EpoyzBlog

one of my best friends in the whole universe and beyond, george, had a major operation recently (he told me it was arthroscopic surgery for a torn anterior cruciate ligament, but i’m suspecting he just needed to be re-circumcised or sumthin’, but anyways…) and i visited him twice to check on how he’s holding up. this all went down in the new medical city complex in ortigas, he was confined for almost a week for the pre-op and the post-op (five days for a weewee chopchop? must be quite a package you have there, buddy..) and from the looks of things it kinda looked like a successful rectumoloctomy (ahem), so i have to give him a shoutout: you hang in there, bro, we’ll be playing basketball again in no time.

just have major hate on the parking regulations of the medical city, yo. see, they have this regulation that when you use their basement parking for under 30 minutes and 59 seconds they only charge you ten bucks. for 31 up to four hours it’s gonna be forty. the first time i visited it was midnight, i parked on the first basement level and i hung around for over an hour and promptly paid my 40 Ps when i got out. now, i don’t wanna sound like a cheap bastard or an insensitive friend who can only hang out in a friend’s hospital bedside for a lousy twenty minutes, but it just so happened that the second time i visited i got stuck in traffic on my way there and this time i needed to be somewhere else in 30-40 minutes so i only had enough time for a quick Wazzup because i can’t stay long. 

i’m never one to be a stickler or anythin’ regarding money, it’s just that you know how i am whenever i feel money’s being spent needlessly, especially when it comes from my pocket. so while i was parking i was suddenly aware of the 30-minute thing and thought, hey, this works for me right now. it was early evening and i only managed to find a slot on the second basement level, but it’s cool. hey what’s this? for some reason the elevator from the 2nd basement level and below only gets me on the ground level. strange, but hey, this design is either an utter stroke of genius and i’m just stupid not to understand it  so i can’t be hatin’ at that point, or it’s just plain stupid. to get to my friend’s floor i go to a different elevator lobby. well, i got to his room, got my heads-up and bolted outta there with a good 15 minutes left. waited for the elevator to take me down to the first basement level (again, can’t understand it but i’m sure it makes sense somehow), as close as it can take me to my parking slot. went to the other set of elevators to take me down and i figured i just have enough time to salvage my 30 bucks. i got my heart rate up now.. i resisted the urge to speed up on the ramps and the turns, i was trying to be cool even though i was watching the clock. i have more than enough time as i was approaching the exit. but i didn’t expect the girl at the gate to be so slow in letting the other cars out. when i got there i had three cars in front of me, and it took a full six minutes for the girl to let these  people out, so with foreboding i was already expecting what was about to happen. the girl in the booth took my card, swiped it and asked for forty. i was all ready to relent but i just didn’t like her tone, like she has a commission on this or something. i inquired "40? lumagpas na ba ako?" to which she bluntly replied "32 minutes." shi-iiit. i hope your boss shares that money with you, the way you’re running it. like it was my fault that they’re only operating one gate instead of the two that were available, and had to wait for her slowpoke butt to process the fees of the three cars that came before me. grudgingly i handed her the money, all the while giving her the old stink-eye. girl can’t even look my way. look me in the eye while you’re robbing me, woman!!!

bottomline: i paid an extra 30 bucks for a ride in their Great Elevator Discontinuum, with a bonus turn at The Incredible Queue of Five-Minutes-of-my-Life-I’m-Never-Getting-Back. great. what a place they’ve got running there. plus the aggravation i experienced probably shaved a couple of minutes away from my life, too.

