Thursday, July 7, 2011

Chompin Humans

Does anybody ever wonder how much we, humans eat?


Ok. I may be a bit too fast. Let me tell you why this question popped out of my mind.


Rewind…


One night, just like any normal night I am sitting in front of my computer. My well cushioned seat is already warm with my natural butt warmth, a sign that I am still alive and clicking (mouse) and also an indication that I have been sitting there far too long. And what am I doing? I’m browsing a page popularly known as Facebook. Typing some comments on pictures and statuses of my friends which I hope would make me look either witty or funny.


Let’s face it, everyone does.


Facebook has become a phenomenon. It also defied all the privacy rules our elders once protected so valiantly during their days. Today most people who visit this so called social networking page do these; Allow their friends (and strangers) know where exactly they are at that precise moment, share what they are currently doing and feeling and tell and show what places they have visited.


In short, we allow other people to have a peek into our everyday lives and have a bit of an access to our brains as well. The scope of the word privacy is getting smaller each day.


Another fun thing that we love doing these days is posting pictures, everybody has gone digital when it comes to pictures. We now see it every single day. Face pictures with tongues sticking out , portraits of people flashing the “peace” sign (hippie’s rules!), photos of girls blowing their mouth which honestly looks ridiculous to me, photos of half-drunk men raising their glass to the person holding the camera, almost anything we think worth posting, we post.


But there is something I noticed which made me wonder on my very first question above.


For the past two or three years I have seen so many pictures of food which I only see on cookbooks and McDonalds counter before this phenomenon existed. All of a sudden, pictures of food and people eating are flooding the facebook pages. It doesn’t matter if they are showing the people with food or the food itself, they are everywhere.


We love food, period.


People gather for special occasions like birthdays, Christmases, Thanksgivings, weddings etc. And to make everybody happy we put food on the table. It won’t be a successful gathering if we go home with our bellies empty. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time people come to eat. Every one is a cookie monster, so to speak. We chomp and we chomp and we chomp. We are all like a pacman, no wonder it was a phenomenon in its own right back in the eighties. We are born to live and to live we EAT, simple as that.


So it is now clearly established that people love to eat. We do this repetitively on an average of three times a day, seven days a week, thirty or so days a month and so on and so on. With this in mind and with information at my fingertips (google) I did some clickin, typin and computin ( I dunno, I just felt cool omitting the ‘g’ from those words). And what did I stumble upon will shock every human being who would read this (I am guessing somewhere between four and five, my wife and I included).


Are you ready? Here goes:


Fact, Earth is about 4.55 billion years old. Fact, there are currently close to 7 billion people on this planet. Fact, 50 years ago (1960) the population is almost half of the population today registered at just over 3 billion. Fact, the earth’s mass is 6.0 × 1024 kg, or simply 6,600,000,000,000,000,000,000 (6.6 sextillion) short tons (6.0 sextillion metric tons). Now that’s quite heavy.


Where am I getting at? Here, if our population growth becomes steady for the next millennium or two which means double every 50 years and each human continues to eat an average of 1 Kilogram of food per day, the mass of food we would have eaten would equal to the mass of… wait for it… the ENTIRE EARTH.


Yes, according to my calculations it is safe to say that we could have eaten the entire planet in a little over 15 centuries that is one and half millennium from today. You might say my theory is absurd and bizarre but it’s a plausible theory nonetheless.


Can you imagine? Us the people living on earth can actually eat food equal to the mass of the planet we are living in, less than two millenniums from today. That is mind boggling. It’s like Burrrrgggggee... (mind blowing, with hand gestures and spit flying).


Not to mention the amount of food we Homo sapiens have eaten for the past 4.55 billion years. WOW! That is awesome! Think about it.


Now, there are only two things I can conclude based from what I have written above, either I have a very playful imagination or I just have way too much free time on my hand to actually take notice of this.


You decide.


I’m HUNGRY. :o)


A Sad Tale

I am the center of attraction.

Friends and relatives alike always take notice of me whenever they visit.

My family always makes sure that I am up-to-date with every occasion worth remembering.

I am the source of their happiness.

But that was then.

Now, I sit here alone.

Nobody notices me anymore.

