THE [not so] INNOCENT AGE

The leader of the band is not yet tired but his eyes are growing old 

[onset of glaucoma]

Blood is absent in the band's instruments but beer is in their souls

[whiskey and brandy too]

My life is not a poor attempt, I imitate no one

[going Joaquinesque maybe?]

I am my own legacy of being the leader of  bands

(PM, PGLI, PDGL, PJGL)

That Saturday morning, only one suspension was gaveled and it's not Dan Fogelberg whose omnibus nomination was duly seconded and elected through a single vote cast as paper money into a poor box to effectively suspend a self-imposed rule on moderation.

That week, Bozo and Coco were reincarnated as pancakes and sausages to commemorate the Phantom Biker's capture of the year's last edition of "The Quarterlies" before he got stapled by Ronald McDonald's absence in Munoz...

 ...all in the name of four combo-meals-with-beer options: adobong guya and ensaladang pako, lumpiang shanghai and kalderetang baka, Christmas dinakdakan and adobong bibe, and sinampalukang ulo ng kambing and chicken nuggets. 

Definitely not for the innocents.

And just like that, a session with the Applanation Tonometer at a polyclinic got the Manila Meeting and Field Visit signed off with a date stamped upon a Regional Convening on the day the 5th amendment to an agreeent was initiated. 

Viva Engage tripped over Tuesday's trash.

A partnership pltaform was updated and a regional operations plan budgetted.

Cigna acknowledged, emails too, and a catch up.

One final look at the details then a submission before power went down...

THE BLUE COMPASS (Almost an Epylion)

For the guardians of the Quad DisCon presentation to be allowed to cross Canili Dam from Castaneda into Maria Aurora, the Phantom Biker must first chase the Four Cardinal Directions as it metamorphosed from dawn in Casulucan into the  rising sun in Sto. Tomas --- a biker's epic about the eternal duel between the days in Buasao and evenings in Pandalla that stretched into 4 days in the trails of the Southwest Monsoon.  

Thus was how the mystery of the missing counterpart request was fnally unravelled as a policy toolkit on how to clean inboxes and catch up on unopened emails despite the continuing enigma of a project change request.

Yet, Kuala Lumpur as usual lagged behind behind Phnom Penh, Manila and Jakarta, outclassed even by Melbourne that recently fell from the sky and Brussels too whose settlement remains uncertain.

That's what the feather-pen inscribed in a timesheet as the Quad DisCon was called to order in Baler so those men wearing aprons can line up for Chef Gerry Yan's buffet lunch while their guardians explored Ermita Hill and the rock formations in Daguisit.

Then there were the Garage Nights in Bakal 2 to celebrate an enrollment and liberation from a massive credit debt that would have covered utilities, credit card and phone bills, and insurance premium even without an HMO settlement. 

An anticipated tryst turned out to be an optical coherence tomography, perimetry, and a full abdomen and prostate sonography. 

That was before a middle-old old kalderetang kambing was infused with non-alcoholic sweet wine to season a middle-aged adobong manok and 4 bottles of near beer. 

SIRI

Program Manager (rubbing his iPhone 16 like Aladdin's Lamp): Ensure that contract amendments and budget disbursements are made on time.

Siri: Do you mean fast-tracking the Umbrella OPA review and briefing implementing partners on the timely submission of their final reports with zero unspents?

Program Manager (staring and almost praying at a ThinkPad screen): And disburse the last two payments for Year 3 but not in the same effort exerted in editing PRISMA 1-4.

Siri: Do you mean as discussed in the Monday meetings and a Learning Booster on climate finance, or the conversations on social protection and a report from Brussels?

In Scandinavia, virtual assistants interpret speech and recognize tense voices from Melbourne that extol Susan Alice Bennet in words that can only be heard from Paradise where the families of Chanidae (kinilaw na bangus) and Bovidae (sinampalukang kambing) starred in a play about Karaoke Nights in Baloc.

oo0oo 

Program Manager (unchained and adjusting a bike seat): Five days of the monuments, these are what the sirens screamed for and not the the credit card payments for three servings of Gotong Batangas that the Phantom Biker sliced from a soft morning rain.

Siri: Do you mean plain strong lager or paired with mushy tokwa't baboy and infused litsong manok from the ancient tamarind tree of the Big House ? 

By end of Saturday, the Defender of the People secured a Beautiful Victory and was raised to the sublime degree of sinaing na tulingan and pinakbet, Spanish ham and cheese, and a friendship that convenes over breaking bottles of Argentinian wine and Irish whiskey... 