so now i want to get back all the time i wasted memorizing all the NBC codes regarding requirements for parking slots for all these different structures when i took the board exams. i was under the impression then that as an architect i must take into careful consideration how to fit all of a structure’s requirements in the design and still provide ample parking spaces for the public who go to these places. and you’re supposed to do all this without sacrificing the flow and functionality of the whole design, especially commercial  ones, because  you’re supposed to provide comfort for your customers, right? wrong. now they cram as much parking slots as is possible to generate more money. guess all these corporate goons found a loophole and figured out that the NBC neglected to mention if these slots are free or not. wow. i believe a chunk of our CBDs were built with money from all these parking fees that they’re charging everywhere we go. and it used to be around 20 to 25 for the first FOUR hours, now the norm is 30 for the first two hours. fuck. now what the medical city’s trying to pull off, that’s a new one. that’s right, they’ll only charge you ten bucks if you can get through their maze in 30 minutes or less. good luck, and watch out for that final obstacle, the Slow Bitch at the Gate.

i once indulged myself with an overpriced venti-size frappuccino at starbucks, figured i deserved a pick-me-up while driving home from a hard day’s work. i parked right in front of starbucks, and this guy came to me issuing me a parking stub and charged me 35 bucks. right in front of the fucking starbucks, g. i wasn’t even there for 15 minutes and i ended up spending 180 for coffee and parking. ya-hoo.

wasn’t there a senate inquiry not too long ago regarding the overcharging of parking fees in these places? what the fuck happened to that? naging "commissioners" na rin ba sila kaya tumigil itich?

"It’s been a bad day
Please don’t take a picture
It’s been a bad day
Please

Broadcast me a joyful noise unto the times, Lord
Count your blessings
We’re sick of being jerked around
We all fall down

It’s been a bad day
Please don’t take a picture
It’s been a bad day
Please.."

          - "Bad Day", R.E.M.

two distinct feelings overwhelmed me after i watched manny pacquiao pummell erik (el vina) morales into a stoppage yesterday. the first one almost made this grown man cry, that of the first thing that manny did when the referee was waving off the contest in favor of him and the filipino people: realizing he just climbed his mountain and almost completely stunned, he walked into a neutral corner, got down on his knees and thanked the Lord. that’s the first thing he did above all, and it deeply moved me. no fist-pumping, “who the champ now?–who the champ now?” whooping it up self-congratulatory shit that most champions indulged in after winning the biggest fight of their lives. fists down, shoulders hunched down, almost as if humbled by the experience, he first thought of giving props to The Big Guy. you always learn a great deal about a person on how he reacts after a victory (and a whole lot more on how one reacts after a loss), and he showed a great deal of class both times. made me real proud that he is my countryman. i really appreciate what he did for our country, and he never got tired of repeating over and over again that this is above personal glory, that he really did this for us. thanks, dude.

the second feeling that surfaced was what i experienced during his interview with brian villoria and quinito henson (or kenny torhenson, as the folks in ESPN call him): in the middle of the interview the first gentleman hands him a phone (which was on speaker) and on the line, of course, is she-who-must-not-be-named-because-wala-lang-chuva.. well, that DID made me cry right there. right then and there i wanted to (warning: not for the squemish, sorry..) throw up, gather my vomit, put it in a glass, drink it and hurl it again. i mean, dear God, make it stop. come on, now, they’re riding our country’s hero like he was zorro’s steed. ever notice how whenever something good happens to this country (the SEAGames, the peso gaining on the dollar, our country’s boxing stellar international showing..) you inevitably hear these four sweet words: Let’s Forget About Politics. they’re all the same, all the senators and mayors and governors and congressmen those currently installed in power who watched the fight and went on TV, proclaiming the same shit: let’s be united as a country, just celebrate and forget about politics. yup, like everything’s just fine.

how about being vigilant while were being united, then? what’s wrong with that? why can’t we follow pacquiao’s example that when we work hard within ourselves we can achieve great things? that within a unity of purpose therein lies greatness and salvation? woooow, drama… but seriously: are we going to let all the past servings of shit slide because we opened a can of whoopass on the mexicans and their boxers? para naman tayong tanga nun, nanalo lang si pacquiao kakalimutan na natin na marami pa tayo kailangang ayusin. forget about politics? fuck no.

right now pacquiao’s success buys the administration precious time and fodder to continue basking in power. hey, never mind the poor folks being driven to the ground because of those who abuse power, right? we’re boxing powerhouses once again, and all is good. funny word, Fodder, as in food the administration will continue to feed their livestock who toil for them, and fodder as in the way manny pacquiao seem to be regarded by this country’s politicians. manny pacquiao, maybe the greatest boxing champion this country has ever produced, may also go down in history as the most used for a specific purpose: a distraction to divert the attention of a people in trouble.

ya-hoo.

and i ain’t buying ramos’s shit either.

