Did I miss something? One day I got a notice of a huge meeting of the Village Association to vote yay or nay for a new gate opening in our village, right around the corner from us. The next day they cancelled and I think they said to wait for another notice. None came.
Suddenly there were picks and shovels, a truck and a couple of tents, drills, even a fire truck. By the looks and sounds of it, the Association was ready to open the gate.
Even in the rain, people were starting to gather, residents demanding to know what was going on. Looked like they were irate. Incensed is a better word! From the car as we drove by, I could hear some grumbling. A little hissing maybe?
The “gates issue” has been a thorn on the side of most homeowners in Ayala Alabang, especially those living near the designated locations. Personally, while I have misgivings of my own, I feel it will do more good than harm. Extra access will be a definite boon in an emergency. It may also help ease traffic around the malls. Last Christmas, it was chaotic.
Update: the gate is up, but not open. Not yet.
Exactly what is this show-biz phenomenon all about? It boasts of a gazillion tweets and almost half of the national ratings pie, evoking screams and screeches from young and old. The country is enamored and hangs on every word and move of the new “love team.” Why? What caused this freak TV hit?
Allow me an opinion. Maybe it’s because Filipinos, despite our politics and other highfalutin notions, are still incurable romantics.
We are thrilled to watch Alden and Maine falling in love from a distance, exchanging smiles and glances, leaving us in suspense for the next day. Their only physical contact in these many weeks has been a handshake under the watchful eye of an old-school type lola. She dictates the manner of dress (girls cover up) and the rules of courtship (boys are solicitous).
The story promotes the old Filipino style of “look only but don’t touch.” And wonder of wonders, it works! The kilig factor has been cranked up to the max.
It amazes me that in today’s world of “sex before the main entrée,” this antiquated theme has elicited such response. It is hard to believe that old-fashioned still sells. Go figure.
I had a chuckle when I read about one candidate who promised not to malign the opponent. You mean it can be done? Is it possible to present your platform, recite the woes of the nation, make promises of reform and try to convince voters to write your name on the ballot, without blackening the reputations of the people in the opposite camp?
Could it be that we have at last discovered that making someone else look bad does not make us look any better? They say that when you sprinkle perfume around, you can’t help getting some of it on yourself. Well, guess what? It happens with mud and muck as well.
I wish that people who spew invectives and obscenities on social media remembered that.
The Internet is, indeed, today’s most effective tool to disseminate the good, bad and the ugly side of life. It has also become a vehicle for venting and impassioned vilifying. But it can get sickening. Should we self-regulate?
I had dinner with an old friend who was both angry and amused at the snippets he had seen online about some candidates. A few were actually clever, but most were below the belt, too ugly to share.
The 2016 campaign circus in the United States is just as vicious. The clowns have made their appearance. But there is little laughter.
I guess politics is the same everywhere. Once you join the fray, you are fair game. No one is spared.
Quickly you are damaged goods. You need a strong stomach and a thick hide to take it.
The insults and innuendos and the shameless intrusions on one’s private life should be reason enough for anyone with half a brain to stay away. But like moths to a flame, the aspirants come in droves.
When I was young, I used to wonder how once-upon-a-time good friends could become entangled in mortal combat in an arena where no fouls are called while the world watches and salivates. I have since learned that for old traditional politicians the wounds are never fatal. For them, it’s all a matter of timing, of changing colors and switching sides.
In 2016 not all participants are seasoned or jaded. Someone opened the way for the strong and pure of heart. For these we are truly thankful. They are the few with the right heart, with noble and lofty goals, and a vision for the country. We must pray for them.
An old poem
While doing research for a book on family I came across an old American poem I memorized long ago and had forgotten. Perhaps I found it again for a reason. The title is “A Bag of Tools,” by R. L Sharpe.
“Isn’t it strange how princes and kings,
And clowns that caper in sawdust rings,
And common people like you and me
Are builders for eternity?
Each is given a Book of Rules; A shapeless mass, a bag of tools.
And each must fashion ere life is flown A stumbling block, or a steppingstone.”