Countdown fever

Don't you just love Decode, Womanizer, and Crush?

When a survey form asked my opinion on who I think should be the Music Video of the year, I left it blank. But there were three bands I think have at least one video deserving of such award: Taken by Cars, Pupil, and Sandwich. Yeah right. Like I’ve watched any of their recent videos.
Anyway, that indecision also proved my ignorance of the television and music video channels – for a while. The last music video I think I last watched was Coldplay’s Violet Hill, which was months ago, and I’m starting to feel guilty on how I’ve been living like a hermit in my room, listening to The Sundays and TLC, all this time.

So tonight, I updated myself by watching a daily countdown of music videos at MYX. Aside from noting how emo-tic Rico Blanco has suddenly become (what’s with the new tweaking voice), I also realized that some trends, like the perpetuation of the “emo” sound, still didn’t change, and that some artists are irritatingly still batting their eyelashes onscreen even if everyone knows that they should be on the height of their retirement.

#3. Decode by Paramore. I might receive a death threat tomorrow if I write something bitter about the band, although I still can’t see anything loathsome about the act, except that their music is overused and abused by local “underground” female-fronted bands who cover “Pressure” and the rest of their album. The video, which is part of Twilight’s soundtrack, is in fact spellbinding, or maybe it was just the visions of vampires and an immortal-falling-with-a-mortal that made my hair rise whenever the red-haired vocalist is tranquilly spilling out her emotional lyrics. With the craze everyone has in the movie, no wonder why the song is sitting unperturbed in the countdown.

#2. Womanizer by Britney Spears. The last image I saw of Britney Spears is a paparazzi shot of her walking around in her one-piece suit during her pregnancy, with the bulging tummy in all. I don’t know, maybe it was just me being outdated again. The point is, it is so electrifying how someone who has gone from pop princess to a wild prima donna to a self-haircutting maniac can actually go back to producing flirt-y hits and trying to look like her old Oops I did it again-singing self. Oh well, it’s better for her to be doing that than divorcing husbands. The video, anyway, reminded me of three other artists: Michael Jackson, Beyonce, and Avril Lavigne, although I will be happier if if it was Beyonce’s video who would grab that second spot.

#1. Crush by David Archuleta – For a moment, I thought: “Who the heck is this guy? I think I have seen him somewhere. Oh well, maybe in one of Hilary Duff’s movies.” Until I remembered that he was an American Idol finalist who lost in the David vs. David battle.
Anyway, I can't help thinking about the cheesiness of the song's title, considering that other artists have used the same teenybopper word for their hits. Then I realized that I actually know the song. It’s the song I’ve been hearing on radio stations playing pop hits, a song that pretty much caught my ears but never made me sing to it. It was not hard to figure out why the song topped the countdown. Aside from his forceful voice and lyrics that is a resemblance of Ryan Cabrera’s, David Archuleta. is cute, although he is not really the attractive type at first glance in his music video. The video, which shows him throwing glances at his crush during their summer getaway, is nothing but a reminiscent of the Aaron Carter-type of music videos: gushy, unrealistically emotional, but nevertheless corny that you can easily predict who voted and pushed for it in the countdown. #

Learning from the coverage

While I was brushing my teeth the other night (of all routines), I suddenly remembered the days when I covered certain events - gatherings, affairs, or anything synonymous, and interviewed a number of Prominentes, from a businessman (twice) to government secretaries and undersecretaries (I sometimes think if there’s an under under secretary too) to movie directors to our college dean last semester. Sure, the experiences are cool and thrilling. Makes you feel like a part of the local media already, except that you are reporting not for any news programs but to your professors or to your college publication. Plus, you’re beginning to love your Journalism major, although you know that are more to come: the number of people you’ve interviewed are nothing compared to your future prospects.

While those instances last sem were enough to make me flaunt my Press IDs more, there were also days when I go home from a press coverage feeling such a wuss. Wrong itineraries. Grammatically incorrect questions. Useless materials gathered. So much for enjoying the pleasures of being “in the field,” I’m beginning to realize that you just can’t zoom yourself in a situation hastily, although there should always be a balance between preparedness and unpreparedness.

And thanks to the bits of humor, embarrassments, and pangs of guilt I felt, I suddenly felt writing about my post-coverage reflections before I can swallow fragments of Colgate last night:

-A beauty pageant coverage can provide you the ultimate boredom. That is, if you’re not really into those kinds of affairs, and if you know that the only thing that matters in your report are the three finalists.