“hoy, alam ko na eddie
hoy alam ko na eddie
hoy alam ko na eddie ang totoo..

hoy alam ko na eddie
hoy alam ko na eddie
matagal mo na kaming niloloko!”

-”Kung Alam Mo Lang, Violy”, Gary Granada

something caught me off guard yesterday. as you all know, i am voluntarily bald. used to shave my own dome, but decided a weekly or bi-weekly visit to the barber shop would be much less of a hassle. plus there i can have my neck cracked, which i can never do the way them barbers can do it for me. you know those tense moments after the haircut when he’s powdered you up, dusting off the cut hair from your shoulders and neck? then you brace yourself for something that you know is coming and you say to yourself ‘ok now, you got to relax, you got to relax, easy..easy..here it comes..’ and then “chop-chop left side, chop-chop right side, rub the back, rub the back and CRrrrick to the left, CRrrrack to the right.” al-righty. i don’t know, after that i just feel–renewed? lighter? more cagey? i don’t know, but i love it when they do that.

so.

it was early afternoon when i stepped up inside the barber’s shop. it was just after lunch and they were all loungin’, chillin’ and shit. i noticed this woman on the chair next to the chief barber and recognized that it was his wifey. oh yeah, i remember, lady used to run the small beauty shop right next door, but a lot of bigger, more posh beauty shops have been sprouting around my neighborhood the past two years so i figured maybe she decided she can’t compete with these corporate giants and closed shop. (kinda like meg ryan in You’ve Got Mail, huh?) now, usually whenever i come up to the barber’s, i get pointed to the next available chair. i have been through the rotation, and all these guys are good. used to have just the one guy attend to me everytime, but i don’t feel right when a barber is dusting off his chair for me and i say “hinihintay ko si– so and so..” and i feel some hurt in the undercurrent like he’s saying “magaling pa ko sa tukmol na yan, e..” but hey, i got to stick with my dog, right? but that was long ago, my hair guy is working some place else and now i just turn the wheel and plop my ass right where they want me to. but now here’s the kicker. they pointed me to a new chair and i had a sinking feeling who i’m gonna see behind me. yup, beauty shop lady is going to be my barber.

now, let me just say right off that i have nothing against her and i understand she has to work and all to keep things runnin’. but his husband owns the place, their stable of barbers is one of the best around and i just feel she don’t need to do this shit no more. and certainly not on my time. i mean, damn. i was hyped for my haircut, dammit. and i’m looking forward to my rub-rub and neck crack, i have a basketball game later. i need to feel lighter, more agile, cagey, lithe and ready to strike. but oh no. i got the most awkward session in a barbershop ever. i certainly can’t refuse her service now. she’s the wife of the chief, for pete’s sake.

from the start the whole thing just went awry. i can’t look at her, i was all tense and i know i can’t exchange some friendly manly banter with this lady. i was afraid if i say something naughty or if i cuss or something (the way men sometimes talk, laging may mura sa una at sa huli ng sentence like “put**ginang caguioa yan kagabi eh ang galing talaga ng hayup ng anak ng pu*a, eh…), she’d smack me right in my mouth like my grandma used to. so she asked me what cut although it’s obvious. “zero?” and meekly i replied “opo..”.

oh, come on.

