Mellow touch stays with us

Lately I have developed the habit of You Tubing for music videos of songs I almost never hear on the radio anymore.

Take for example Kathe Green's Alone Again and Free. Nobody plays it anymore. Not even RJ 100.3 which is about the only FM radio station still playing the genre popularized by DWLL 94.7 in the late 70s and early 80s.

If you're about my age, chances are you also love this kind of music: Stonebolt's I Will Still Love You. Neil Sedaka's Perfect Strangers. Tavares' Hardcore Poetry. Dan Henry's 20 Minutes Before Takeoff. David Castle's Ten to Eight. Dan Hill's Sometimes When We Touch.

The list is endless, mostly those that comprise the soundtrack of our youth. But sadly no longer getting airtime they used to have back then.

Further back in the time when I was still required to sleep in midday lest I don't grow up, I remember At Seventeen by Janis Ian, Lovin' You by Minnie Ripperton, the only song whose second voice was provided by a bird.

When I was making an attempt to learn to play the guitar back in high school, I was bestfriends with Loving Arms, that hit by Rita Coolidge and Kris Kristofferson with the very arresting opening lines.

Love Won't Let Me Wait is ideal on a rainy evening when you're alone with the wife, and that's not just because of the sound of a woman moaning in the background.

Morning, Noon and Nightime fits any given Sunday, and when you're driving home tired from a long day in the office, Great Day should be it.

They don't make this kind of music anymore. Probably they still do, but the kind of stuff they're coming out with no longer has that same effect on us.

Goma and I didn't shave last Sunday

ATHLETES and show biz stars go about in worlds that intersect, and in my line of work, it's not a rare chance when I get to mingle with movie and television personalities from time to time – even when I'm actually covering professional sports. Like baseball.

This was last Sunday when the sun didn't feel like showing up all day. The first game between Manila and Dumaguete was rained out but organizers decided that the pitch was dry enough to let the match pitting Cebu and Makati go ahead.

Cebu, in case anybody bothered to know, is the defending champion in Baseball Philippines. It boasts of one of the country's best pitchers like 27-year-old Joseph Orillana, and a host big hitters like veteran Joel Binarao and upstarts Miggy Corcuera and Nico Uichico.

And, of course, it has the most famous rightfielder in the land – movie actor Richard Gomez.

For some reason, Gomez seemed to excel in just about any sports he went into, namely golf, rowing, fencing, trap shooting. In most of which he became member of the national team and won Southeast Asian Games gold medals.

Baseball, though, is a different story. He is seldom used, and when he gets called from the dugout, he is often struck out, either swinging or standing -- which only meant that he didn't get to swing the bat at all.

And so it surprised everybody at Rizal Ballpark when, on the top of the second inning, he actually hit a linedrive to the right for an RBI single. In basketball, that is about as spectacular as scoring a jumper off a tight defense.

Just the same, his feat didn't merit an interview from the sportswriters who went for Binarao who in the same game hit a grandslam or a four-run homerun – which in basketball is the equivalent of a game-winning slam dunk that even drew a foul.

Gomez just stood there as the reporters milled around the day's hero. But of course, you don't ignore a show biz icon like him. When he was introduced to me, I shook his hands and made small talk like we're friends from way back.

``Pare, hataw yung second inning mo, RBI single yun ah,'' I told him.

``Onga, medyo maganda ang hitting namin,'' he said.

``You remember your championship match last year, when you hit a triple (when the game was all but won by Cebu already and it actually didn't matter anymore)?'' I said. ``I wrote you a feature story for Inquirer.''

``Kaw ba yun?,'' Gomez said, his eyes brightened up. ``Pare thank you, may clippings ako nun.''

We exchanged high fives.

Listen, standing close to him I realized he wasn't that tall. If I only stood straight and didn't wear flat sneakers, I'd probably be about his height. He is also as dark-skinned as I am. His face was small and covered with two-day old stubble.

I also went out of the house that day without shaving. And later after talking to him when I looked in the mirror, I realized something:

If I squint my eyes hard enough, and probably lose some pounds, and maybe straighten my spongey hair, we actually look alike.

Lozada loses battle against rice

I USED to amaze friends who drop by our house at dinner time. I was in midteens back then in Kamuning. That was the time when I was having a four-inch summer, meaning when my growth hormones was working triple time.

The reason was that I can consume a plate brimming with steamed rice with just one boiled egg as viand. Sometimes with a few strands of instant noodles or meat, but the feat revolved around how I can eat as many rice with as little viand as possible.

It's the opposite now. Sometimes I don't have rice at all. But this came to mind after I heard yet another news report on the rice shortage, which is beginning to sound tired and suspicious at the same, if you ask me.

If I remember it right rice shortage wasn't confirmed, and I doubt if it would ever be. But the deluge of news reports about how the price of rice and other basic commoditites have soon buried the issue of the ZTE-NBN deal. The more trendy acronym nowadays was NFA.

Suddenly the same people who watched the Senate hearing live on television as if it was a Pacquiao fight have soon switched their attention to the looming crisis on food (regardless if it's true or not).

