Flooding, photographs and negatives

We had inclement weather this week. Two days ago, I got home from work on the night shift to find floodwater inside our house. After the rains had stopped enough for the floodwater to go subside, we started to "drain" (no, really, I truly believe THAT is the best word to describe it) our house.

And I thought that was that.

Today, I got home and my wife reminded me that the flood waters might have reached the lowest cabinet of our book shelf, where we kept our photo albums and negatives. And sure enough, the flooding did reach the photos. One album actually, the very bottom of the stack. Good thing these were stacked. The photos are now drying out.

Of greater interest though are the negatives. That is more than 15 years worth of negatives. And about a third of them got wet in varying degrees. These are also in the process of being dried and aired out.

Unlike watching paint dry which is a boring exercise, watching the pictures dry allows me to look at them again, in a very different light. Some of them are humorous, and I can't help but smile at the memory of these photos. To see your kids standing beside or lounging infront of the television set is totally different from seeing their pictures as you were carrying them as babies.

The negatives, on the other hand are altogether different. It is painful on a different plane of understanding to know that some of these negatives might be damaged, even as you are waiting for them to dry. These negatives were supposed to be the "backup" copies. A case of the original material serving as backup to the print copies.

Oh well, that is life.

--andoy
"live moves..."

On weddings and marriages

My friend Geoffrey got married to Myan last Friday.  As I mentioned before there were several surprises for me almost from the time the wedding ceremony started up to the reception.  This was their second wedding.  The first being a civil ceremony several months back.

On our table, discussion turned a bend towards marriage.  Among our group of five from the office, there were only two of us who are married.  And the other one has already filed for divorce and is working on finalizing said divorce within the year.  The casual chat was on the topic of the wedding.  What happened during her wedding and so on.  Seems to me that she enjoyed her wedding and to a certain extent still enjoyed the company (and friendship) of her husband.  There was no trace of acrimony toward the husband.  Just as matter of factly, he was not discussed.

At some point I gave the advice that if ever she got married again (which I think is the point of the divorce) she should follow this simple advice:  it is always the man's fault, and he should admit that fact early on.  Not just admit, mind, but to stand by that logic.  It is always the man's fault when something goes wrong.  As a married man, I have lived by that rule, and stood by it come hell or high water.  The advantage of such a stand?  My wife has never nagged me.  And why would she?  When we both know it's my fault anyway.

The second advice, equally important, is that the wife must understand the husband.  Complete understanding, no more and no less.  I am blessed that my wife, Lilia, understands me and has gone out of her way to prove it.

I did not however, give the last and most important advice:  get mad one at a time.  No use losing your head both at the same time.  This piece of advice, I must admit, has been broken in my household a few times.  In sixteen years of marriage, we've not followed this advice about four or five times.

Related to the above, we have also had disagreements, but always I during any such disagreements, I held her hand or her shoulder.

Sixteen years of marriage, through thick and thin.  Fun isn't it.

--andoy

Something to be said about older women

I married an older woman.  The marriage started sixteen years ago.  And we are still married together, living together and raising our two kids.  There is something to be said about older women.

Older women in this sense is a personal viewpoint.  When I was growing up, the girls were pretty.  But the women were beautiful.  Up until college, there were a lot of pretty girls my age.  I can relate to them, but I knew them personally, and some of them were just too "flighty" for me.  Maybe I just could not relate to them.  Maybe they were looking for a Mr. Right which did not in any way look like me or any image of myself I can imagine.  Or maybe I just wasn't looking for a girl.  I was trying to find a woman.

Well I did find her.  Married her, and still with her.  And for the life of me, most of the time, I could not understand girls or younger women.  Younger than me, that is.

Some women think that they would like to experience having a younger man.  They think they would like to, but they just could not push themselves to do so.  I couldn't understand the reticence.  There is the thought that they would enjoy themselves and the man might not.  That sounds like a joke.  There are men out there who enjoy the company of women, older or younger doesn't really matter, I guess.