this is the first time in years a barber’s asked me that. usually from the get-go them boys know how i run my fly shit. occasionally they’d just comment as i get comfy on the chair like “gusto mo talaga na magaang ka, ano?” or “okey yan, tipid sa suklay” or “lagyan natin ng gel pagkatapos?”. shit, now all of that is down the freakin’ drain.

plus, again i mean no offense here, but there’s something about the way a man is with a pair of scissors and in my case, the clipper. not too light, not too heavy. when the clipper passes an area, i know that area of the dome is clean, yo. no going back and forth and shit. a barber presses that fucker on your head and it’s like a buzzsaw cutting through wood going “zzzzzzrrrraaeengh” and it’s clean. i hate to say this but obviously lady barber didn’t do this kind of shit often in her beauty shop. she was running that clipper on my head like it was a scrubbing pad or something. and because i was ill at ease i was beginning to perspire, the sweat in my head just making matters worse, further impeding the scrubbing process. oh dear Lord, make her stop. i was getting disheartened by each passing second. i sense my feel-good weekly appointment with the barber slowly wasting away. aside from that now i’m sure i won’t have my neck cracked and shit. lady can barely reach on top of my head that i have to slide low into my chair for her. aw, gosh-darn-it.

after 25 excruciating-like-in-a-dentist’s-chair minutes it’s over. usually it takes only 7 minutes right from the moment i sit on the chair to the time i bounce out the joint (cagey and lithe, remember?), but all the going back and forth shit on my head left me, um, i don’t know, despirited and heavy? i gave her the payment and i wasn’t even able to walk out of there, more like i shuffled out or slithered. i gave the chief barber one glance and dude can’t even meet my eye. there was an awkward silence all around because being it early in the afternoon there was no other customer in there but me, and i’m telling you, you can cut the tension in there with a butter knife. the other barbers were as meek as the husband, and i caught someone smirking as lady put my money in her drawer. i squinted my eyes and knew something was up.

oh-ho-ho, now i get it.

husband and wifey probably argued about this arrangement last night and guess who won? it probably went “no, i can’t let you do your shit there, it just ain’t right. it will be so embarassing..” but she went back with ” well i need to be cutting something off, motherfucker, i need to work and i’m bored out of my mind, you have any other ideas? why are you covering your balls, then? are you gonna let me do my shit there tomorrow? good.” and that was the end of it. chief can’t even look me in the eye, dog. damn, chief. you whipped-ass poor bird. i just shook my head imperceptibly as i slithered away. then i breathed deeply and let out a long breath, like when you want a person to know that you’re disappointed in him but you don’t say it directly. i’m sure dude got my message. i was already out the street and i still wanted to get back in there and yell “ANDRES!!!” and run like hell.

i hope you girls don’t get mad at me. i’m just sayin’. hey, i know that most of my female friends prefer gay hairstylists over girls. and i think it’s no accident either that the most prominent hair people in the world are men (insert three snaps in a Z formation here..). there’s just something there, i’m guessin’. i don’t know what it is, i’m an ig’nant fool. but it’s there. look, back in the 80s and the early 90s the best beauty shop in san pedro was this place aptly named “The Perfect Touch of Ting Escalante”, which was later changed to “The Perfect Touch of The Gays” after the Great Gay Mutiny of ‘89, where Ting’s other up-and-coming swarditas got a huge following and challenged for partnership. O ha? a close second was the pioneering ancient but equally prominent hairstyling diva “Rolly De Manila”. damn, those were the days. sadly, only Rolly De Manila survived the San Pedro Parlor Wars. reportedly the girls within Ting’s stable engaged in a civil war kasi sila-sila nagpalit-palitan at nagnakawan ng mga joypren at papah. halos magsaksakan ng gunting ang mga bruha, and their talents which were strong collectively now lay scattered throughout the Gaylaxy. Rolly, now 107 years old (i’m not really sure but he sure looks like it) had the last laugh, while Ting, to this day, is left with trying to pick up the pieces and scraping a living doing wedding day appointments.