-The National Disaster Coordinating Council (NDCC) has its own website, which is easier to access than their office in Camp Aguinaldo. The first idea also applies to almost every government agency.

-After covering an awards night, the first thing you will tell your roommate when you get home is your conversation with Rafael Rossel.

-But of course, you will not write Rafael Rossel’s words in your report, but Kidlat Tahimik’s.

-If you’re from the print media, try to be the first to interview those you need to interview before bright lights begin spotlighting your subject and a woman with a mic steps in.

-You will never use the maps and prayer bookmarks, like what organizers give to everyone else, for your report.

-You’ll never know if the next person seating beside you is a senior reporter of GMA7 or an attractive photographer of a beverage company.

-Writing a letter of request, particularly an interview request, can be both a habit and a skill. In any rate, however, master the art of making one.

-But some sources do not require a letter of request, because they’re either in front of you or just a call away.

-Prominent people, like businessmen and politicians, are less likely to remember you even if you’ve interviewed them a dozen times already. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.

-Every politician, businessman, and lawyer has their own secretaries that will either attend to you or leave you waiting for five minutes.

Padraska, pros, back for a scene

TEXAS Skater Jeff Gonzalez’ backside lipslide on a 3-ft rail and Ansey Flores’ frontside flip off a funbox may be the next maneuvers on your wish list of tricks, but they’re not the best tricks yet in a day when skate pros gather for a demonstration, like last August 16 at Paco, Manila.

That Saturday, however, isn’t just about the grand demo, it’s also an afternoon of skate competitions as skate apparel Padraska Skateboarding held their fourth event after two years of disappearing from the scene.

Dubbed “We’re back, it’s official!!!” the Padraska team’s return flared-up with the showcase of tricks at the Paraiso Park, first from the Class A and B skate competitions.

For Class A, Pamel “Bambam” Francisco emerged as the champion, his run ending with a frontside boardside on the high rail. Meanwhile, Robert Akuma went to the second spot and Marvin Basinal placed third.

The first place for Class B went to Taytay skater Choco Mangaspar, his last trick a kickflip frontside boardslide with an attempted fakie out from the rail. Harold “Pugak” Dia and Karl Mendoza placed second and third, respectively.

The event also called for the Best Trick competition, where Leonardo “Kilay” Asiodche ended as the winner after a perfect backfoot air and Japan air on the quarter pipe.

Demos were held in between competitions, with Philippines’ pro skaters Jeff Gonzales, Ansey Flores, Geno German, Jun Castor, Jack Nonato, Leonardo Asiodche and new Padraska team riders Jordan de Asis, Lito Tiburcio, Marlou Laquindanun, Jose Folo, Anjo Pineda, and Carlo Sangko showcasing high-end tricks at the park.

The park opened for free skate after the competitions and demos. The event is also brought by different skate shops and apparels such as Malachi Apparel, Melrose Sports, Skate Goodies, Ransak Clothing, Retardo, We Legedary Skateshop, Jackass Skateshop, and Gnarkill Clothing.

-by Krzl Light Nunes,

RJ is Also Listening

FEW names reach familiarity. But if your appellation, particularly your initials are rung frequently in the airwaves, stamped at world-class guitars and concert venues in the metro, you’re more than a ring to the ears - you’re already a bequest in history. In Philippine history, one man reached such acclaim: Ramon Jacinto, the RJ of music industry.

On a Saturday midday, when Makati corporates are hustling out for lunch, businessman and musician Ramon Jacinto arrives in his recording studio, stoic and tranquil, from a visit to one of his guitar stores in Pasig. Once inside the soundproof room equipped with sound amplifiers, flat screen computers, and memorabilia posters partly flaunting his achievements, he eases on a chair for the interview.
Also named as “The Guitarman” by a disc jock, Ramon Jacinto’s legacy can be mirrored instantly in his businesses. Most of his assets are named after him, among them RJ Guitars, DZRJ, RJ 100 FM, RJ TV and RJ Bar. But what relates these holdings, aside from his initials, is the thing that also binds every inch of him: His passion for music.

The third of the eight children of National Steel Corp. founder Don Fernando Jacinto, RJ came from a family of businessmen. “My father was always nationalistic,” he says. “We put up a steel mill as foundations for the country.”