I haven’t been updated for God knows how long.

I am now forgotten and longing for attention.

One day, I was pulled out from where I was resting.

In the beginning I couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

Dusts were wiped off my covers and my pages were once again opened.

I felt the touch which brought warmth and a feeling of nostalgia.

I haven’t felt that good in a long time.

Finally, the bad dream has been broken. Or so I thought.

Suddenly my plastic lamination was torn off.

Pictures were taken one by one.

Pictures I have embraced and protected for so long.

Pictures I kept and have been a part of me.

One by one they were placed on a scanner.

I heard about a similar story like mine some time ago.

I just didn’t realize it would also happen to me.

Postal stamp was the first to complain.

And I’m pretty sure you heard about the story of Dyolen, Sipa, Goma, Teks and others.

We suffered the same fate.

Forgotten in an era they now call “Digital Age.”


:o)


My Hero, my Friend, my Handkerchief

I seldom go out without a handkerchief. When I started going to school my mom introduced this tiny piece of cloth into my life, and I have been carrying them ever since. In fact my right pants pocket is strictly for hankies. Loose coins go to the left. Candies go to the left. Small toys go to the left. Chewing gum for reuse of course goes to the left.


Everything except hankies goes straight to the left.


When I was young, hankies were the recipients of my occasional spills. Milk, orange juice, chocolate drinks, yakults you name it. They were always there when I need to wipe the sweat off my face, when I need something to sneeze on and not to mention my occasional “Pfffffftttt” when I have a runny nose.


They are one of the most useful inventions man has ever made, right next to the moon buggy of course.


During my high school days, it was my favorite gift for my girlfriends. I used a plural word because I had 2 or 3 back in HS but not at the same time of course (whew...) Reason is because it is easy to find, very useful, colorful with fun designs and of course the most important thing is; it is not very expensive. It was one of the nice things my allowance could afford at that time.


I know, I know. You heard about the elders saying; it is not good to give out hankies because you only gonna make the receiver cry. I don’t believe any of that stuff. For me I believe more in my pockets than my elders.


Before Facebook, Friendster and other social network sites came up; Filipinos have their own way of expanding their so called social network. They use hankies. Yes Hankies. You get an invite when you see a girl drops a hankie. Intentionally, unintentionally it’s very hard to distinguish. And you accept the invite by picking it up and running after her. I believe this is still being practiced up to this very minute.


Yes, hankies have been around since time memorial. It was even speculated that on the original version of Noli Me Tangere Maria Clara used the hanky drop trick to get Crisostomo Ibarra’s attention. Of course that is just pure speculation everything depended on Jose Rizal’s imagination. Even Andres Bonifacio has a red handkerchief over his shoulders when he tore down his cedula in Balintawak along with thousands of Katipuneros who bravely fought the Spaniards after that.


Somebody should put up a monument to commemorate those hankies that fought alongside our Katipuneros.


Here in Singapore, they don’t fancy handkerchiefs like Filipinos do. Here they use tissue. Tissues here are sold everywhere. Everybody carries a packet in their pockets because you don’t get a free tissue even if you buy a meal. You have to buy them separately. Here, tissues are recipients of their occasional Laksa, Hokkien Mee and Hor Fun spills.


Following the saying; “When you’re in Rome, do what the Romans do”, I did what they were doing. I try to carry around a packet of tissue whenever I can. But my right pants pocket is still reserved for my handkerchief.


So when I came here I had a dilemma. I’m not sure which pocket the tissue will go in. So I decided it will be on my left breast pocket. If I’m wearing a breast pocket less shirt then I don’t carry a tissue at all. I just rely on my old friend.


Today I found the tissue useful. Maybe they are not as efficient as my trusted friend down on my right pants pocket but it’s alright. They can address to most of my occasional spills and wiping my face perspiration but one thing I learned about tissues is they cannot hold off my most nasty nose “Pfffftttttt”.


They shatter into pieces. Unlike my battle weary friend.


:o)


Seryosong Kasalan

I have always been amazed with wedding invitations, specially the poems and the couple's pledge of love that goes with it. So when it's our turn to get wed, being a self-proclaimed nonconformist I decided to write our own wedding poem that says exactly what and how we want to say it. :o)


Sariwa pa ang lahat sa aming isipan

Nang aming mga mata’y unang nagtipan

Isang ngiting naka-ngiwi ang pinakawalan

Pa-beautiful eyes with matching ngisi ang isinagot naman.


