Weekday Musings

There are times when we dread changes, especially those we can’t control and we are faced with a decision to opt out or bite the bullet. One such life changing event is when your office decides to move out of town and you are given the choice to tag along or part and seek employment elsewhere. The company promises a hassle free departure, without prejudice much like uncontested divorce, should you decide to part – so they say. Commuting 100kms return daily could be a bitch but your hands are tied when you’ve spent many years with the company. You could jeopardize your retirement in case you decide to leave for the sole reason of convenience. I have to make a crucial decision. I sure will my miss my express train and my crossword puzzle ( need to print the online version now πŸ™‚ ) I would be spending on gas this time, a bit more than my monthly train pass. But I could look at the positive side of things. I may miss my downtown walks and gigs with my officemates but I would be working in the suburbs where the air is fresh and golf courses are mere minutes away. I won’t need to pay for parking at the train station and bundle up myself from head to toe in winter. With a good jacket I could just climb into the heated comfort of my car and drive to my office. As they say, you can’t have everything you want in life. It is always a balancing act between the pluses and minuses. We shall see.

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An Un-Christmas Post

When I was about 10 years old growing back home in Pinas, I always wondered how Santa Claus managed to sneak into our home on Christmas Eve to deliver my wish list. Santa was spot on too. He never erred in providing the stuff we eyeballed at our window shopping trip at the nearby city a week or two before Christmas Day. Being the curious cat I spied on my aunt who I discovered was tasked to procure the gifts that me and my siblings wanted. No wonder why she always seemed to know what Santa can and can’t give πŸ˜‰ One day I revealed to my siblings what I felt, that Santa wasn’t real and our parents were the real Santa. Despite being the eldest, I didn’t gain any converts. When we all woke up that Christmas Day, all my siblings had their gifts by the tree delivered by Santa. Mine was nowhere to be found. Sensing that I was about to cry, my auntie told me to look around the house as Santa might have misplaced my presents. Alas, I found my presents in the kitchen area, near the garbage bin. My parents warned me that Santa was upset with me because I questioned his existence and if I continued to disbelieve he may not come the next year. Heck, I was interested in the presents more than anything so I shut my mouth.

Last week my daughter told her friend, ” since Santa never gave you an American Girl doll maybe you can leave your wish letter at our Christmas tree. You see Santa gave me one two years ago.” I interjected – ” Not quite girl. Santa only gives the gifts directly to the requester’s home not elsewhere. That is Santa’s golden rule.” πŸ˜‰ But come to think of it, with the proliferation of the internet nowadays, googling ” is Santa real ? ” could just be a few keystrokes away isn’t it ? I tried and found a slew of fuzzy answers ranging from no, yes, well it depends, maybe but, and what not. Unless young kids venture into the more complex encyclopedic websites , which could be way beyond their league in terms of comprehension, answers.com doesn’t seem capable of giving a definitive answer.
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When Less Could Be Better

When I stumbled upon this video, I was reminded of an incident 9 years ago when me and my wife rented a pretty and cozy little cabin by the lake at a resort at beautiful Lake Tahoe. The “little house on the prairie” πŸ˜‰ was almost perfect but the bed was nowhere to be found. My wife went bonkers and was about to make a scene at the front office when I discovered that the bed was cleverly embedded at the wall close to the fireplace area. It was a Murphy bed – a space saver to the max. All we needed to do was pull it down when we wanted to use it. An ugly confrontation averted. I bet the wife didn’t relish the thought of having our 2nd honeymoon on a sofa bed πŸ™‚

Less could be better. Paradoxical maybe but how true. I’m not a die hard environmentalist and I’m not about to argue about footprint and carbon emission. It would be another blog topic. But I do agree on the smart and productive use of space. My point is more on the stress of managing the extraneous, unnecessary stuff that lie around our home. Anytime you increment the number of your possessions, the stress of managing them increases. It could be costly too. Changing batteries of 8 wrist watches could cost you money let alone the drag of taking each them to the watch store. Remember the days you were a student and your only possessions were a handful of clothes and books ? That was mighty stress liberating wasn’t it?Β Less could be better isn’t gospel but practical wisdom especially during this holiday season when our penchant for acquisitiveness lurks like an evil shadow tempting us to break our wallets. Β Once again, it is the season not only to be merry, but to scrounge around for bargains on anything and amass them at our castles. The say we effectively only use 20% of our wardrobe. 80% of this 20% we consider our favorite, wearing them more often. This translates to the reality that 80% of our clothes are no more than closet junk.