LEGENDS OF THE FALL (Bakal 2 Edition)

After The Fall, I paid my annual dues, I gave my thanks, I expressed my loathing to those who wronged me, and drank whiskey and beer.

The 5th generation of Fr. Juan Severino Mallari now drives an XLT in Nueva Ecija while Lucas Alarcon is actually a caregiver in London but not in Italy and France were Romain Bardet, Richard Carapaz, Biniam Girmay, Kevin Vauquelin and Mark Cavendish made history as I segued into my para-PM role to finalize the National Dialogue in Vang Vieng and escalate preparations for the Regional Convening in Phnom Penh.

Before The Fall, I scored 3 lotto 4-digit wins, invested another P160,000 in MP2, paid the bills except SSS premiums, and followed-through my missing remittance.

A flourescein angiography report led to an optical coherence tomography imaging of the left eye's optic nerve because of a worrisome malignancy that was somehow assuaged by Bulan's reassuring interpretation of CA125, CEA and LDH test results to prelude and conclude The Fall of Thursday afternoon perhaps because I traded a slam party in San Fernando for a birthday dinner in Maligaya.

. 

At the hospital, I paid for a cranial CT scan and a wrist and shoulder x-ray, bought medical supplies then had a bottle of cold Red Horse to calm the nerves.

I finally have a Hard Rock Cafe shirt from London, traded Thursday night with Friday's fried liempo and Sunday's pritong bangus to conclude a hard week and four short stages of the Tour de Don Francisco Munoz of Sitio Papaya with a prayer that the coming week will be kind, that Bulan would work from home or find another job near Bakal 2 so we can build his house, that Balong would reconsider his "I choose to remain single" dogma and find himself a worthy partner...     

THE UNEMPLOYED 4: A Delegate to ANCOM 2024

10 am on Friday the 26th of April was the clock

10 aprons and jewels went up the tarp

10 relieved gentleman in a satisfying jaunt

10 stubs for one final Chinese lauriat

he was the Maj. Harold M. Clark who crashed

she is Camille X who flashed her blinkers

her niece Diane was the willing replacement 

she's at Number 2 after the CDO appointment

red cleavages, cigarettes and lighters

tight white butts and nicotine pouches

nubile umbrella girl, bosomy masseuse 

chivalrous sexism, chauvinist merchants

an Ironman in the MOU for a workshop

chicken grilled twice, one more dollar account

Phantom riding for a water bill and a haircut

21 beer bottles when you're single at 21

THE WISDOM OF A SECOND SUBMISSION

In the East hangs "G", the wisdom behind the first Saturday meetings that led to Morocco's proclamation of its 3rd installation rites in San Nicolas a month after the 17th of such ceremony was held for the opening of Maria Montessori's first school in Baloc.

Those were my two submissions to 8 episodes on the reception of dignitaries, a farce show of pomp and ceremony for those who pretend to be very reverent like Benedict XVI's resigned crossed keys that unlocked a second submission on St. Hilary's feast day. 

Preceding these are the stories from Kathmandu that were narrated as a delayed flight booking in Phnom Penh and the complexity of reserving rooms at Mercure Sabang in Jakarta, the chase for a travel insurance in Manila while closing a BDO Visa card, a derby of kalderetang bibe with beef pares over off-loaded Boy Bawang packs and a possible post-March consultancy arrangement, and the month's Masonic Education about the proposed retreat in Rayong.  

There were no meetings on Friday as "Oplan Walang Hanggang Pangalan" was initiated by the wizards of Hogwarts in a dismantled train track to celebrate birthdays and got drunk on purloined whiskey, coagulating kinilaw na bangus, fibrous lumpiang shanghai and slushy tiim na manok.

And soon, the eco-farm will rise in Korokan that will be linked by an electric jeepney to the upscale commecial complex in Bakal 3 which will be fronted by a real estate development company that will build cute sustainable houses for those who were liberated from the jaws of death.

At least that is the Phantom Biker's daydream... 

INTO THE LAST 3 MONTHS

3 months minus 6

8 installation rites through 91 days
a milestone unveiled in Baloc

3 months minus 1

chicken croquetas hatched for Gregory

leftover beer blended with vintage whiskey

3 months minus 5

 

53 full seats on the bus to Cubao

a hot MILF in a Red Horse bottle

3 months minus 7

the thief came in broad daylight

for a friend, a foe, and someone I know

3 months to D Day

April when she comes

is Paul chasing Simon's unwashed bike  

TO BALER AND BACK IN 8 HOURS

113 kilometers to Baler and a lomi overload

4 apprentices and a master, tipsy changekeeper, confused teller and the missing payee, Thursday Group expelled from the ASEAN civic space

they all signed the OPA in Castaneda

113 kilometers from Baler and a clubhouse sandwich

Siem Reap assured in December, to Luang Prabang by January, Kathmandu possibly on February, Ortigas cancelled for the shamans of San Jose

3 days in the trails led to Reserva

JOHOR BAHRU

The mural along Jalan Tan Hiok Nee is alive.

