Charleze

The truth is, I have a cynical view of the new...this new...generation. (By my definition, the high school up to the college people.) They are uncouth and they lack the breeding that my generation has (my generation defined as everybody 40 and up). I'm not saying that the majority of the young people of today are rude and ill-mannered, not that. What I'm saying is, if the boorish and rude comprise 20 or 25% of my generation, this new crop has an even higher number. Probably 40% at worst, 30% at best. Why is this my conviction? That folks, merits another article in itself.

Anyway, just the other day, I was in a McDonald's store. Drinking coffee. Alone. Then a middle-aged woman and a little cute girl (I assumed was her daughter) came in and went to the table beside mine. The lady admonished her not to stand up so that the seat would not be taken by others, and for her not to go with anybody else. Then the lady went to the counter to order (counter was out of the line of sight from our position.)

So there. The girl was so cute that I spent five full minutes thinking whether I should talk to her or not. Believe me, I am the kind of person who does not make small talk to people- be it old, my age, or cute little kids. Particularly ugly kids, those who look like they'll bite you at the slightest provocation. Finally, I asked her with a smile, "What is your name?"

She answered in that tiny voice, "Charleze". I first heard it as "Charlene" but later on when the lady called her, I realized my mistake, but that's for later. We were still alone. The mother (which turned out to be an aunt) took all of 20 minutes ordering fries, burgers and shakes.

"How old are you?", I asked again. She said four. That should have been the end of it, for silence ensued for about 3 to 4 minutes. From out of the blue, she smiled and asked me, "What is your name?". It was not the words, but how she said it. Other 4 (or 5 or 6) year-olds have asked me that in varying circumstances, and the queries always came across as rude. Not this girl.

The manner in which she asked was respectful, sweet and so heavenly. I gave her my name (putting the "Kuya" in front). Then she asked if I lived far from that mall (I said yes). She asked if my house is tall or short. (I answered tall, for the dorm is a two-storey unit.) She even asked if I have kids. (Of course I said no. I sometimes say yes to strangers just to shut them up, but never to kids.)

She even asked a couple more questions that could only come from four-year olds directed to strangers. I am confident that two decades from now, this sweet angel would be a good lawyer or one hell of a homicide detective. Maybe even a writer such as myself. I asked her if she has siblings, the answer was yes, one sister. Abroad at the moment. I asked, "Do you talk to her everyday on the Net?". She smiled again and nodded.

Finally, the elder came back with the food. I told her how inquisitive and nice her daughter was. She corrected me, saying that the girl was her niece.

It was such a mundane event. In a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being the most trivial and 10 as an earth-shattering event), it should have been a 4 or 5. Five at best. However, the cynic in me...well...I had to review the cynical side of myself. There is HOPE for this generation after all. This little girl could not be alone. If she was there, conversing with me as though we were already friends, then others would be there as well. In her own little way, at the age of four, she was already educated, prim and proper. Capable of civilized small talk too, more than I can say for some adults I know.

I made small talk with the aunt for a few minutes, then wiped my lips, and stood. I said goodbye to the elder and faced the little angel. "Bye Charleze" I said with as much warmth as I could muster. She smiled again and waved a little cherubic hand.

As I was on the bus on the way back to the dorm, I remembered the biblical part where Christ was being approached by little kids and the apostles tried to prevent them. Well, that and my little conversation with the kid has no real similarity, but Christ's point there to his disciples was (among other lessons) that kids are a treasure. They are proof that no matter how bad or skewed our world becomes, hope lingers on. For as long as kids are there, we can stop being too hard on ourselves with the sins we are doing- "we" as in we, adults. That MEANINGFUL conversation was not exactly a wake-up call to me, more like a reminder from a Higher Being. A reminder that even the worst of society (criminals, terrorists, name it), started out as pure, sinless and innocent beings. All of us adults just got corrupted as we grew up- of course, in differing degrees and differing manners. If you dwell on that thought long enough, you'll recognize a lot of substantial and significant philosophy (and theology) in it. You may even find Zen in it.