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Boredom City

Are there issues that bore you to death, like you want to puke when you hear them ? Not that they are totally irrelevant but it just that they grab you differently, with the monotony suffocating you gradually, like they’re squeezing your balls ? 😦

Here’s a couple of them for me :

A. Trial of Michael Jackson’s doctor

Common now – what the heck do we really want folks ? Closure as in hanging MJ’s doctor ? Do we really believe the doctor had malicious intent to kill MJ ? For what ? Was he a significant beneficiary to Michael’s will ? I can’t believe seeing the the daily coverage of the boring trial on TV as if people are waiting for an outcome that would ressurect MJ. Michael’s gone and we must let him rest in peace. The doc doesn’t have money like Steve Jobs. You won’t gain anything by flattening him out, suing the heck out of him to milk him financially dry . Others simply want to appease their emotions, believing that their beloved idol was murdered hence the vengeance call to hang the damn bastard who did it. We must not forget that MJ had the the ultimate responsibility to his body. In the end, he was the author of his own misery – not someone else. Unfortunately there are millions of dimwitted MJ fans out there who can’t discern reality from fantasy. MJ is dead. Let’s move on.

B. The RH Bill

This debate had been going on forever and frankly, the topic just bores me to death. What’s the big fuzz about this anyway ? We’re not even talking abortion here (well, others are steering the argument towards abortion when it isn’t to gain traction – obviously) We’re simply extending and funding the accepted family planning practices to the can’t afford folks so that they can reproduce responsibly. And – more importantly, no one is being coerced. Oh well, I guess I better quit talking now.

Here’s a satire video from George Carlin about the sanctity of life. I’m not endorsing Carlin’s views in its entirety but I do like his humor and candor. I’m so bored shit with the RH debate that I’d like to throw this video smack dab into people’s faces , both pro and anti and tell them ” we are all hypocrite bastards – aren’t we ” ?

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A Bit Weird

This summer was quite fun. Weather-wise it was one of the best in recent years, mostly sunny and mild, punctuated by a streak of humid spells. I don’t mind +30 deg C humid days as long as they don’t last for weeks. It keeps the pool warm but makes playing golf an ordeal. Sadly, summer is winding down, leaves are starting to fall and the sweaters are out of the closet. I had fun this summer – the reason why I hibernated from blogging for 2 months. Here’s a couple of interesting places I visited this summer.


It’s my little girl’s version of heaven on earth but for me it was like watching a game where you have no clue how it is being played and scored, much like cricket. The end result ? Boredom to the max 😦 The mission was to bring my daughter’s American Girl doll Nicole to a complete makeover – new clothes, new earrings, possibly a hair job. Frankly, I could only muster enough gusto to hang around the place for half an hour. I never thought the store had a washroom for men πŸ™‚ Anything longer than half an hour was an ordeal, akin to jail time but I had to stick around for my little girl and the wifey ( who expectedly morphed to a little girl again) let alone sticking my wallet out for the financial damage πŸ˜‰

Nicole came into my daughter’s life a few winters ago, when Santa supposedly ( unbeknown to my little girl, she came by Express post days earlier πŸ˜‰ ) delivered her by the fireplace on Christmas day. Santa also brought along a pair of pants and shirt identical to what Nicole was wearing but much bigger in size, for my little girl. The two had a picture by the Christmas tree together wearing identical clothes. It was at this point when Daddy quipped ” Looks like this darn doll is heavy maintenance ” πŸ™‚

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