Goodbye, Steve. RIP

"Death is very likely the best invention of life. All pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure, these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important." - Steve Jobs (1955-2011)

Goodbye, Steve. RIP.

White hair chronicles XXIII

Today is the 3rd death anniversary of my father. He would have just turned 71 if he were still alive. When he was my age today he already had two grandchildren. In contrast, my eldest is just turned 13 last year. My father dyed his hair regularly, I do not. An elementary school classmate of my father thought I was his brother. He was profusely apologetic when I told him I am a son not a brother. It's ok with me though. I just don't know if he thought I was the elder brother.

At SM grocery stores, they have a special lane for senior citizens (60 years old and above). SM personnel routinely tell me I can use that lane. I amuses me because it's still more than a decade away before I can use that lane. What amuses me more is they offer me a seat while waiting for my groceries to be checked out. It will worry me if they start to offer me a wheelchair.

Indeed I seem to excel in looking old. Maybe it's not just the hair. Maybe that's why pickpockets think they can easily pick things off my bag. Which they did successfully the other day when they took off with my cellphone, leaving my earphone literally hanging. On Monday, I want to look and walk the way I did last Thursday so they can pick my bag's pocket again. In the spirit of Jose Rizal's throwing of his remaining slipper when he lost one in the water, I'll let them take the phone charger and extra battery and earphone. I'll have no use for them now.

I recall that my father, being a lawyer, used to have connections with the police. I remember that he can ask his connections' connections to recover items snatched or taken through stick ups. Those were the times when a Seiko 5 was really a Seiko 5 and not just some cool knock off. I wonder if such connections still exist and whether people still want to go through the trouble of recovering stolen items. After all, replacing lost items seem to be the easier route than asking the police who'll just mulct you twice over. But I want my SIM back. It has been my number for the past 8 or 9 years. Maybe I would want to ask my father to assist me in recovering my phone and maybe sneak in a punch or two on the perpetrator. Never mind my brittle fists.

White hair chronicles XX - death and reunion

This past weekend I met old friends from two different chapters in my life. The two vastly different reasons for the occasions are becoming recurring themes for my white hair chronicles. They always remind me of my graying hair.

An office mate from my first job lost her year long battle with cancer. She was a comadre, a very close friend, a confidante. She was a vibrant, colorful personality, definitely a character that you will never forget. When we learned about her diagnosed condition last year, friends and colleagues immediately offered prayers for her quick and full recovery. For a good part of the year, the prayers seemed to work. She regained her strength, her hair and her zest for life. But cancer is such a traitorous disease. It came back to attack her other organs. In the end, her illness may have claimed her mortal body but we, her friends who had a sort of reunion at her funeral wake, know her faith and spirit are unbowed.

Still on reunions - Facebook has brought together my elementary school classmates. A classmate who had lived in Texas for more than half of her life flew into town. She isn't the shy, innocent, prepubescent girl that we knew anymore. She metamorphosed into a sophisticated, articulate, tennis playing mom who can fix flood soaked homes DIY style. Another classmate, who we remember to be another shy girl, has a rather winsome smile and intriguingly fairer complexion in her profile photo. Facebook updates, however, can never be enough. We had to meet in person. And so we did. And we're glad we did.

Thirty plus years may add white hairs and 60 pounds (kilos to some). It may ravage our bodies. But we, my comadre and my batchmates, no matter what, will always stay forever young.

Cerge Remonde's last Facebook entry

Now this comes as a shock. Cerge Remonde, a friend of a friend, an ever loyal supporter to his boss despite the public's collective hatred against her, suddenly died today of a suspected heart attack. What makes his death eerie is his last post, actually a prayer, on Facebook.

White hair chronicles XVIII - Longevity calculators

Kids ask darn questions. My son Popoy asked me last night who will cut his hair when our barber dies. Our barber is a gray haired guy and to my son, he looks to be a rather old man. It seems he still cannot get over the thought that people die. When I told him that our barber is not that old and is not about to die soon, Popoy's next question was "at what age do people die?"

White Hair Chronicles XIV - Itay, matanda ka na ba?

Itay, matanda ka na ba?

My son Popoy, 6,  asked me this last night (are you old already?) Of course, I'm not yet old, I told him. Why are you suddenly asking that, I asked him back. Wala lang, po - it's nothing, he said.

Something must be troubling him after we visited the cemetery where his Lolo Vic (my father) and his grandparents (my in-laws) were buried. We usually go visit them ahead of the throng, but typhoon Santi made us go along with the multitude that were there November 1.