Whoever thought of the diversionary tactic did a brilliant job. You want the Filipino masses' attention, strike a chord closer to their stomach. Mas malapit sa bituka mas maganda.

I vacuumed a mouse

I READ IT from the legendary Andy Rooney that vacation shouldn't be taxing to make you feel like taking another after having one. Well unfortunately I think I just had one the past nine days.

The run-up to our grand excursion to the beach was gripped with suspense and slam-bang action. Maxi had back-to-back affairs in school. I had three coverages right on the last day before the trip. Vangie had errands. Mavi was busy wondering what bikinis to wear.

What we left behind were mountains of laundry and a wild jungle, rain-forest of a house. We kept them in the deep recesses of our minds, hoping they will disappear while we basked in the sun and drink margarita and vodka martini by the beach.

But sure enough, we came back home to their menacing embrace. And just as soon as we realized we had a lot of stuff to do, move, transfer, throw away, file, and clean up, the energy we have recharged over the weekend drained just as fast.

There were some excitement in the general cleaning, though.

Like when the juggernaut reached the kitchen –where we also kept our shoes – Vangie noticed something stirring from among the boxes underneath. So she called up the Man of the House.

I'm not afraid of critters, roaches or rats. I once crushed a two-foot snake coiled by the washing machine one evening after arriving from the office. But that was topic for another blog entry.

One by one, with bated breath, I took out the boxes. Silently I was preparing for something to jump on me. But nothing came out until I reached the last box tucked in the corner. I lifted it slightly. Shook gently. And out came a small rat.

It hopped away and scurried by the LPG tank. I didn't make any attempt to hit it or crush it by my feet because I might break things. I slammed the kitchen door so it couldn't get into the house and hold my girls hostage. But it dashed by the table and took cover in the hamper now brimming with laundry. I then took a calibrated preemptive response.

I opened the back door in case it decides to lay down its arms and avoid bloodshed. But the suspect refused my offer. Instead, it took refuge in the back of washing machine, by the umbrellas and some clothes that were strewn by the commotion.

Listen, that washing machine, just because it was located near the back door, has now been a favorite battleground between me and small animals.

But I let it rest. I got the vacuum cleaner and cleaned up the mess. From where the shoe boxes were until I again reached the battleground. I moved it gently. Nothing. Vangie asked if it's gone. I said most probably. I moved the washing machine to a different spot so I can vacuum the floor underneath.

I trained the nozzle at the ends of the linoleum fold and then suddenly things happened so fast. The vacuum cleaner went crazy. It's as if it was choking. There was a loud buzzing noise all the way up from the nozzle to the hose and down to the dust bag inside the vacuum cleaner.

Then there was silence. I looked at Vangie and she nodded knowingly, like some mafia boss happy after an excellent whacking job of a rival family member.

Cigar, wine and speedboat ride

I ONLY used that title for effect, but no, I didn't get to smoke sigar and sip red wine while on speedboat last week. We packed light and the decision to hire a speedboat by the hour came in the last minute – or at least after I made sure there was still some money left in my pocket.

It was the third straight summer we hightailed it to Boracay, the past two years timed for Maxi's birthday. Every single time an experience, so I listed up a few things I observed while vacationing in the hottest destination this part of the tropics.

1.It was perfectly cool to hang around and even walk the whole town without a shirt on. That's regardless of what shape you're in. And from what I saw, the ratio of those sporting a well-toned body is 50-50 to those who don't.

2.I have the license to have an ice-cold beer anytime of the day. The earliest I recorded was 9 a.m. just right after breakfast and the wife absolutely had no complaint about it.

3.You can have fresh seafoods cooked as you like it, but it would cost you almost five times more if you decide to have it by the beachfront than in talipapa which is far less fashionable place to eat while in Boracay.

4.Hotel prices along the white beach have big discrepancy, like it's $300 (or its peso equivalent) a night in Discovery Shores, which lies on the same stretch as Marzons which asked for a little more than $50. We planned to stay out most part of the day, and only need a room to sleep so that should be no-brainer.

5.People can still get hurt in the calm, crystal-clear waters. While we're taking a walk one afternoon we chanced upon a crowd milling around a drowning victim.

6.SEAir is true to its advertising claim of 35-minute flight from Manila. I timed it from takeoff to landing and it clocked just 27 minutes.

7.Topless sun-bathers are extremely rare in Boracay. Women no longer undo their bikini top and when some of them do, they're mostly the ones you don't want to see naked.

8.Nobody reads the newspaper in Boracay. You also don't feel like checking out the TV while you're there.

9.There are plenty of water sports to get into, but the best one for me is people-watching because it doesn't cost me anything and I never had to get off from where I was sitting.

10.Mavi doesn't know who the hell Aga Muhlach is. He passed by us in the airport on the way to Manila and he was short and ordinary looking wearing big shades and faded shirt. Anne Curtis looked radiant even when not opening her wide mouth to smile. Both Mavi and Maxi recognized her.

11.Wearing shades on the beach looked cool, but it leaves racoon marks around the eyes which would then force you to wear shades within the next few days until the color in your face are even matched.

