To rest my freaking senses (and yours as well), I am giving you something light and cute for the weekend - My very own scandal.. este, my story as a young boy many moons ago :)
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So If Superman can spin-back the Earth for real, I would ask him to stop it during my naïve days. Back to the time where my world is small yet filled with genuine smile, animation and fondness; Where fun and adventure rule over petty grudges and worries; and when the heart is full of marvel to experience the unknown. Above all, when the future is emancipated from life’s grim uncertainties.
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“The Missing Pandesal”
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How can I overlook nanay’s morning embrace when I was 5? Her tap in my back and sweet caress is like the warmth of a rising sun grooming me for the joy of a new day, and of my regular breakfast - plain rice swamped with sweetened coffee, altered with freshly-baked pandesal (bread) in melting butter. The latter she would asked me to enjoy with little (and to speculate, breakfast-deprived) peers outdoor. I comprehend thru her the essence of SHARING & GIVING – even at sometimes, or at most times, nothing left to my tiny hand at all - like what happened to my pandesal that morning. I remember coming back to her and said: "Mother, Mother, I learned as well the value of grip and vigilance". :D.
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“AJ’s Pet"
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The untimely murder of my First pet is one of my eardrum-braking scream recorded when I was 7. Mine is not the usual one - A chicken mistakenly known as crow for his deep black feather and long beak causing my superstition-loving neighbors to name him Uwak (Tagalog for crow). My peculiar bird, to my great horror and dismay was gunshot by a cold-blooded assassin which I failed to probe and murder-back (kidding). Dinner time. I remain in grief-mode and in tears. Not only for my chiken’s sudden exit, but incensed by the fact that an uncle double-murdered, cooked and served his chopped limbs to my very front. Did AJ consumed it? Not certain. But what I'm sure about is I LOVE TINOLANG MANOK (and my pet, -my poor turned delicious pet - was prepared to me in such a way). :(
“My Big Day”
I muse over the day when my doting Tatay would asked me to choose between goin’ for a local Karate film with P20 in the pocket (something P200 now) or a food treat at home for my special day. Clever me at 8, I opted for cash & film - knowing my fave’ auntie (+) who has a heart of gold would still make for me her sticky rice (biko) and chinese noodle specialty (pansit) – “for long-life” she whispered, her generous way of covering the normal absence of cake, ice-cream and balloons in my bdays (which father, i understand can't afford back then). It was a Cool bid. One of the bestest treat or trick present I had. Hapi pouch + Hapi belly = HAPI-BDAY to me! To my late Aunt Remy, if she read mine thoughts from a distance, Txs for making my many bdays complete, and noteworthy :).
“Monster Wheel”
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Home-town Feast. Lots of games, funny shows and rides. I’ve been an avid patron of the event that I would hunger myself at school just to save moolah and pay for the fiesta' carnival gimmicks. But there is this one attraction-ride I learnt to curse after giving me an indescribable tremors at 9. The illustrious Ferriswheel of George Ferris. I dare thought suing the Genius behind, and make his creepy invention be held liable for my acrophobia. Last Dubai Eid Festival, I did attempt facing my fear of open height with another round of FW ride. Alas, the emotional pay-off I had 20 years ago, just went exactly the same. Heck the irony, I’ve been 100,000 ft. above the ground by airplane several times (more than my age actually) and im feeling cloud nine (but this ..@!# mechanism!). As an adult at least, I no longer sh*t my pant!.:D
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"Rainy Day Connection"
“Rain, rain go-away, come again another day!” My young fellow’s ritual song as they care to play in dry soil. But not my rhyme when I was 10 and below. I fancy on heavy rain w/c cascade similar to a waterfall flowing fastly over my head. Dang! I badly miss those wet days of merriment and careless abandon when the nature touches closely my skull, skin and carefree spirit - and when I madly spool my naked body (picture here a dog freed by the master) in thick beds of grass, of fading brown mud, and tough wind. My parents, ah they could outshine the rage of thunder and lightning as they lo and behold their precious son (me), in they think disgusting, for me is divine state.
I freaked-out to the fullest when our town's rice-field metamorphosed into an exciting swimming ground for there is where I can dip my legs and bathe liberally all the way, - oblivious whether I swim-deep with "non-humans" and gulp the “mineral” from the natural water.
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Barely a week after our very own "Independence Day" were, for 111th time, commemorated, my blogging head remain wordless, brain’s empty as my eyes ogle slothfully before my virus-plagued PC. I ponder what to write in honor of the occassion - and of my History Professor who once taught our snoring class to never disregard the red day of liberation in the Calendar, even we, then the nation's hope and future aged or desert the Philippines for good. 
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of men and women who defy the road's peace and order rules ...
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