damn. i hope when i go back to the barber’s next week chief’s wifey is gone. or else i may need to find a new place. maybe i can try to scope the place first and time my arrival when she’s doing another unsuspecting dude.

lately i’ve been reading a lot of things that this guy wrote. being tired of writing about what i see around me and losing hope for our country but still trying to keep that hope alive, a lot of what mr. de quiros says just enforces what’s already flickering with the tiniest of embers inside my dark mind. i see the country through him with all the intelligence that i don’t possess, a view of an older man who’s seen a lot but still is not tired enough to stop trying, despite the apathy and cynicism that has sprouted around him. i agree with most of what he writes about because apart from being at a loss for things to say i’m just impressed by his resilience and guile and his unwavering love for the country just froths on top of all the steaming pile of shit that has been served to him. i’ve yet to come across a column installment he wrote that i totally don’t agree with (but then again i can’t claim to understand everything that swings my way, i may just be an ‘agree-er’..). when raul roco died i made a draft for a blog posting giving props to the man and what he stood for, but somehow i failed to finish and post it because i can’t do his life’s work any justice in this blog.

puro kasi kalokohan ang alam isulat, e.

guess what? mr. de quiros wrote what i can’t get out of my murky mind, about mr. roco and then some. and we totally agree about jovy salonga. in fact, before i got to the sentence comparing sir raul to sir jovy, i was telling my brother how like sen. roco, mr. salonga was the best president we never had. and there it was, right in his column, just when i was about to read about it.

i also loved his ogre story, and some more of his sentiments that i share here.

hey, sure beats reading a whole bunch of incoherent stuff from me, right?

because if i’m gonna write about my sentiments, after much runaround and gook and stuff, you’ll only get this:

there is so much conflict in the world, there’s no use in adding more to it.

or to put it bluntly: andami nang kupal sa mundo, sasama ka pa ba?

kaya naman nagkukwento na lang ako.

they should re-release this song. not do a revival, like all these damn kids butchering eraserheads songs, but just play it on the radio again. more apt now than when it was originally written and performed by Yano. and hey, People Power is going to be 20 next month. what the fuck happened to what my parents fought for in EDSA ‘86? shi-i-it.

“Kumusta na, ayos pa ba
Ang buhay natin, kaya pa ba?
Eh kung hinde, paano na?
Ewan ko ba, bahala na?

Napanood kita sa tibi, sumama ka sa rali
Kasama ang mga madre, pinigilan mga tangke
Umiiyak ka pa sa harap ng mga sundalo
Namigay ka pa ng rosas na nabili mo sa kanto. (chorus)

Dala-dala mo pa, estatwa ni Sto. Nino
Eskapularyo’t Bibliya, sangkatutak na rosaryo
At sa gitna ng EDSA, lumuhod ka’t nagdasal pa
Our Pader, Hail Mary from thy bounty thru Christ our Lord amen. (chorus)

Pebrero, bente-sais nang si Apo ay umalis
Ngiti mo’y hanggang tenga sa kakatalon, napunit pa’ng pantalon mo
Pero hindi bale, sabi mo, marami naman kame
Kahit na amoy pawis, tuloy pa rin ang disko sa kalye. (chorus)

Nakita kita kahapon, may hila-hilang kariton
Huminto sa may Robinson, tumanga buong maghapon
Sikat ka noon sa tibi kase kasama ka doon sa rali
Pero ngayo’y nag-iisa, naglalakad sa may EDSA.

Kumusta na, ayos pa ba
Ang buhay natin, kaya pa ba?
Eh kung hinde, paano na?
Ewan ko ba, bahala na?
Ewan mo ba, bahala na
Bahala na, bahala na?”

-”Kumusta Na”, Yano

When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
When the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
If you never try you’ll never know
Just what you’re worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I…

Tears stream down on your face
I promise you I will learn from the mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I…

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

          - "Fix You", Coldplay