He set up RJ Enterprise, a production that recorded his first band, RJ and the Riots, even before he finished his Economics major at Ateneo de Manila. His band became popular until the late 60’s, and from his group’s name, he decided to name his music-related businesses after his initials.

After graduating, he worked at his father’s steel mill for awhile before taking up Law at the University of Santo Tomas. He established more businesses later like Ventures Bank, a retail store called Save a Lot, real estates and financing businesses, among others.

“I had many other businesses before,” RJ says. However, he chose to focus more on his holdings related to music, a business he started at his parent’s backyard when he was 17 years old.

“I noticed the radio station business here that time, very limited music was being played.” He explains. “So I said, maybe if I put up a station and I played the latest releases from America, a lot of people would listen.” From there, he established DZRJ, which is still operating in the 810 AM frequency.

But when Martial Law was declared in September 21, 1972, the business went off his hands and into the military for awhile. But before he could end up in jail, Ramon and other patriots like Ninoy Aquino already went to the United States, where they became exiles for 14 and a half years. They continued their nationalist advocacies abroad. “We tried opposing him (Marcos) from there.” He and his companions went around, with Ninoy Aquino making speeches and RJ taking part in putting up Movement for Free Philippines and raising funds for the opposition.

RJ also continued making music while in exile. He had a weekend band, and he also recorded “Muli,” a song about his divorce which also became a hit, to his surprise, when he secretly sent it to the Philippines.
When the EDSA Revolution broke out in 1986, RJ’s radio station, renamed “Radyo Bandido” that time, was used by the Enrile faction to urge people to join the revolution after the standby transmitter of Radio Veritas failed. It was later honored with “EDSA Award of Freedom” after serving as the voice of freedom during the historic event.

RJ went back to the Philippines in March 5, 1986. He regained Radyo Bandido, and the station continued to be a news public-affairs station in the AM band. In the late 70’s, he started RJ 100 FM. He continued to air pop hits, like what he did on his first radio station. His radio stations were also the first to discover many talents, among them the group Sampaguita, Heber, and Florante. “They were considered freaks, no radio station wanted to feature them,” RJ says. “So we did and we discovered them.”

RJ continued their mission of discovering artists, this time underground rock bands, when he established RJ Underground Radio 105.9 last year. It played the rock music of the 70’s onwards and original records of aspiring rock music groups.

He wanted to give exposure to good musicians, he explains. But it was not just other artists RJ led to improvement. His music-related businesses also helped him to continue playing his music and keep his guitar-playing skills alive.

Talking of guitar, RJ also expanded his guitar craftmanship through his guitar-manufacturing business, RJ guitars. When he returned to the country after Martial Law, he recovered two of his vintage guitars from the military. But the valuable guitars need refurbishing, so he looked for the best repairman of guitars. He found Rudy Discipulo, who revamped RJ’s Fender Jazz Master Guitar and brought back its tune to good condition. RJ was impressed, then decided to buy Discipulo’s shop, who then held an office in a small office in Quezon City. Up to now, even if Discipulo has passed away, RJ guitars continued to sell world-class guitars at different parts of the country. He also designed guitar pick-up configurations, one of them a guitar than can change to five different sounds, which will soon be made available in his stores.

Inside his recording studio, a vintage black electric guitar stands. It was not an old guitar, he points out, they just made it look like a relic.
RJ also continued to perform onstage, mostly in his RJ Bar, a concert hall that was known 15 years ago as Bistro RJ at Pasay City. He closed it for two years during the Estrada administration and reopened it as RJ Bar, now situated at Jupiter Street, Makati.

His performances, along with other artists who play in his bar, were also shown live at his TV station, RJ TV. He started venturing in the television business 15 years ago, also founding other channels such as Home TV Shopping and 2nd avenue UHF Free TV.

His contributions to the music scene were endless, but it was probably his recording studio that should be boasted mostly. Talking inside the digitally-equipped, carpeted room, RJ recounts some of the dozens of artists that the recording studio and hislabel, Quantum Records has produced. “This is the place where we produced a lot of hits,” he says. “Andrew E.’s Humanap Ka Ng Pangit, Sampaguita’s Nosi Balasi, Denmark the Rapper…even Michael V.”

Now, at age 63, RJ continues to keep the music scene alive, basically through his music-related businesses. He left some of his assets under the management of his children. Three of his six children work at his broadcast stations.