I am still of the opinion that my generation possesses more decorum than the youth of today, but it has become- less magnified. I am looking forward to chatting with another little kid anytime in the future, be it boy or girl. That next one may in fact be a brat, someone who would stick his/her tongue out and then turn his back on me. Treating me as if I were a giant cockroach disturbing his solitude. (Believe me, that had happened, many years ago.)

But then again, it may be another Charleze- one that would make me smile. One that would affirm in me the basic goodness of humans. Thank you Charleze, it was a chat that was both ordinary and extraordinary. Vaya con Dios, young lady.

A Birth and a Death

First, the birth: it is the birth of a "new order", as news-websites put it. This is in relation to the victory of Obama in this US Presidential elections. While I was not able to vote (OBVIOUSLY because I am not American, nor do I live in that country), I amused myself with the thought: 'It would have been fun to agonize over the decision of whom to vote for- if I were an American'.

It was clearly a choice between two great men. In my own country (for the past couple of elections at least), the candidates numbered by the half-dozen, yet when you come right down to it, everything was choosing for the least evil, instead of the "better of the best".

In my conversations with my current-events-minded friends, almost everybody agreed that an Obama victory would put an end to the "racism", "blacks versus whites" issue that have been around for the longest, longest time. Yes, the racism issue for the past decades is not as pronounced as it was a century ago, but like cancer cells, they remain there. Even if not malignant. This Barack victory not only eradicates the cancer cells, it pronounces the patient on the way to Full Remission.

Still and all, even if I were American, there was a fifty percent chance (in my heart of hearts, 51%) that I would have voted for McCain. For a singular glaring reason. For those who do not know it, this guy used to be a POW- and he was given the chance by his captors to be let go- ahead of all his co-prisoners. HE DECLINED. While most guys in his position would grab at the offer before you could finish saying "Presidential elections"- this guy took his time and declined it. You have to be very impressed with moral virtues such as this. He declined it not to be different, he declined it not to be a hero later on. It is actually safe to assume that when he declined the "generous offer" of his captors, he already assumed he would die in that place. This is what I call "moral strength of the highest order". Would Obama have done exactly the same thing? Maybe yes, maybe no. We could speculate until the Next Presidential US Elections comes in, until all of us are blue in the faces, everything would be pure speculation. However, McCain proved it by doing it. "Been there, done that"- he could claim when facing our Supreme Creator when his time comes to be judged.

Such a shame he lost, but another part of me is very glad that Barack won, for other reasons I will no longer elaborate here. The part that I have something concrete to say about is this: I am happy for the Afro-Americans -both citizens and those simply forced to stay) of the US. For the very first time in the country's history, they would be able to enjoy one thing that all of their ancestors combined never had the luxury of having. For the first time, Afro-Americans would feel, really FEEL in all the shades of meaning, that America's head of state cares for them. Really cares, in all meanings of the word, after all- Obama is one of them. The amusing thing- and the laudable aspect of it all is - this win over McCain proves that the non-blacks of America also are confident that Obama would care for them too, individually and collectively. At first impressions, Barack will take care of blacks and whites (and the other races) equally well, but first impressions are not actuality. Only time will tell, but as far as gut feelings are concerned, I think this New President is going to be one hell of a president, and I mean it in the positive sense.

Well, that is that. Here is wishing both of them something. Barack, that he exhibits humility on this conclusive victory. For McCain, that he realizes that this defeat, albeit significant in his life, DOES NOT lessen the fact that he is one great man, one intelligent man, and that his supporters would wish him well until the end of his life. I am a writer, Mr McCain (on the very off-chance you get to read this), and it hit me that maybe one of these days, I will use your "I decline the offer of getting freed" experience as a good storyline for a story, a novel even. Believe me dear readers, this is the kind of act that would never die, it would be told over and over again, generation after generation. It is just a step away from the act of offering one's life so that others may live, or be saved.

Still and all, I would not dare argue that Barack's victory was not earned, unlike the elections of my country (I hate to admit it but there it goes)- America's elections are inspiringly honest and transparent. Hello Mr Obama, this birth of a new America (and world maybe) order is in your hands. (Most of it would be in your hands anyway, for as long as you would be there at the White House).