When my father died two years ago, Popoy asked "why did Lolo Vic die?". The quick answer we gave him was "because he was old". Actually my father was only 68 when he suddenly died from heart attack. He was ok despite the operation that drained cerebrospinal fluid from his skull six months before and despite the difficulty in walking due to arthritis. Popoy and his lolo bonded well during the short time they knew each other. Popoy did not meet my wife's parents ever. But he knows from the pictures shown him that they got to be very old. My father was on the fat side and had his hair dyed black regularly. To Popoy, he must not have looked old at all.

So when my wife teases me about looking like a grandfather, and me being so old that cataracts affect my eyesight, plus the visit to the cemetery 'where old dead people' are buried, Popoy must have worried that his father is going to die soon.

It is kind of sweet to think that my young son is worried sick about me.

Moon landing anniversary, moonwalker memorial

This month we celebrate the 40th anniversary of Neil Armstrong's first steps on the moon. He uttered the historic words, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind." It was a momentous event for mankind even as many doubt that the event actually took place. Conspiracy theorists say the moon landing is an elaborate hoax.

This month, too, a memorial will be held for the most popular Moonwalker of all time, Michael Jackson. whose sudden death brought a resurgent interest in his body of work. Just like when Elvis Presley died, many will cling to the belief that Michael faked his own death. There are many parallels in their lives. The drugs, the waning popularity, then the early death. It is also conceivable that many will think his death is a hoax.

Michael was clearly ahead of his time. I can think of many comments about his many firsts, but all are in bad taste now that he's dead. But I'm Bad so here goes. Michael could have been the first black man to become a white woman. Michael could have been the first commercial model for glutathione. Michael could have been the poster model for swine flu hygiene (with his disposable surgical mask and gloves). Michael could have been the first model of hair straightening salons. Michael should not have gone too soon, he could have touched many more (boys') lives.

Arghh, enough already, I'm not that bad. Just sad that the Thriller is gone.

Ammos for the gunless society campaign

Two gun recent gun related incidents should bolster the call for a gun-free society.

In Cavite, six people were killed in a shootout at a public market. Investigations show that the fight started from a petty traffic-related argument. The two drivers figured in a shouting match and threatened to kill each other. After a few minutes, armed backup from both camps arrived at the scene and they started shooting at each other. The patriarchs of the two camps died along with their sons.

In the other incident, a vacationing soldier died after being accidentally shot by his five-year-old son who was helping clean his gun in their home. The man sustained a gunshot wound on the left side of the body with the bullet exiting his right side, going through the front door and grazing his wife. The wife managed to rush the soldier to the hospital but he was declared dead on arrival.

Filipinos have an increasing passion for guns. Notice the many gun shops proliferating. Notice the many Pro-gun stickers. Advocates of a gunless society should be up in arms (figuratively, of course) against this development. If owning cannot be stopped by law, we should shoot for steps to promote responsible ownership.

White Hair Chronicles II

"'In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes." - Benjamin Franklin

I am in that part of the demographics where you have reunions of your nth reunion. Actually, it is that age where you go to more funeral wakes, some 20+ years after the spate of weddings, baptisms, birthdays. This year, I've been to 3 or 4 wakes, the last one just the other night. My father died 2 years ago, after an uncle died, then last year another uncle and my grandpa also died.

Icons from childhood fall one by one. Yesterday, David Carradine, Kung-Fu's Caine, was found dead in a hotel room in Thailand. His character was a boyhood idol of mine; philosophical, inquisitive, bright, pacifist. Another boyhood favorite who recently passed away is Marilyn Chambers. She starred in Behind the Green Door, a porn movie, which by today's standards would bore one to stiff. It did that to me then, in another sense.

People, by nature, are afraid of death and dying. To conquer that fear, we turn to religion which assures us that death is not really the end but the beginning of some other life. Science says that energy cannot be created or destroyed; it merely changes form. But still, it is this life, as we know it, that we want and not some unknown afterlife. So we fight illness, we find ways to hang on to dear life.

No one can win over death. It is a natural part of life that will happen sooner or later. All of us will go, cliche-ish but true. Some have gone, some are in the pre-departure area, all must be prepared. So before we all go to that great big reunion, that great gig in the sky, we hold many reunions here on earth to banter, reminisce, recall our youth, while partaking cholesterol-laden food that will hasten our progress into the afterlife.