Looking back to RJ’s history, the radio stations, music bars, and guitar shops he owns today won’t probably exist if RJ did not decide to extend and share to everyone his passion and creativeness. Venturing in music-related business is very risky, he says. Too many people are in it already.

But how did he keep his holding stable? “By listening to a lot of people, by listening to what’s happening now,” RJ says. “Also, by being original. We don’t copy people. We just do what we want. Like RJ FM, (which plays) the greatest and the latest. Nobody thought that would work, but it’s now rating very high, very successful. We combine five decades of music; no other radio station did that. So I guess we listen but we stick to our branding.”

His branding will continue to be a legacy, a presence behind what we hear in the airwaves and behind the instruments we play, that’s for sure. And while we listen to his broadcasts, we can also be certain of one thing: Ramon Jacinto, the RJ of the music industry, is also listening,

Susan Jo: The Pursuit of First Love

YOU walk into the hall of your college building, almost dragging yourself for another three-hour class, another major subject. Another school year has progressed, and you begin to wonder if this one will lead you to a better path, or if it would be more live-saving to go back, take another track and be like the half of the collegiate population forced to choose future-saving courses over a threatening major like Journalism.

You enter the room. Your classmates must have sought the same idea once or twice. Since few are enrolled in this major, it is more likely that the only person that pressed you into this is yourself, maybe because you know you can’t go back, in case you venture another trail.

You notice someone, a woman at the farthest side of the room, dressed in a casual blouse and denims. Who is she, you ask your seatmate.

“You might be wondering what an accountant is doing in a Journalism class,” the woman said when she was asked to introduce herself, and later her story.

She is Susan Jo, 51, taking up a Master’s degree in Communication, with an accounting college degree and a CPA title under her belt.

When she was in grade school, she had a favorite literature teacher, and the mentoring kindled her love for the subject, a passion she will forever hold on to. But times were tough. When she was 14, her father died of cancer, and she had to help sustain her 10 siblings, so she decided to work, first as a private tutor. At 17 years old, she was already employed in an office work. Her work was her financial aid, and even when she was reviewing for the CPA board, she was still working, although it did not interfere with her studies. In fact, she graduated a valedictorian and this helped her get a scholarship at the University of Santo Tomas.

She took up a degree in accounting. “I followed what should be practical with me,” she explains the decision. This took her to more “financially rewarding” jobs, especially when she passed the CPA board exams. Now, she is working as a treasury officer in a major corporation.

But despite a career established in the field of accounting, her love for writing remained. “This curiosity built up inside me,” she says, “what if I had become a journalist, a writer, or a teacher?” She often attended writing seminars, but they just made her yearning for more. “I had this urge of going farther.” And from there, she enrolled a Master’s degree at UST without quitting her work.

“It’s just going back to my first love,” she reiterates. Talking in front of 50 or so students, she adds, “pursue whatever you love, whatever you want in your life, because it is where you find happiness.” And that is what she did, why she’s back in school, even if it means giving equal weight to work, academic and family life, even if it means sacrifices like taking a vacation leave every Monday.

Talking of family, her husband and daughter are among those querying her about her decision. Describing her relationship with them, she says, “It’s really very difficult.” But somehow she manages to give time, with the help of her faith. “Everything was the working of God.”

And while her activities seem endless, turning back is not necessary. “Why should I quit now?” she says. She reclines in her seat, pauses before she could end her testimony. She blinks her eyes, obviously tired, an evidence of the four hours of sleep she gets almost every night. “I pushed myself into this.”

You look at your classmates, all intently listening at her. Like Susan Jo, you also thrust yourself to this direction. After hearing her story, you ponder. Maybe, you say to your mind, this course was worth choosing after all.

This might be a little late, I actually dismissed the idea of writing about this, until I remembered the student seating in front of me one day on a jeepney.

She's wearing an almost-fading brown t-shirt, light blue denims and dark brown closed-toe flats (you know, the popular translucent flats you see on some sidewalk stalls). Beside her is another girl in a private school uniform, perhaps her sister or friend.

Both of them are students. The first girl is, although dressed casually, is sporting a sling bag stuffed with books and other notebooks. Hard to believe at first, but she’s a school girl - a sample product of the new No Uniform Policy implemented on the start of classes.

The No Uniform Policy allows all public school students to attend classes without wearing the school's required uniform. It was DepEd's expansion of the president's early decision to exempt six year olds from wearing uniforms. It is mainly attributed to the decreasing number of grade school enrollees, one reason of which is the incapacity of parents to afford uniforms for their children.