==================

So much for the birth of a new American "order", now we go to the death. My favorite fiction writers are Stephen King ('king of horror') and Dean Koontz ("master of gene-engineering speculative fiction")- however, Crichton is near the top of the list as well. He just passed away, and went on to grace the Great Halls of Writing in the Afterlife. I don't know him personally, I never even went within 10 kilometers of his person anytime when he was alive. However, I have read many of his stories/novels. Just to mention some of them: Airframe, State of Fear, The Lost World, Disclosure of course, and Timeline. The last one is what I consider as his ultimate best, disregarding the few works of his that I have not read to date (if ever one exists). Fact is, I've read Timeline at least twice, and I would not mind reading it for the third time. It was about a clique of professionals who had to travel back in time to 14th Century France to rescue a comrade. It was a most engrossing read. Such a pity that there would never be another novel like this, at least one coming from the pen of Michael Crichton. It pains me truly, thinking about it. Well, there are two inescapables: taxes and death. May he rest in peace, and may the tribe he left here on earth increase. The Crichton-genre writers (I am referring to the professional writers) may not be able to duplicate his mastery of words, or come up with the same breathtaking imagination, but they could at least try. You may be 13 or 14 or 15 years old right now, but every time you watch any of the Jurassic Park series, remember this guy. We all owe this fiction series to him, and now that he has just joined the "spirits" of all the T-Rex's, let us make him smile as he looks down upon us.

We can do this by making sure that his novels (whether translated to films or not) would be read by our children, and our children's children. Goodbye Mr Crichton. It's been fun. Rest well sir.

So Self-Contained

Wow...I never thought I would put in an article on AI here at my space, but here goes. (For those who have been sleeping under a rock for the past two decades, this is the ever-popular AMERICAN IDOL).

Truth be told, since I am a guy (as you must know by now if you have read all my previous articles), I should be rooting for a lady right? I for one, am rooting for Carly Smithson, wow...this lady has the vocals, plus she has the EYES. Both unusual and mesmerizing, more the latter than the former. However, she definitely has a bubbly side, and self-contained she is not. Ergo, this is not about her really, but on Amanda Overmyer.

Let me say this, I am not one who particularly likes rock (or hard rock), and women performers (women rockers I mean) are not among my favorites. Well, for this particular field of AI lady warriors, I will not say Amanda is a favorite of mine, and I really am willing to bet she will be cut off before the Top 3 come in. However, even more than Ms Mesmerizing Eyes and all the rest, Overmyer for me is probably the most interesting. I mean, look at her.

I watched the videos on all Top 24 being given the good news (that they made it to the 24), and it is very expected and so trite already that the female contestant would do any of the following: weep with joy, or just pump up their fists with joy, or shout with joy, or rush to the judges to give them all a hug, or worse...do all the mentioned. Funny and INTERESTING, Amanda did not do any of the following, she merely smiled (a very shy smile) and said "Thank you, I appreciate it". Looking at her, it was almost...almost...like she knew there was no chance of her being rejected. It's either a great dose of self-confidence or a great dose of being self-contained...I think it's a combination of the two. Looking at the contained reaction in those moments, boy, it was both very rare (TO SEE) and so refreshing- at least for me.

Then fast-forward, in the first session of eliminations, where four got axed, there was this moment. It was just the two of them standing, Amanda and the Afro-American lady (so politically correct of me), Seacrest said that one of them would go home. When it was announced that the Afro-American contestant got the axe, look at Amanda's reaction. Same reaction she displayed when she got the news that she made it to the Magic 24. SHE DID NOT EVEN HUG THE loser, and while some people might see it as too cold, I find it both rare (to see) and refreshing. I mean, if it were Alaina and Carly standing up there, I am willing to bet that regardless of who got booted out, the winner would hug the loser in a compassionate embrace, and we might find it touching or overly-done, or both. The fact that she did not even look at the Afro-American lady (somebody give me the name please) does not mean she is a cold person, she is just reserved, she would probably have exhibited the same reaction even if another contestant were there instead of the Afro-American lady. After all, accept it as fact folks, NOT ALL human beings in the world like to give hugs, or accept hugs for that matter. If the Afro-American lady is one of the latter, Overmyer did her a favor by not touching her. I mean, if they held hands seconds prior to Seacrest's 'you are out' announcement, that does not count, if you get my drift.