12.Watching school of fish of different colors and live coral reef landscape is more fun on TV than when you're peering at them yourself in the open water meters from the rented boat. If you don't know how to use the snorkel, it's twice as worse.

The school year's mostest and bestest

MAXI had her Recognition Day this morning. It was the prelude to her Prep Graduation Day for tomorrow, and an event to distribute academic and special awards including those in Kinder and Nursery.
One thing I like about the school is that it is very generous about giving away medals. They have an award for just about every pupil for being just about anything.
But before we go there, let me first cite that this year's awardee for the Perfect Attendance didn't make it. On the day his school was to commend him for being there all the time, he chose to be absent. Later the teacher said the poor pupil is downed by chicken pox.
Maxi is very smart and very pretty so I don't really feel bad if others received multiple medals for both academics and special abilities. This year, she didn't make it to the top 10 honors but she nevertheless went home with the Most Disciplined medal.
I was the designated parent on the stage, and when I accompanied Maxi up there with the school officials and bestowed the medal on her neck, I was as proud as the next parent whose kid ran away with the Best in Math, Best in Science, Best in Computer, Best on Language, Best in GMRC, Best on MAPE all at the same time, on top of the honor roll.
I wasn't an excellent student myself back then. I only barged into the Top 10 in Grade 3. My teachers just gave us ribbons for the feat. My first ribbon was in Grade 2 when my teacher deemed me as the ``Best Storyteller'' of the class.
In high school the only medal I got was in CAT class for Best in General Information. Later a buddy who was a high-ranking CAT officer revealed that they just happened to have a spare medal to give away and they thought of bestowing it to the cadet who knows trivia more than anybody else. See, even then it pays to have friends in the high places.
Back to this morning's rites, I noticed that Maxi's teachers appeared to have run out of things to name their awards. One boy received Most Generous award. What would a six-year-old boy do to earn that? He gives away his crayons and shares his lunch?
Another won Most Active. Yet another bagged Most Patient. Am a parent myself and I could very well testify that kids at that age are always active and are never patient. While at it, they might as well give away awards for the student who has best shown Dignity, or Integrity, or Courage.
But the morning ended on a sad note for me. Because I lost the Parent of the Year award for the third straight year.
It was given to a mother who the Principal said was there to pick up her kid everyday, sometimes even braving noontime sun ``without an umbrella.'' She, according to the Principal, was also very active in voicing out her opinions about the school and its policies. I had to disagree on both counts.
First I always bring umbrella when I pick up Maxi from school because I don't want her burned by the sun or soaked by rain. Later in the school year I even decided to avail of the school service, which should be more convenient for my daughter. That actions must earn big points in whatever criteria the school was using.
I also don't complain much about the school and its policies. Except now.

Way of the Cross up north

THE joke goes something like this: One lent, an old lady was praying the Station of the Cross. But for some reason she started it from the opposite end, when Jesus Christ was nailed to the Cross, and was thus going the wrong way.

And when somebody informed her that she got it all wrong, she quipped: ``So that's why Jesus gets stronger and stronger...''

Of course He would. Because Jesus would have been up and about by the time the old lady reaches the last station.

I first heard that joke from the great Joey de Leon many years ago, and just recently I heard him crack it once more in Eat Bulaga. I guess just like beaches and mangoes, that joke comes in season.

Well the reason I used that as grabber is that we're again planning a long drive to Abra next week, Holy Week. I enjoy road trips with the family especially on the long, smooth country lanes of Ilocandia. But my chief concern is traffic.

Based on our experience last year, travelling anywhere out of Metro Manila around that time is almost like doing the way of the cross in itself.

Last year we left Marilao 6 a.m. of Maundy Thursday and arrived in Tayum 6 p.m. We caught the tail-end of the gridlock near Sta. Ines exit and plodded from then on. We hit Luisita in Tarlac where we had breakfast at 9:20 a.m. after only covering 95 kilometers!

The whole stretch of Tarlac was by then the traffic ground zero. We only reached Rosario, La Union (where all Baguio-goers stop) at 1:20 p.m. There we had quick lunch and freshened up. By then we had travelled 191 km. After one hour and 10 minutes we refueled at a small gas station in Bangar, La Union's last town going to Ilocos Sur.

We were already logging on 357 kms on our mileage when we came to Narvacan Junction at 5:15 p.m., which offered a fork to the right if you're heading Bangued and left if you're going to Vigan. But just when I thought it would only be a few minutes to go, it took us another 30 kms and 45 minutes to finally reach Tayum.

On the way back home, we took off 3 p.m. Easter Sunday and made it home 3 a.m. the following day.

The drive back home was even rougher because everybody was asleep. We took many layovers to recharge and keep awake, including one last time in a gas station along NLEX where I had a coke and a chocolate bar. I also did some stretching while the wife and kids were in dreamland. But the eyes couldn't stay open and my thoughts wandered. So I had to take the slow lane all the way and not make unnecesary risk.



It was like taking the penance for all the sins I have committed the whole year.