Virus or no virus
What I actually wrote in our column last Sunday was that at my age, I plan to enjoy the last drips and not the last days of life.
Drips last much longer than days, like the drip, drip, drip, from a leaky faucet that keeps you awake at nights and irritate you all day long, and will only stop when the plumber comes to fix it.
The trouble is that our friendly neighborhood plumber takes his own sweet time before coming over, telling you that he will drop by first thing Monday morning, only he doesn’t say which Monday.
The funny thing is that he reminds me a lot of myself, making promises that I can’t seem to remember, until reminded that the deadline would be the next day, even as I scramble to file a motion for extension of time to file the needed pleading.
Have you ever heard of pleadings not in writing, but in a capsule? That’s it in a nutshell.
No way I am saying goodbye this early. I hope – and pray – that I will still be around when my granddaughter grows up into a fine, young lady, not naughty or flirty, but determined to make her folks and grandpappy proud, with boys the last thing on her mind.
I am keeping my fingers crossed that our Ibaloy blood won’t take the better of her.
Leave the hots to guys like Hollywood mogul Harvey Weinstein, who claims he is the victim of women power.
Reminds me of a Davao businessman who was the president of some civic club or another, who, when accused of rape by a working housewife, nonchalantly remarked; “I am a playboy, and playboys do not force themselves on women.”
Poor guys, they forget that when the women come after you, you are dead meat.
Fight your emotions, never the women. In this neck of the Cordillera, women understand that they too are part of the blame, hence no Weinsteins are being hauled to court one day however, comeuppance will come, shot in the back by husbands they have wronged.
A week or two back, government big shots were saying that their constituents should stay calm and not panic, that there is nothing to fear but fear itself.
Today they are singing a different tune, with different titles even. No lockdowns yet, only community quarantines. A skunk, called by a different name, smells just as rotten.
Our own Health Secretary Francisco Duque says that the World Health Organization may be exaggerating a bit, or what is happening in other parts of the world isn’t exactly happening here. Mild lang, kumbaga.
But guess who the biggest buyers of alcohol are. No, no, no, I mean the other alcohol. Gin, rhum, vodka.
Aside from consulting your doctor, try to stay clean. Take a shower or bath every day, wear newly laundered underwear and clothes, wash your hands from time to time, using your fingers as a yardstick. Two hands, 10 fingers, wash them a dozen times with soap and water.
Before the Covid-19, only bandits and surgeons wore masks, to whom you would lose the shirt on your back after they are done with their respective operations.
Today, even the balut vendor wears a mask, which explains why he has doubled the cost of his wares.
Policemen wear masks when they go to cockfight derbies and pintakas; and so too the young and beautiful ladies escorted by elderly aficionados.
And eating by yourself saves you money. Unhealthy to boodle-boodle or go group feasting.
Avoid crowds, unless you are a pickpocket. Watch Netflix in the privacy of your homes. Do not go to the movie houses.
How sad that the virus has taken the fun out of life. No basketball or volleyball games to watch (no Kiefer Ravena, no Alyssa Valdez) and pretty soon putting a stop to cockfighting but keeping the casinos open.
Consider what DU30 said about POGOs, “Sayang ang pera.” Pera kasi makes all the difference. If your cook, driver, or houseboy wins the lotto, the first person he will look for will be you, not to share his winnings, but to spite you.
Principio? Makakain ba yan?Principio, gago, ang magdadala ng inyong kaluluwa sa langit, and in hell, there won’t be anything to eat either, except Satan’s shit.
My happiest friends are not the wealthy ones, but rather those who put God in their hearts rather than money in their pockets. Please, vestments have no pockets, but you can stuff violet paper in your violet socks.
Have a wonderful summer.