Right after she sang "Baby, Please Don't Go" wearing that multi-colored jeans, she showed all the world that she is capable of laughing too. (My friend said, "Wow, she is NOT an alien after all!" when Amanda laughingly admitted what she considered as an embarrassing moment in the AI adventure- that 5-second shot where all top 24 individually danced a jig in front of the cam). The amusing thing is, it could be said that the only times she "lets her hair down" and sheds off her self-containedness for more than 30 seconds is when she's performing onstage...but that, would still be a matter of opinion.

I don't know about you, but this lady (Amanda, not the Afro-American) is very intriguing, she is a mystery, and she is an enigma. She might just fit in at Potter's magical world, if they could stand a rock female with the kind of hair Cyndi Lauper held in her prime years.

(One thing I like in Amanda though, she likes to read- she revealed it in that tape shown during the show- and being a bookworm myself, I think she and I would have things in common, IF EVER the two of us get to meet personally- fat chance of that).

I want to see how she would react if any of the two happens: that she gets the coveted AI title or she gets booted out, I am willing to bet that she will not cry, not EVEN A SINGLE tear. Maybe, one or two of her fellow contestants will shed a tear for her, but no...not Amanda, she will probably just smile (a shy one), thank the audience/judges, then sing the last song not because she wants to- but out of respect for AI traditions.

Well, what more can I say...go girl, goodluck. As of this writing, she has recently rendered 'I Hate Myself for Loving You' (top 8, make it 16 for both genders). Not bad that, but since that kind of music is not on the top of my list of favorites, I cannot say that it resonated with me. Here is my take, she might place in the Top 3 or 4, but she would not win the Ultimate AI crown, because America as a whole would not want a rocker as the Champion. (No offense to rock fans and to rock performers). This is just an opinion, but an educated opinion at that.

Win or lose though, she gets my vote for the "Most Interesting Persona" for this particular batch...and I am referring to the field of 24, not just the ladies' side. Still, if she manages to get the Ultimate Bacon, I would just be surprised, not shocked. After all, she is a true dark horse in this competition, and in case you are unfamiliar with the etymology of the phrase "dark horse", it came from -of course- racing. It means the trainor has managed to conceal the true strength of
the horse, and the horse surprises the public by winning over the favorites.

Well, a self-contained individual is quiet by nature, in the quietness (hmm, is this in the dictionary?) lies the mystery. In the quietness lies the possible surprise. (Who knows...she may suddenly spring "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" one of these days...I will surely watch that).

Now, it is my turn to be self-contained, I will contain myself because I feel the strong urge to keep on writing about AI. I'll stop (for now), before I start expressing my bewilderment over the fact that Simon Cowell really liked the rendition of "Hallelujah" by a male contestant, while showing nonchalance over Eze's wonderful performance (that's 'All the Women I Need'). If I don't stop right now, blogger.com might suddenly email me with a message saying, "Hey dude, NO TOMES allowed in here".

I Don't Want to Say 'Good Riddance' But...

...it is really what I want to say...what I want to yell out, but I'd rather not.

Let me start by saying this, I am actually against abortion, save for those isolated cases where the raped individual got pregnant due to the atrocious act- making me pro-life. HOWEVER, I am for the death penalty, whether it is by the chair, lethal injection, HANGING, firing squad or by stoning...all of them boil down to the same thing. Most particularly if the offender has committed the most horrendous of sins against mankind and society, which this (former) head of state did. Fact is, if he were a cat, it would only be just and proper to execute all his nine lives. (I don't mean to sound cruel, but it is an honest opinion. This stand on capital punishments (in turn) makes me, well...anti-life. (That is why one friend remarked: "You must be schizophrenic, you are made up of 2 personas"...he said that half in jest though).

Talking of Saddam Hussein, I am on the camp of the multitudes who rejoiced with the verdict of hanging. No, let me be more specific, I really did not rejoice...I was just glad that finally..FINALLY...the nightmares of the relatives/families of all the people who got killed would finally abate. The execution of Hussein would not bring these murdered persons back to this plane of existence, but it is a major balm to the emotional wounds being carried by the said relatives/families.