Simula noon, kami’y naging mag-tropa

Umaatikabong asaran, biruan, at kulitan sa opisina

Minsa’y inuman hanggang abutin ng umaga

Aming kalooba’y lihim na nahulog sa isa’t-isa.


Lampas sampung taon, ang lumipas na pala

Simula nang nangyari yung first stanza

Ngayon ay hihingin na namin ang blessing NYA

Upang ang aming tipanan ay ma-formalize na.


Sa araw na ito, kayo ay magiging witness

Sa pagmamahalan na pwede na sa guinness

Sa dambana maririnig nyo ang matatamis naming YES

Para sa pagsasamang wagas, until we lay to rest.


Bago pa pala namin makalimutan

Ang aming pamilya ay malapit nang lumisan

Sa Singapore kami ay maninirahan

Kung kaya’t CASH na lang at wag na kagamitan.


:o)


Mad World

I posted this entry to my Friendster blog on July 26, 2007.


Sitting in an MRT train is a man holding a bible, eyes fixed on the thin fine pages. His hand keeps on flipping the pages. Pauses for a couple of seconds, as if reflecting and checks if he is being noticed. Then pretends to read again and continues with his page-flipping.


Empty.


A woman talks about her church-going habit openly. She prays, mentions and discusses about her religion with regularity. But then again, she is not well liked by her peers. Is it because she’s too holy for them? Or is it because what she say and do are poles apart? It’s the latter.


Hollow.


A group of people says they are the “chosen people”. Salvation is for them alone come apocalypse. Berates and attacks other religion to the point of threatening their lives.


Neurotic.


Another group, considered as one of the “most devoted” to their religion, speaks about their God all the time and at the same breath swears to kill and wipe out all their “enemies” regardless of age, race and gender.


Madness.


God and religion is being used as an excuse to gain acceptance, fame and power. From an innocent looking man who just wanted to be noticed, to the killers of thousands of innocent lives (and still hungry for more). How a humble act of submitting oneself to God did became a source of all these chaos?


Has the world really gone MAD? Or it was always this way from the beginning?


Famous Ears

I posted this entry to my Friendster blog on August 31, 2007. I hope you'll like it.


When I was young, I hated my ears.

And I sometimes wonder what these are for.

I mean, it’s very hard to clean, with all its curbs and alleys.

It gets in the way when I’m having my haircut.

It also gets in the way when I comb my hair.

They are just two chunks of meat which protrudes on both sides of my face.

Which by the way, I can’t even feel.

Unless of course my mom manage to grab it while scolding me.

And when I was young, I was very naughty.

So you could just imagine how many times these chunks-of-meat have been pulled by mom.

The thing is, no matter how I turn, she still manages to grab one.

Silly ears, hanging there where they are not suppose to.


But that was then.


As I grow up, I managed to appreciate its use.

My friends and I devised a clever way to keep us amused, By flicking each others ears whenever one loses out on a jack-and-poy.

My uncle, the carpenter uses them as a pencil holder.

And my friend uses it as a coin purse.

Some people use them to decorate themselves up.

Nice. Nice. Nice.


As a teenager I started looking at ears differently.

Especially when a girl starts to brush aside her hair with her fingers to show her ear with one swift motion.

It’s really nice to watch.

Whoever invented that move was a real genius.

It’s a sure-fire attention getter.

And it’s very hard to explain why boys are somewhat magnetized by an ear.

One of the great mysteries of life huh!


Today I learned to live with my ears.

I made peace with them.

I have memorized all its alleys and curbs so it’s easier for me to clean them.

I now get angry with the barber when he handles my ears with hostility.

Not the other way around.

But the greatest discovery I made about my ears is it is directly linked to my lips.

A girls whisper never fails to put a smile on my lips.

It doesn’t matter if she’s asking me to lend her some money, Or saying that my feet smell so bad.

The smile will always be there.


In one of Shakespeare’s play, he made the ear famous.