It performed a dragon dance a little over an hour after clearing 41.4 kilometers from Changi Airport to the Johor Bahru Checkpoint, a rain-induced Malay buffet dinner at Lepak Corner and real sleep in a real bed at Amari Hotel, and claiming my badge and goodie bag at Pesada Johor Internasional.   

It doesn't matter that the bus driver's zipper is open throughout the trip, that the immigration officer at CIQ never heard of APCW 2023, or I was served hot teh tarik instead of the cold one I ordered because the Straits of Johor may sound big but it is actually narrower than the 1.056-kilometer Johor-Singapore Causeway. 

In Johor Bahru, the rains fall at 2 pm and stops after an hour so by 4 pm, I changed into Indiana Jones to explore the Old JB Town Heritage Food Trail where I had a late big lunch of Restoran IT Roo's (circa 1960s) famous Hainanese chicken chop, so huge that I left some on the plate to offer to the memory of the wealthy Indian family who built The Red House and to the gods of the Johor Ancient Chinese Temple whose main gate is the subject of a young street photographer.

That was on Monday and a pint of Guinness stout at McGregor's while the RWI fellows opted for small glasses of weak Tiger Beer after a futile search for Jalan Wong Ah Fock's recommended must eats, that same day I confused with Tuesday and the side event I excellently moderated I was told, perhaps the result of a more palatable boxed free lunch despite a 15-minute technical glitch.

Yes, Tueday was the big day but Sang Heng (circa 1950s) remained closed, maybe forever, and I don't really like banana cake so I left Hiap Joo Bakery (circa 1919) for a pack of kaya buns at Salahuddin Bakery (circa 1937) before a late afternoon breakfast of kaya toasts, soft boiled egg and hot tea at Restoran Hua Mui (1946) that should have been the sop kambing I craved for because dinner, although free, is a disappointing bowl of fish that someone choose for me because I asked him to. 

On Wednesday, Grab took took me to JB Sentral to be swallowed by the throng making its way to Singapore, an hour too early but late enough for the CIQ immigration officer who fell asleep while stamping my passport that was held up at the Woodlands Checkpoint because my approved electronic arrival application to Singapore is for single entry only, something that the talkative coach driver did not tell until our arrival at Changi's Terminal 1.

But "life is a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get" (Mama Gump).

I got an early check in from Jewel 5 hours into my flight back to Manila which means 5 hours of enjoying the hospitality of SATS Premiere Lounge's bar and kitchen, had an entire row for myself at PR 508,  and was delivered at Hop Inn-Morato from NAIA Terminal in no time despite the rush hour traffic. 

Johor Bahru was almost dry and halal so a young Barbie Doll dedicated a Johnny Walker Black for us in Bongabon while an older and familiar version of her piled heaps of lechong baboy over a case of San Miguel Premium All-Malt after 8 hours on stage at the Palayan City convention... 

3 NIGHTS AND A DAY AT JL. SABANG

Kemang nights 

crowded streets, shitty hotels, Lotte Mart and Hooters long gone 

Menteng days

palatial houses, treelined roads, Novotel Cikini and a bike lane

But Jalan Sabang has been claimed by the Defender of the Truth.

A briefing

2.4 kilometers of afternoon prayers

goat satay, mutton soup, cold Bintang

Googled and misled to Sate Pak Heri

second best on the first night

A meeting

2.9 kilometers into a narrow alley
Nasi Goreng Kebon Sirih in a paper box

burning goat meat and cold beer for dessert

second night but still second best

The Secretariat

beef grilled in fried red chilli pepper

Blue Bird pelted with meatball rendang

nasi padang, burnt eggs, singed chicken skin
Grab motorbikes running on cold beer 

Hari Raya Pankasila 

blue berets and a blue bike at Monas

Sarinah's mural and photo bombers

meat skewered at Sate Lamongan Jaya Agung

the best there is on my last day

Subalit mas malinamnam pa rin ang pinispisang kambing noong Sabado at ang adobong salugabang n'ung Linggo bagamat  bahagyang matabang ang lasa dahil sa hindi inaasahang pagpanaw.

Kahapon ay naubos sa Pamasahe ang upa sa Serbis and Selina's Gold tasted like naked melons...