation for her impartial and honest approval.

"Arvin, this is almost perfect..." she smiled and continues, "you may would want to be less generous with salt, though...and it's a bit hot for paella!"

I recall sprinkling that crimson-looking powder from one of the round tins to the dish. It was chili powder!

We finally sat and ate. Though, I noticed along the course of our supper that she would occasionally sip from her glass.

I completely know what it meant.

Though my pride was not crushed, in retrospect, I realized something: kitchen is not my turf. After all, my wife loves being in the kitchen cooking (this time maybe was one of the few exceptions).

Next time, I'll stick to what I know better doing at in the kitchen, eating and well...running the dishwasher and putting away everything back to cupboard, ha ha!

A dignified kitchen's aide-de-camp, to be more precise. :-)

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NOTE: watch Pacquiao-Cotto bout on November 14, 2009 (MGM Las Vegas)

Filipino boxing hero, Manny Pacquiao who has now six world boxing titles around his belt. Most sweet of all was from last night's fight with Ricky Hatton of Britain. The fight that I considered even more impressive than Pacquiao/de la Hoya match last December that sent the Mexican to his early retirement from the boxing circuit.

Why not? Amid all speculations that he will succumb to Hatton's power, it was the opposite.

First round, three powerful hits made Hatton knelt and was counted twice by the referee. Second round and Manny finished the fight with a superb final undercut to the chin sending Hatton to the canvas in a somewhat pitiful and morbid state, lays so motionless as if something worst had happened to him. I was glad Ricky recovered after few minutes.

---------

Filipinos have their own share of achievers and notables around the world in their respective fields. Unfortunately, sometimes we are being stereotyped wrongly not by our own choice, but by circumstances, the government's weak political will, and its flawed domestic and foreign policies geared at Filipinos back home and abroad.

Sure, you may find lots of Filipinos working around the world for other nationalities, and for such a small country, Filipinos are globally visible now, but I'm sure it is for good reasons, not for the lack of it.

"Flash" Elorde - first Filipino Olympian medalist
Bong Coo - gold medalist for a demonstration sport in 1988 Olympics
Paeng Nepomuceno - world record holder in international bowling circuit
Henry Soo - at 14 years old, he's the youngest Filipino and Asian Chess Grandmaster (he's still getting better)
Eugene Torre - first Asian Chess Grandmaster (he once beat Anatoly Karpov of Russia)
Carlos Romulo - world-famous stateman and held the position of UN Secretary-General
Lea Salonga - internationally-known stage actress/singer that was cast in "Miss Saigon" and garnered international awards from Tony to Sir Olivier award-giving bodies
Arnel Pineda - new vocalist for the American band"The Journey"
Charice - young sensational singer whose becoming a household name now. David Foster who built up careers of Celine Dion, Barbra Streisand, Michael Buble, etc. is also doing the same for her.
Dr. Connie Mariano - is former US President Bill Clinton's personal physician (she must have been in the Air Force One as many times as Bill Clinton's number of boarding)
Dr. Josefino Comiso - NASA's Filipino Physicist. First individual to have noted global warning
Roberto del Rosario - inventor of the now famous Karaoke Sing-Along system
Freddie Aguilar - legendary folk singer whose song "Anak" (Child) was released in 56 countries and translated to dozens different languages.

Manny Pacquiao - need I say more about him?

...and many more.

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I

Matang dilat sa puyat

Lumabnaw na yata ang utak

Ilang ulit ginamit tsaang mistula ng anemik

Inabutan sa pagsabog muli ng liwanag

Doon sa upuang nagtitiyaga

Uminit na ang puwit

Na kasing-init ng bombilyang

magdamag na nakatunganga

Upang pagbigyan...

kanyang pagkahumaling, ba o ?

pagmamahal sa panulat?

Ah! pag-ibig ito sa sining na hinabi

Sa hibla ng puting papel at bolpeng itim

II

Rebelasyong uulit-ulitin

Insomyak na mata di pupunahin

Sa sining na kakaulayawin

Ang kamay ng orasan at tipa ng minuto

Sa manunulat walang pagbabago

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Me and the wife are not too fanatical coffee drinkers, but once in a while we swing by at a popular local shop drive-in to grab a coffee for myself and an iced cappuccino for her.