I’m not being a bitch here. Looking at the girl once again, I think it would be better for her to change, back to her old uniform, back to what would make her decent. With her get-up like that, she’s more like going to Divisoria than to the campus, seriously. Fashionwise, the students cannot handle the new policy. And who knows what her classmates are wearing, by the way.

Are we so like becoming America, like the high school kids we see in movies? Anyway, having the students wear civilian clothes, especially that a new dress code will come up, can also breed discrimination soon, maybe fights that will deliberately start with just the fashion statement that could, or rather did, define the social status. Student A teases his classmates for his loose t-shirt, ripped jeans and tattered sneakers, picks on him and tells everyone how impoverished-looking Student B is. I know, I know, it’s a worst case situation, maybe some scene in a teeny bopper Western movie, but hey, that could happen.

And there’s the problem on wardrobe collections, something like checking out what’s new on your cabinet everyday. I remember the days when I’m off for another gimmick; I’d change my get-up a dozen times (resulting to a ravaged closet). If this happens occasionally, then how much more are those kids that go to school everyday? Don’t tell me that kids today still wear the first thing they pull out of their cabinet, and don’t tell me that teenagers don’t smell fashion trends.

Compare it with having a set of uniform that you can wear painlessly for six days. Having the same look everyday is the same as going to school hassle-free, practically speaking. The last things you can worry about are the accessories that could go with your plain skirt. Before I went to college, I hated the idea of wearing a uniform, but later I realized its advantage: its saving my clothes for better purposes.

The government’s reasons for setting this policy may be sensible and logical. Some parents can’t really afford to wear five sets of uniforms for their children, and so it is helpful. But then, there are detrimental effects needed to be realized, to sum it all in a few words: The No uniform policy can further degrade the status of public school students, much more the marginalized ratio in the society.

I think the real problem lies in the manufacturing of uniforms. I’m not an expert on this, but if parents have problems buying uniforms, then maybe the price is too high for them, exceeding their budget (I remember how we spent almost two thousand for four white blouses this semester, it is financially devastating). If only uniform manufacturers could cut down their prices, for the sake of clothing children with decent garb.

Let’s see after ten months. DepEd once responded to the new issue, saying, “try the No Uniform policy first before complaining.” Okay, we’ll try it, let’s just hope the kids won’t end in a runway.

The Heart of Punk Rock

I was walking in front of our building the other day when I saw someone familiar. He was a dark, slightly tall guy sporting a one-sided hairstyle that screams defiantly “emo” to everyone. I thought he’s my irregular loner classmate last semester for our Natural Science class, but even before I stepped up next to him, I realized he wasn’t my classmate, and I didn’t know him at all. He was simply a cloned fashion statement of my “emo” classmate, and a copycat of probably a hundred of “rockers” strutting in the same hair style.

I remembered when I was in third year high school. I met a bunch of old-school punk guys at a tattoo shop at a mall near us. They would just lounge around the place, indulging in hard liquor drinks while Anti-Flag and The Ramones play in the background.

It wasn’t the “rockers” season yet at that time. There was no Fallout Boy; no Click Five live at MTV, and no Dashboard Confessional giving the suicidal tendencies lyrics. The bands blasting from everyone else’s MP3s before are not yet in the mainstream. They are still a part of the underground scene, away from the world they think would just criticize them.

Moreover, the punk fashion is a one big daring statement communicating their liberal and bold beliefs. While Mohawk hairstyles and black leather boots paired with ragged jeans are deemed to be the weirdest get-up during that time, the punks would bravely walk around, knowing that their fashion conveys the idealism inside them. It was simply their “form of expression,” and not just a reason to show off their individualistic side.

And that world became my greatest influence. While my quest for real and sensible songs started from simply eliminating mainstream pop bands from my playlist, the world of punk rock introduced me to a genre that conveyed true angst against twisted beliefs, insanity, and the injustices in the society and the government.

This entry to the underground scene also changed my wardrobe. From a no-themed outfit, it turned to a more standout get-up: black tops (and eyelids),Chuck Taylor boots and fitted pants. Although some think that I am becoming like one of the guys, I still feel special. Girls joining such kind of crowd that time are very unusual, but for me it wasn’t a big deal, and to stand beside those kind of people reveals the real punk-rock in me.
_________

And to the “emo” guy I came across with the other day,

I know that you will, too.