Out of the ten commandments, what is the most well-known? I think it is: Thou Shalt Not Kill. Technically, Hussein might not have killed a single person with his own hands. However, common intelligence would lead us to conclude that ordering one's henchmen to do the act for him is basically the same thing. (If God could talk to us right now, I am sure He will say the same thing). HOW MANY PEOPLE DIED- RATHER GOT MURDERED - DURING HIS VERY LONG REIGN? I will not put a number here, not even an estimate...it would seem pointless...suffice it to say...they went by the multitudes.

With all due respect to his countrymen who idolized him...this guy is the Hitler of this generation...of my generation. That being said, let us still offer a prayer (whether a tiny prayer or a novena) for his soul. That the Lord in his infinite Mercy could still allow Saddam's soul to be accommodated in blissful state. Fellow human beings have judged him...that's why the last thing on earth that Saddam saw was a rope. But that was mortal judgment. Divine judgment is for God and God alone. You may be saying "good riddance"...but let us still be pitying enough to offer a prayer for this individual. Whether you would consider praying for his soul as equivalent to forgiveness (on crimes against humanity) or not...I think is moot. He is dead after all...he did not die a natural death...he already paid his crimes with his life. (Although I will refuse to say that one life could offset the hundreds and hundreds of lives...all of which were taken against their will.)

Saddam is gone...we could now close this chapter. It does not mean that in the closing of the chapter, we will bury the book. It behooves all of us to make sure that this execution will never be forgotten by our children and our children's children and our children's children's children. Only then will we be able to imbibe in them the fact that at this day and age...we still have justice running in this world.
Mr. Hussein...I am glad that you are gone...but I'll offer some prayers for you still. The final say rests with our Creator...and ULTIMATELY...you would have to answer him when he asks: "What can you show me that embodies your love for humankind?"

Cockroaches

(Writer's Notes: I assume that you have seen the pic before you managed to read this, in which case, you can do either of the two in case you are eating right this moment. One, you can go to another site OR you can turn off your computer for the meantime. Yes, you have already seen that ugly cockroach, but at least you can finish your food in peace. I am talking to those who are easily disturbed with pictures of insects, murders, violence, snakes, and the like.)

There, having said that, let me go on. No, lest you think this is another letter, this time to a cockroach...you are wrong. Although there was a time in the distant past when a cockroach followed me for half a day- it followed me wherever I went. Don't ask me how I knew it was the same cockroach, I JUST KNEW. I think that if I conversed with it at that time, it would have talked. The 2 of us would have gone down in history as the pioneers of the "New Era: the Forging of Friendship Between Humanity and the Cockroach Community". Such a shame I did not do it then.

I have four facts for you today, on the topic of cockroaches.

1. On a nuclear blast (global scale): this I'm sure most of you already know. If the cockroach is near enough, it surely would get killed by the blast...as surely as if any person stepped on it. However, if it is a continent away, it would survive all that radiation. Fact is, according to experts, it would probably be the only living thing (I am excluding plants) that would remain alive.

2. If you see a cockroach flying, it is a female one...it has to be a female one. Most people think that they fly because...because...because...well, because they can. Wrong, the female is about to give birth and she is looking for the most convenient place for her to lay her eggs. So, if you are one of those committed to stop the population boom of the cockroaches, next time you see a flying one, chase it up to the ends of the earth, if need be, then kill it.

3. Microwave oven: Have you ever wondered if one puts a cockroach inside the microwave oven...will it die? Answer is : the heat is not uniform inside the machine, the plate of course is the concentration-point of the heat. If the cockroach manages to go under it or anywhere outside that concentration-point, it might just live. If it gets hit by the focus though, it should explode. (Hey, if you have gone back to eating while on this part of the article, sorry. I told you to finish that, whatever it is you are eating.)

4. Headless state:
Actually, a cockroach whose head has been cut off will still die, but unlike humans, it could survive for a long time. In theory, it could last up to a month, believe it or not. Consider these facts pertaining to humans:

One, we do our breathing via the nose/mouth. Our breathing is controlled by the brain, and next...second: a beheaded human will die immediately due to a dramatic loss of blood and the blood pressure drop. Another thing, third...even if this person experiences a great miracle and does not die at once...question...how will he/she eat?

