MOVING ON

A good friend was texting me after a long while, and has told me he has been in the midst again of thinking of moving from New York City (NYC) after seeing that he's becoming bored in what most people believe as the cultural capital of the USA.  What do I really tell him? Not much. I just have to listen very well. I did listen and thought I could agree with him; he consulted with me many times prior to his moving from Los Angeles  (LA) to here years ago. It does not matter anymore what I told him then. What matters is this moment. Of course,  there's more to this development.  I have other ideas. Who am I to live his life for him? I just believe he doesn't want to agree to the fact that there are people like me who have decided not to retire for good in the Philippines where he and I hail from and have known each other as we went to many super exciting mountain trips together with many more other good friends.  I'm not regretting to say I am retiring here, so I am be

On my way to my part time weekend job this early morning, I was caught in traffic while in my bus on the way to the ferry terminal. The bus driver won't back up to take another route after finding his bus stuck in place and right in front of another bus that was parked in a manner that gave not much space for big vehicles like our bus to get through. We, the passengers, soon found out we had to get out quick and run for the next bus available, which we found at leat a block away. Cursing, I was just so angry about having to run at that early part of the day. I was soon chatting with one of the passengers who would turn out to be the wife of Bill, one of the numerous acquaintances I've met here in NYC the past few years. He's a drunk, and I would soon get confirmation from his wife, who is also from the Philippines like myself, that Bill died at least 7 months ago as of this writing and from complications brought about by his fondness for drinking. Bill's wife, Elena

Of course, I'm perfectly happy that same-sex marriages are now officially recognized by the US Federal government after the Supreme Court of the USA has come up with its decision that came days before the annual Gay Pride Parade. I recall now the conversations that my late good friend John Kreckler made  had with me about the idea of being in a same-sex marriage. You may have to come to think of it, as he and I would have been married if he's still alive today. He's basically monogamous, and viewed marriage as a sanctifying union between two persons. We had gotten to know each other really well such that we were sharing many moments of being together, sad or otherwise. We had so many concerns in our friendship and we couldn't proceed because something was holding us. I have told him about my long term partnership with someone who is still based in the Philippines. And he knew so many other facts about me, which I knew he acknowledged and accepted to be not getting in th

Something similar to what is described below happened in the past few days to someone I know. I'll just be sharing a different narrative to put some kind of heavy drapes to cover the actual identities of those involved. The experience is still so fresh as of this writing. And I know I'll be gaining more wisdom from having learned much about one of these relationships that happen every now and then in our respective lives, the narrative just changes depending on individual circumstances. I'm slowly gaining back my sense of humor and beginning to laugh again at myself. But days ago, I was almost in deep depression. I couldn't accept the fact that I was being dumped by someone who I thought would be an excellent lover for a long time coming, considering the space we've allowed ourselves to meet up with others while we continue being more than lovers. I was probably taking him for granted, and was sending all the wrong signals to him the past 3 years that we've kn

Last Friday evening (Philippine time), a very good friend of mine (as well as the friend of many, many others) was murdered in his apartment. I got the message from another friend on Facebook. I was since then grappling with the shock, grief and anger over the whole tragedy. Gratefully, I've managed to compose a brief poem on my grief . But the sadness still continues. This friend also happened to be posting comments to several of my blogs here, the last of which came out here . click on the title for more...

[Ed's palabok, awesome with red wine, while conversing with him, & getting distracted by what's online!] At yesterday's visit to my friend from highschool, Ed Quiambao, he surprised me again by going out of his way to prepare his home-cooked pancit palabok , his version. Ed ought to seriously consider putting up a food business anytime soon, I went kidding him, which I hope he'd take action soon as he's a happy cook. His wife, Vicky, did all the prep works, while Ed and I were chatting. Click on the link found anywhere here in this posting so you'd get details on how to prepare your own pancit palabok. I'll share here what went on as we ventured into having our dinner last night. As we talked about the travails and joys of immigrating to the US, specifically here in NYC, he was soon making the sauce. He added in oil and grounded achuete in the pan for the sauce. Stirring in the sauce while it's slowly being cooked, he soon finished it by straining a