_________

But the big threat came when I came across a punk-looking girl one day. She was wearing skintight black pants and high-cut chucks just like I used to do. Maybe I was jealous because I feel I’m starting to be not the only one. No, I just hated the sight. When I noticed that more and more girls at the mall started to be influenced by the same theme, it was obvious that it will evolve to be the reigning fashion trend for the next months.

What was the cause? I realized it was because of the underground-turned-mainstream punk bands, the highlight of which was when My Chemical Romance and their single “Helena” gained its popularity among teens that interpreted the music as super emotional and super angsty. Thus, the long-conceived “emo punks” started to circulate among the music scene, invading teenagers’ mind and telling them that “this is the real music.”

Which is not. From there, the term “poseur” also became the most insulting word to the... well, poseurs. It is also this time that I wrote my first ever i-love-it essay, an article that talks about my anger towards pretentious people, especially to the rock-“fashionistas” who just goes with the flow.

But it won’t change anything. Trend is uncontrollable; it spreads to all corners like fire. We can’t do anything but to let the “rockers” wear the blackest top they could wear and the flash the rattiest Chucks they could flash. Together with the one-sided, pointed bangs, everyone seemed to perfect the wardrobe set called “emo.”

Years have passed, and the trend did not fade. It was even made available to everyone – girls or guys. Whenever I walk around my school grounds, I count the people who have bangs over a part of their forehead. Turns out, almost every girl has them.

I’m not one of them, however. I stopped cropping my hair short at the sides, and I dress in the punk get-up only occasionally.

Now I understand why some of my hardcore friends are just wearing plain t-shirts and jeans. Maybe they’re just trying to avoid being labeled as poseurs, or maybe they just don’t want to express it altogether. However, I also realized that no matter how simple or weird your get-up is, it is your beliefs and thinking which really matters. There are other forms to express it loud and proud anyway, like through music.

Maybe I can’t do anything but to just laugh at the numerous people dressing up under the same theme nowadays. I know they’ll eventually grow tired of it altogether. And to the “emo” guy I came across with the other day, I know that you will, too.

Four years have passed since I met the punks and hardcores at the tattoo shop. The tattoo shop is still a tattoo and punk-rock shop, only relocated to a more business-conducive place. The punks don’t hang out there anymore, they’ve probably went to their own punk-rock ways just like me. But I know that whatever crowd and whatever style we are into these days, we are still united under one genre, one system of beliefs and one heart: the heart of punk rock.

GADGET DILLEMAS

Here's the best way to end your gadget temporarily: Kill the batteries.

While our dslar camera became the most precious gadget during our event coverage yesterday, it also proved to be a worthless after all. That is, when the screen finally flashed "Battery Empty" right before our eyes.

It's inevitable and acceptable, but not on instances when you HAVE to take pictures, like during an awarding ceremony when you basically have to take the pictures of every winner, or else you'll be dead. Unfortunately, that became our fate yesterday during the Athena Cup (it's a quiz bee) Finals. While we were happily taking snapshots of people and things, our cam died EXACTLY BEFORE THE WINNERS WERE AWARDED.

I wanted to walk out right then and there. After all, our business is also done once our gadget is done with its functions. But I can't go out that easily; the organizers will be surprised why I am not present on the most important segment of the event. It doesn't make any difference either. I know they were wondering why I am just seated on the front seat while the quiz bee champions are awarded, while the other photographers are clicking their cams away. For a moment I felt that as a journalist, I am not worthy to stay at the event anymore, especially when I saw a photographer from The Varsitarian busily but calmly snapping her dslr in front of the giddy crowd.

At first I actually pretended to take pictures, but I had the feeling of self-awkwardness because I myself know that the cam is dead so I decided to stop that pretentious act and just sit down while my partner stared at the happy faces in front of us. I can't do anything, the best the thing I can do for that matter is write down details, which I did after a few minutes of frustration.

Luckily, we still had a source for the pictures, and it's not from the Varsitarian staff. There was a guy who was just documenting the pictures for himself, and so we just took the advantage (while swallowing our pride) by asking him if we could grab the photos. Thank God he agreed. Anyway, as journalists who could get caught at unexpected circumstances anytime, we have to have the skill of innovating our sources, no matter what the cost.

When my partner reiterated how unfortunate things have turned out for us, all I said is, "Okay lang 'yun." After all, we can't do anything about it. Gadgets are not human beings that could have unlimited powers. Their batteries run out and when all their stored energy is gone, well, they're over. You can't do anything about it except buying a new one or charging it.