Now, we go back to the cockroaches, all the aforementioned reasons are not applicable to them.

They breath via spiracles which are located on every body section. These spiracles bring air to every cell via a group of tubes (tracheae), and breathing is not managed by their brain. Their blood pressure is not akin to the mammal's, thus separating the head from the body would not result to uncontrolled loss of blood. Cockroaches need less food, our 1-day meal would make them capable of surviving up to one full month. That is, assuming it will not be very busy, thus...if it is an athlete-cockroach...it will die pretty soon.

Cool temperatures coupled with all these might just allow a cockroach to live up to one month even if it's head is already kilometers away from it. Fact is, more than its headless state, an infection from a bacterium can kill it first.

There...I am done...cockroach anyone? Er...what I mean...it's your turn...anybody with a cockroach trivia/datum for me? I am all ears...in this case...since it's a blogsite...I'm all eyes...with my head in its rightful place and fully secured.

Adieu to a Lady Who is All These: Stranger, Acquaintance, Friend...and a Kindred Soul

I stay in a boarding house, there are 13 rooms (units) in the establishment. There was a couple staying, a female couple. Natasha is straight, her partner Megan is a lesbian (it is the politically correct term right?).

Truth is, there is nobody in the whole boarding house whom I could consider as a very good, very close friend, but Natasha (and another lady)could come nearest to it. They and I stayed under one roof for approximately 7 or 8 months. Their relationship as a romantic couple was "rocky", as manifested by their vicious arguments. (They did this behind closed doors but the walls are paper thin, the entire corridor could hear them.) Still, having observed them, I thought that the two of them really loved each other.

Let me say this though, lest you think I see either (or both) everyday, I did not. My work calls for the longest hours, and there were times when I would not see them at all, say for one whole week.

About a month ago, Natasha left. She simply packed and left, leaving Megan behind. (From what I have overheard, Natasha went to live with a foreigner, my guess is she would be going with him abroad). I would not say what I think of her leaving, I am not going to judge her, I have my own sins. I'm not going to judge Megan either, again...I have my own sins.

I was actually more sad than shocked. (I told you I am self-contained, very few things on earth could really give me a major shock.) Sad for Megan, because I can just imagine how hurt she was, even if she is (still) a non-friend (read: not necessarily an enemy)...my heart went out to her. Sad that I would not see Natasha again. Sad that we were not even able to say goodbye to each other.

Thus, I am writing this as a form of saying "Adieu" to a lady who has been so many things (personas) to me.

She is a stranger, after all...it can be argued that people sharing the same roof with non-family are all strangers to each other. Even if they claim to be friends. I went back to my mental files to see if there was ever a single time where Natasha and I (with or without other people) spent more than 2 hours together...in anything. Nada, not in talks, not in that one-time-never-repeated drinking session, nada.


She is an acquaintance, more often than not...we simply passed by each other at the boarding house's premises...nodding hi with (or without) a smile. Well, that's what acquaintances do right? She knows my name, I know her name...thus...acquaintanceship. She knows what I do for a living, I know what she does for a living...thus, acquaintances.


Friend? Now we go deeper, I do not consider just about anybody to be a friend...I have certain criterions. One of which is: he/she must be able to hold something in confidence...something personal I disclosed...and he/she must pass my “test”...that is...keeping mum on it. Natasha did so, or at least I never had any suspicions that she betrayed my confidence. One time, at the restroom area of my boarding house, we managed to have a little chat in privacy. I opened up something (not very personal, but something I would not want the whole world to know)...I wanted to seek the honest opinion of a female, unlike Megan...I needed a straight female's perspective. She gave it, I asked her to keep it in confidence, and I think she did. In that respect, she is a friend.