It was Mark Anthony who blurted out one of the most famous lines in play history.

It was, “Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears….”

I bet you heard that before.

I told you it was famous.

The line wasn’t famous because of the “Friends” or “Romans” nor the “Countrymen”.

It was the “EAR” that gave the magical spark.

I bet you can’t remember the next line after that.

I also cannot.

It was as if the world stopped right after the “EARS”

It is a good word.

And a great chunk-of-meat.

If I were Eric Clapton, I’d sing “Ears in Heaven”.


:o)

Until We Meet Again Papa

I posted this to my Friendster blog on July 15, 2007, a day after my Father passed away. This has got to be the hardest blog/letter I've ever written. It took me several hours to finish because I couldn't contain my tears.


He and mom lives in New York and I couldn't be there to attend the funeral. This letter ended up being read as his Eulogy. How I wish I was there to personally read it to him.


I have always been what they call a “mama’s boy”.

I grew up with mom.

You were always away, working.

That is why we rarely share a picture together.


When I was young I was longing for a father figure.

I used to ask myself why aren’t’ you beside me?

Why do you have to go all the time?

Am I asking too much?


But then I came to realize that you were doing it for me, for mom and my sister.

That I am so much luckier compared to what you have been through.

So what I did was I tried to cherish every moment that we spent together.

And I listened intently to all your stories.


You introduced me to history. You made me like sports.

I remember one time; I asked you every part of a song called “we didn’t start the fire”

And you gave me all the right answers.

From that moment on, you became my idol.


Not all people are as lucky as I am to have a father like you.

We may not be together all the time but we can communicate.

We laugh at the same joke; we feed each others sense of humor,

We even had secrets which we share together.


But what really amazes me is how you started everything.

How you manage to put all the pieces together

Like a jigsaw puzzle.

Considering all the things you’ve been through.


You started this journey alone.

Your father died before you could even speak.

Then grandma passed away before you met mom.

You were alone, young and totally on your own.


Most people would simply crumble in such situation.

Most men would easily choose to take the dark path.

Weak people would give up right there and then.

But not you, you were determined to make your life meaningful.


You started this family with practically nothing.

You wanted to become a father for me and my sister.

And for a guy who never felt a father’s embrace I must say you did a great job.

In fact you set the standard so high I sometimes wonder if I could even come close.


Now, as you join our creator

We, your family, the family that you have started, will go on.

We will miss you, for we love you so dearly.

But we will let you go, for we know that is what you want.


We will continue with the journey you started.

We will use the memories that you left us as a driving force.

Because you were the driving force of this family.

A family that has become so loving and caring.


The Baton has officially been passed on to me.

Now let me finish my race and I pray that I will also have a good run.

Thank you PAPA for all the love, memories and strength.

Thank you for instilling in me the values which I now possess.


I will always be a “mama’s boy”

But I will also be your MAN, Forever.

I will try my best to give back all the love that you gave me to my children.

That way, your legacy will continue.


This is not goodbye, not even a farewell.

You have just been elevated to the next level.

Take a bow, have a well deserved rest. My hats are off for you.

Until we meet again.

Peanuts

I posted this to my Friendster blog on June 19, 2007


When was the last time you had peanuts?

My mother used to say it is good for my memory.

I don’t believe her.

But I loved it.


Back in high school I used to munch a bunch of those.

I would normally skip an extra rice on lunch or a cold coca-cola just to save money for a tiny bag of peanuts come dismissal time.

The peanut vendors are too smart to strategically position their carts where I would normally pass on my way home.


Never mind the pimple that keeps popping out, I love that stuff.

By the time I finished savoring the contents of my tiny peanut bag, my index finger and my thumb nails are the cleanest part of my body.

Neat huh?


But I eat those not to enrich my reminiscing prowess but for the pure pleasure of munching it. Yummy.

Now why peanuts?


Because when you live thousands of miles away from your family you tend to think about peanuts.

You tend to rely on your memory.

You tend to remember every detail about your family.

Every birthday, every Christmas, every New Year’s Eve, and even those “araw ng kagitingan” days you spent with them.


You try to reminisce every moment.

Memory becomes your greatest ally.

It is happening to me.

And boy am I glad I was a big peanut fan.