"Hon, could you also order toasted bagel for me, please?" she asks me as I was queuing behind several cars and nearing the speaker of the menu board to order.

My wife continued, "...with garlic and herb cream cheese, please!"

From circularly-arrayed multiple punch holes of the free standing menu board came a somewhat hoarse voice of a female and asked for our order.

Seconds after relaying to the crew our order of drinks and a single toasted bagel, my wife pulled my right arm close to her side, smiled candidly and spoke, almost begging. She wanted me to order three toasted bagels instead.

"Ummm, excuse me!" with an increase volume to my voice this time, and neck almost pulled outside of the driver side window in an attempt that my change of order is understood.

"Can you make the bagel three instead, please?"

"You want one toasted bagel with herb & garlic cream cheese to make it into three instead. Is this correct, sir?" she confirms in a positive manner and with validating intention.

"Yes. Please!"

After that we drove ahead to the next window to grab our order, but waited a few minutes.

The order crew had a very big smile on her face when she opened the sliding window. Her lips - close to her mouthpiece, indicate a crew's dedication at her job: it kept on being animated while communicating to a patron next to me.

She then handed over our order in a red-ink printed brown paper bag. She thanked and wished us a great day.

As soon as the bag got on my hand, I slowly rolled away my car on the alley while I opened the fresh-from-the-stack crisp paper bag.

However, I noticed an unusually lighter weight of it for the quantity of bagels I ordered. I continued opening the bag.

To my surprise, I did not find two extra bagels, but a toasted bagel was made into three!

The only toasted bagel in the bag was equally cut into three pieces.

"Well, I guess this works along with my dieting plan, a third for me and two-thirds portion of this bagel for you, hon!" says to my wife as I laughed at the turnout of the situation. :)

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I grew up to be what my personality is all about right now: never speaking out my mind too often! I am not bitter nor I am too proud. Lately though, I felt some sense of vindication that how I reacted and spoken, much has been cleared inside of me.

In a culture where, being silent, in my younger years, equates respect to parents, never too long had it become my 'rule of thumb'. It carried on to my school and teenage years, and throughout my career. Getting a pat in the back, avoiding fewer enemies, being fed with shallow accolades, etc. were superficial rewards I got. And worse, I did not realise its effect has slithered silently and slickly dented my self-esteem to improve.

These past few days was not good in my social relationship. I have learned to seriously speak-up. Consequently, the unexpected reactions came to follow all around. They considered my action appalling, unseemly, disrespectful, desensitize of others, and basically rendering it as unacceptable.

Reviewing the impression this silence has caused me to become, which I thought was generally ideal - does not imply any intention of ruining every single genuine relationship that I built around me; relationships that have become a dike on my rather occasional scattered watery and insipid dispositions. I cannot simply afford that. Where I was lacking, these relationships had found me footing.

But rather, I found breaking my silence in a situation where it calls for as a way of sieving out uninviting societal relationships. Relationships whose purpose of association is to take advantage of you and to make you feel you have caused all the catastrophe on earth if they didn't like what you said.

With these virulent relationships, I came at this point and realised that being awfully accommodating and silent is not a good combination in life - yeah, at this age in my life; I saw and it started to dawn on me that no matter how I please these selfish relationships, they'll always find me lacking; I conquered and fully understood now that I can choose to play all the niceties and attempt to be liked or be sincerely passionate to relationships I truly treasure, but one thing must remain intact: enough self-respect to speak out my piece.

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A burst of thunder
the whips of the spring rain
on our soaked bodies
we were cheering
after a wild fowl we chased
among the grassy blades it hid

summer and stream forged us
buoying, wading, and cascading
with our make-believe shallop
though the sun's rage lanced
we held on to joy and innocence

my 'Neverland' drifted so afar
it was my world, my comfort among places
a kingdom with them childhood friends
I will sleep soundly, I must relive
cause am orphaned now to the memory

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