Kindred soul? In this, it's kind of hard to elaborate, but I'll try my best. One time, we had a “mini-drinking” session, just “mini” since it was just one bottle (San Mig Light) for each of us, oh...Megan was with us. It was a threesome “bonding” moment. However, before Megan arrived, (she went out to get the beer), there was around 45 minutes where Natasha and I were in complete privacy. There, we had our most intimate talk, “intimate” in the sense that she gave me a “super-cap” of her lifestory. It was not exactly unique (her life's circumstances and past), but interesting nonetheless. (I did not give mine, she did not ask...that's the way I am). I was in a way moved by the fact that we were...we are (still) fighting the same “demons.” (What demons...I cannot say in here...not even if a gun is pointed right at me, sorry). We differ in our past(s) and our reactions to life's adversities...but we are facing the same “demons”. I did not tell her that on that particular night, but as I looked at her once when she was looking afar...I thought to myself, “this is somebody whose soul came from where my soul came...we are KINDRED”. I felt sad that time, I don't know why...but maybe it's knowing that another person is suffering through the difficulties that I am faced with...and I know how hard life is with these. Facing those “demons” is the cross our Lord was referring to when he said “carry your cross”...and He was talking to both Natasha and me. We are indeed “kindred”, if only in that singular respect...but for me, it's a significant one.

She did not even leave me any number before she disappeared, only God could make it possible for me to "reconnect" with her anytime in the future. I was not even able to give her my mobile number or this blogsite address. Only God could make it possible for her to stumble upon this site (accidentally). Still, I have my faith...if the Lord could part the Red Sea, and if Jesus could come back from the dead...then they (he, if you believe in the Holy Trinity concept)could create a way where Natasha and I will meet once more.

Natasha, you are out there somewhere. I never thought I'll say this, but in some ways, I will miss you. I'll include you in my prayers. Above all else, I wish you happiness...after all...we are kindred.

Be well Natasha, vaya con Dios. I will keep those memories.

San Mig and Secrets,


Owenf

The Last Gladiators on Earth (Part 2)

This is just my Part two on this theme, yet the Morales-Pacquiao saga is already on its Part Three. I don't know what it is with these two guys, they should let enough alone. As the immortal Beatles song puts it, they should "let it be". Both or either of them could claim that he is the better fighter and the statement could not be conclusively disproved. After all, without a rubber match, both of them got a win, and both matches were of high interest from the sport's technical vantage point.

From what I've heard, this is going to be their last face-off, good...thank God for that. If it were not so, then the loser of this Part Three match could insist on a Part Four. Then, if after Match 4, the career scores turn out to be 2-all, they would go on a rubber match (Part 5). It can go on forever. (We might see two 70 year old+ boxers fighting still eons from now, if you get my drift.)

I will not say who I am rooting for, nor will I say who for me is the OVERALL stronger player. Suffice it to say, I think Morales is the more WELL-ROUNDED player from a technical perspective. Pacquiao on the other hand has MORE HEART and has the stronger KILLER PUNCH. Morales is more THINKING. Pacquiao is more BRAWLING. (I am NOT saying Pacquiao is incapable of strategic thinking, he can of course, he showed that in their second match.) Both boxers have my respect, although to say that I idolize either would be a stretch.

I don't know about you, but the loser of this rubber match would probably have nightmares in the following weeks, maybe months. He would be asking himself "Why did I ever allow a rubber match to happen?" when he is all alone with just his conscience, memories and thoughts. The winner of course would have all the bragging rights, but my belief is this: the Part 3 winner is not necessarily the BETTER boxer. After all, the rubber match victor could lose a fourth match, and everything would be back to scratch. Which brings me back to my point earlier, this could go on forever. (Only God could answer the "what ifs"...all of us could just speculate until all of us get blue in the face).

Oh well, even if a miracle happens and Pacquiao's and Morales' managers get to read this, I don't think they would dare change their minds on this match, this after all...means big serious money. (I cannot blame them really, if such amount would be offered to me, I'll probably volunteer to box it out with a T-Rex, or a train moving in full speed.)

I am not going to say "goodluck" to either of these 2 "gladiators". However, this I will say, to the future winner, give us a little humility, you are NOT MUHAMMAD ALI. To the future loser, don't ruin your life over it...lose some days' worth of sleep, but go on with your life...there will be other opponents.

(And) Please...no Part Four please...I am begging you. If you want to face off again after this rubber match, do it in another athletic line...chess...or one-on-one hockey. At least it would be refreshing to watch, and less blood too. (Blood in chess? THAT would be a first.)