And since I had these realizations ever since, I think I'll be a veteran of this battery-dying circumstances. I have to accept it, and that's why I don't grumble a lot anymore whenever my MP3 player spells out "Low Power" on its screen.

And for that matter, I often wished that all of my gadgets could be de-saksak operated, so I could still use it at home and just utilize the batteries on the outdoors.

But if I do that I think I'll be defeating the gadget's definition and purpose.

_______

Up to this minute, I still have a Last Face Syndrome of my interviewee. But before anything else, I decided not to disclose his name because he might land on my blog (which I wish) anytime. So let's just call him the ..Ratty Sneakers. That name came up because he was, well, simply wearing those ratty chucks-like sneakers together with his white long-sleeved polo made of Katsa. But then, as I've told Prinz earlier, his handsomeness encompasses everything. So never mind the ratty sneakers and the farmer-like outfit concealing his wealthy lineage and Atenenean degree.

My major mistake was, I didn't bring any cam. But it's okay, because he might get distracted and he might lose focus on the interview, and I am the interviewer. So that's why I tried to put all the visible details in my head. Besides, I still have the voice recordings, although I can’t see him there.

Enough of the fantasies. Wake up dreamy head, the interview is over.

However, I did take note of some lessons, and not just observations of how hot he is. Learning his background and contributions to their annual event, I realized that the elite aren’t just for the white collar or the corporate jobs. They can also do other jobs, even muscle straining ones like carrying large rocks and picking up the thrash, as he shared. And that’s what usually pays off. Also, it is important to finish your degree, get a highly-respected job or start your own business. Although going to that point doesn’t mean complete self-satisfaction, earning the privilege and prestige is just one big achievement.

And of course, that means richness.

Well, he’s got it aside from everything else: the good looks, the respected background, the niceness and the right attitude towards work – the things most of us wants to achieve. He didn’t get that all in one grasp, however. He earned it through hard work, a good perspective of life, and from my own analysis, a little sacrifice as well.
We still have more years to be or to be greater than that.
___________

Counting from the time I am writing this, there will only be 14 hours left before sounds and lights starts crackling up in the sky and around the world, signaling that a new year has begun.
Then it is time to chomp down on our media noche before going out again to our own street parties, drinking bouts until dawn and aftermath fireworks-playing. Or at least that was my idea of what might happen later later on.
Last night, I've been thinking. I have three choices. We could watch the fireworks from my cousin's rooftop and play luses there before going down to our house to eat. OR my friend Eden and I could play with sparkles down the street and go back to our house to feast for a few minutes. Then I could go to my neighbor's street party-slash-gig. OR we could just go to the Mall of Asia and be a Kapuso for a night with the crowd. Afterwards we could eat anywhere we can or probably walk at.. Baywalk? Nah, Baywalk is not kewl anymore.
But whatever happens, all I know is I won't spend the first few minutes of 2008 over the net, or at my room. Who would choose to be a bummer at that time of the year?
Why do I end my year with these problems? Oh, there's another one: i don't know what kind of fireworks to play with later. I want to divert from the usual luses-kwitis routine. I want to try something kewl, like sinturon ni hudas, sawa or even a swirling multi-colored fountain.
or i could just stick with the you-look-like-a-big-matchstick firecrackers: sparkles :P
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I know I bought the newspaper this morning for a reason. But even if I still can't figure that out, I know two reasons: First, it is part of the journ routine to be updated. Next, it is the last day of the year 2007 I had the feeling that there is some special news or something. And the something special was: a year end report on how 2007 has been a "year of creeping terror."
Thinking of the big events that happened this year, it seems that everything just happened, even if it was months ago. Well, it feels like it because of its effects. Like the Glorietta explosion last October 19 and the Batasan bombing last November 13. Although everything is trying to move on, there is still a hidden fear lurking somewhere - the fear of terror, the fear of fear itself.
But then we should always remember that there will be a day where we have to leave all the anxieties, fear, traumas and bad feelings we had. That day tells us that inspite of the unwanted incidents that occured, life goes on and there will always be a chance to make everything right. That day does not only signal the beginning of new hopes, but it is a reminder that everyone must hold on to their hopes at all times, no matter what day or time it is. That day is, of course, what we are going to celebrate at the strike of 12 midight later on: Happy NeW YeaR!!!