Can someone tell me how to move on from the grief I've had since learning about John's death? He was found dead in his home, after cops got into his apartment when family members were worrying about unanswered phone calls, as well as unexplained absence from his work. The service held less than a week after John died was well attended by his grieving family members, loved ones, and friends. He was not there anymore, not even his body. John's body must have been cremated following his preference which I also heard from him in one of our talks when he was still around. No ashes but there were floral arrangements. I didn't ask for details about his suicide nor about other details during the service from his sisters nor his father; it was one of the most awkward way of meeting up people the first time (though I have heard a lot about certain people in the room from John himself). I read about the suicide from another posting in other blogs. His Father, whom I got to talk

My roommate, Karen, knocked on the door of my tiny bedroom one late lunch time, and in her broken English, gave me a small bowl of ginataan to eat right away while it's still hot. So that was what she was busily preparing while we were talking earlier about our lives here in NYC as immigrants. I went out of my room, and shared time with her as we both eat ginataan in the tiny space in our apartment where dining, cooking are done in a tenement-fashioned housing here in Chinatown. It's her own version, which reminded me of what we would have back in the Philippines. She's Chinese-Malaysian, and apparently have strong memories of this kind of snack (merienda) fare as well in Malaysia of which she prepared this time. Her ginataan's got the usual coconut milk, with some tapioca, sweet potato (camote) but without sago (that main ingredient that makes up pearl drinks some people rave about during hot summer days!) as she explained that if she put sago, the whole thick desse

I owe it to myself and to my friends to share about these lazy weekday lunches that Roger Calvin would be hosting in his apartment in Roosevelt Island. These lunches started nearly 2 years ago, with some other friends who were visiting from California, and I happened to get myself invited. It was a start of a warm friendship with Roger, who has become one of my mentors, so to speak (I have not told him about it, but he certainly has provided me with wonderful insights on how to go about with the roads and byways that cover the path we all happen to call "life"). Roger Calvin has led a fascinating life himself, and has looked like he's got most from what life showered him. He's retired from full time worklife that included a movie career as a matinee idol, mixed with other endeavors when he relocated here in the US, and seems to be enjoying much of it, and would just be traveling back and forth to locations that fancies him. He, even shares me his ongoing projects

I've taken the liberty of sharing here the video made by Meinard, a dear friend back in the Philippines [read: I would have not done anything like this, if I don't know personally the person taking lead]. I'm delighted to learn from an email exchange that he made a video he originally posted on YouTube, which I tried to blogged on two nights ago but failed to get posted here for some unknown technical reason (it may get posted here, sometime, but I won't worry about it). This serves then as a second article on the said video. I'd rather keep my efforts to do charitable works not blasted about here, nor even to my own network. I'd always remember some biblical entries, to wit: "Matthew 6:1-6. 16-18 1 Jesus said to his disciples: “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father. 2 When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the syna

From Pics of CATS This is the office cat that takes charge of the whole law office of one of my clients. She's "Tiger," and stays somewhere in Downtown Manhattan; she makes sure rats don't dare stay in that office whenever all the workers have gone home at the end of the day..... From Pics of CATS Beatrice, the 1st diabetic cat i've ever known, that i met through Calvin & Matt, in their house in Brooklyn. Bea just loves to eat! Kitty, the cat who sleeps on my bed... {Alberto Giacometti's CAT at the Metropolitan Museum of Art; photo courtesy of Vincent Hayley} Mickey, Jeff's beloved puss! Look at those lovely eyes! He's Dusty. And sadly, he's now gone. He's Sam.... I can't recall this cat's name. That's Margaret! She's Nina, and she lives in Chelsea.

My friend's mother asked: "Why are there so many blacks here?" as we were taking the subway ride to one of our destinations during their most recent, first time tour here in New York city with someone they knew back from the Philippines. Well, I'm far from being baffled actually why there are so many dark skinned people here in NYC. I myself is colored skinned, being lovely browned skinned and getting always noticed, and positively remarked for it. Perhaps, it's just the way some people look down at some people who look differently than they are. My friend, with his Mom, being Filipino Chinese themselves just couldn't helped themselves getting overwhelmed with the diversity, the richness of the experience of seeing, actually seeing ordinarily looking, yet magnificently attired people (by virtue of their attitude) of different skin colors here in NYC, most especially in the subway. They actually refused to take the subway initially, as they have heard bad thing