My Chair RocksBy Conchita C. Razon
It will soon be Holy Week. The heat in Manila has people thinking of an escape to cooler climes. I wonder who will brave the traffic and trek up to Baguio. It is crazy to be on the road on that last week of Lent. Friends of mine tried it last year, and it took almost 10 hours to get to Kennon.
Without Batting An EyelashBy Maurice Arcache
Rupert Jacinto’s advocacy is supporting poor churches all over the country through the Sto. Niño de Paz Chapel Foundation.
Forever 81By Gilda Cordero-Fernando
Tired of having studied all day and all night, my grandson Franco slumped on the other easy chair in my bedroom. He was carrying his book on civil law.
Not Quite ThereBy Chit Roces
Frank Sinatra, the troubadour of his generation and its progeny, the generation to which I belong, sang the songs of our lives. Even the words he did not sing but simply utter, especially in the home stretch of his life, now resonate with me: I’m losing it.
By Norma O. Chikiamco
By the time they were serving the first course in Hotel InterContinental’s Prince Albert Rotisserie, my dining companions and I were all dreaming of going to Sardinia. Which was understandable, considering the way Italian wine expert, Fabrizio Mennella Carcangiu of Mennella Group Italy, had just described his hometown.
Gut FeelBy Minyong Ordoñez
They’re immortals. They’re happiness givers who lived and died bringing the “feel-good” and hearty laughter in our lives.