So it is true, mother knows best.

Hooray for Mom! Hooray for those vendors!

Hooray for PEANUTS!

Not only it is good for your memory, it improves your personal hygiene as well.


:o)

My Better Half

I posted this to my Friendster blog on July 16, 2007


I’m not exactly what you call an Alpha Male.

I’m not even a Beta for crying out loud.

I have lots of flaws, I could counter Lindsey Lohan’s prickled face.

I mean, perfection is the farthest thing on GOD’s mind when he scribbled me.


I took some wrong turns and my wife knows that.

But she stayed beside me, she never walks away.

She is always on my ear rather than in my face.

She’s more like my class adviser rather than our school librarian.


My wife knows my darkest side too.

Like how I press my toothpaste in the middle instead of working my way from the bottom.

Or how I always forget to put down the toilet seat cover after taking a pee.

She’s also the only one on the planet who knows that Ben Wallace is whiter than my ass.


But through it all, she hangs on.


Sometimes I wonder if I really deserve her.

Maybe I’m just a lucky guy.

Am I capable of giving back all her love?

I also don’t know. Maybe one day I will ask her.


What I do know is I am glad I am making this journey with her.

For I don’t know how many rough roads I can endure without her.

If I say she’s very supportive, that’s an understatement.


So I guess on this day, Fathers day, I will reverse an old tradition.

Today, on our family, the father will give honor and thanks to the mother.

Because I believe that I am not a complete man without her.


I am not perfect but with her I feel that I am, and sometimes that is all what matters.

I wanna say, thank you Yollie for staying on my passenger seat.

Thank you for being my BETTER HALF. I love you.


:o)

Winners, You and I



I have been down before.
There were times when I felt I lost it all.
But did I crumble?

No lah!

I Fight back. I Pray. I Hang on,
and I reminisce. Yes reminisce.

I try to remember the biggest win I ever had in my entire life.
A victory we all have achieved. A win so glorious it started the ball rolling.
Yes. We share the same experience.
No matter who you are, no matter where you are. We have done it.
Except maybe those ones who started it in a GLASS.

Interested? Read on.

Remember the time when you were in a dark room?
The room was so packed you can't hardly even move?
Where everyone else looks exactly like you?
Remember that? Think hard! It will come back.

Then the room started jerking, slow at first.
Pretty soon the jerking was turned into shaking, you start to panic.
Then the fellow near the door shouted, “get ready fellas!”.
Suddenly, you along with millions of other sperm blasted to an equally dark room, but bigger this time.

You started swimming, then you realized this is a RACE. But there are no signs which way to go.
Others opted the closer path behind you towards the light.
Only to see them disappear as they slide downwards.

Without direction and totally on your own you won the race.
You managed to get inside that wonderful egg.
You beat million of other sperms.
And you are blessed with this thing we now call LIFE.

You see, from the beginning life is a struggle, it’s a competition, it’s about survival.
It’s about being strong and trusting your instincts.
So when you’re down and out, just remember this story and fight on,
for we are all WINNERS, You and I.

*note : this is a revised version of the speech which I have delivered on my speech class during my college days, after the speech, Ms. Lopez, my newly grad teacher, single and with an angelic face never looked at me the same way again.

Her eyes says it all… “Oh God, I have a maniac in class.”


:o)

Sensing the Non Sense

not everything makes sense.

just when you thought you have it all figured out.

there are certain things that isn’t rational.

not all Q’s has A’s.

logic sometimes hangs around with ‘il’ and ‘al’.

I used to think everything has a reason.

i know why most people put their wristwatches on the left hand.

i also know why the buttons on a girls clothing is on the left side.

but this.

as i was traversing the narrow path of endless boutique in plaza singapura, one item caught my attention.

up to this minute, i cant figure out why. WHY?

this is a dilemma.

somebody must have the perfect answer.

but then again, maybe nobody knows.

maybe someone will pretend he knows.

dont ask me. i dont have it.

will the answer be logical? rational? sensible? reasonable?

beats me. maybe. maybe not.

can you explain to me why on earth? how on earth?

this tiny piece of garment called ‘panties’ is more expensive than my levi’s 501 jeans?

go figure.

:o)