--andoy

Denim Bags

My daughter DArwi had a school project last year. It was to sew a bag out of plastic tetra-packs. It was okay and run of the mill. Teaches kids the value of recycling.

This year, after the teacher noticed that the kids never used their tetra-pack bags, she decided that the school project would be a denim bag, made from an old (discarded) pair of denim jeans. (Funny, but isn't that the type of pair of denim jeans you wouldn't want to throw away?)

She created the denim bag on her own. Cheating somewhat in the design and implementation portion of the project as she just cut off the legs, sewed them shut, and then added a zipper at the waist. It was almost finished when she showed it to me, lacking only the zipper and a handle. And then I showed her several denim bags I created and used several years ago, including one which was a full-sized knap-sack. That was cool. It even had a drawstring top and cover instead of a zipper.

I just hope she enjoys using the bag she made as much as I enjoyed using the bags I made. Twenty-year old bags and still being used. Ha!

--andoy

Old Friends at weddings

I went to a friend's wedding last Friday and I got a nice surprise. Several, in fact. Though the heavy vehicular traffic was quite uncommon I still was able to arrive in time for the bride's march down the aisle. Maybe the traffic was not uncommon really, as I have not been out on a Friday afternoon for I don't know how long.

That I got in time was mainly because I thought the wedding would start at 3:00pm. I got to the church at 4:00pm. The church was fairly empty as it was mostly close friends and relatives, and some officemates of the bride and groom.

A real surprise happened when one of the bride's officemates -- her boss actually -- approached me and introduced herself as Pam, a dorm mate from UPLB. After almost 20 years, she still recognized me, if only because I haven't added too much poundage. I on the other hand had to scramble to remember who she was. She introduced herself, we had a small chat just to touch base and she had to return to her seat.

After quite a while trying to remember faces and names from the Men's Dorm residents, I was able to put name to face. She was a gangling girl back then, somewhat gawky and tall compared with the general female population of the Los Banos. But what I remembered was that she was enrolled in a block which was handled by a close friend of mine, Monina Tayag. Pam also mentioned that she took up engineering during college, and that would make her an org-mate of my former roommate Dan, as well as a slew of other close friends.

During the wedding there were several photographers who did not look like the regular wedding photographers. Turned out that the guys who took the wedding pictures were upper echelon professional photographers. Two of them were carrying high-end Canon EOS cameras. I was not able to get the camera make of the other photographer. Only later during the latter part of the reception did I notice that these both had preview LCDs at the back of the camera! They were digital EOS cameras. Great! The other camera? It was a film-based camera, of that I was sure as the photographer had to reload film during the wedding.

I had to go to work after the wedding, and went straight to the office. I took a short nap at the desk as I was afraid that if I went to the sleeping quarters, I won't be able to wake up on time for my shift.

That was a fun day. Practically took less than 2 hours of sleep from 10:30 Thursday evening until 11:00 Saturday morning. Woke up around 10:00pm Saturday and prepared to go to work. Great! That Saturday did go fast!

--andoy

Orchid Pictures

I took some pictures of orchids last week. These particular orchids are from our garden.

orchids 


A little backgrounder is needed to explain these flowers. We rent a house, and since we moved in, there have been no major change to the garden. With minor changes, we have continued to do the gardening with the plants which were planted by the owners. Including the orchids. Not too many of them, but since these were grafted into the trees, there's not much use of transporting them when they left. These particular plants must have been several years old even before we moved here.

and more orchids 


No real reason to take photos of these flowers, as they last more than a week. We don't pick them but just let them be on the vine, until the flowers wilt. Though they do make good models for pictures and makes the pictures look good without any effort on the part of the photographer.

--andoy
2004.August.11

heart attack... part 2

While receiving calls last night, the inevitable happened, a caller asked for a Spanish Agent. Of course, I had to answer that he can call back during weekdays, from 9:00 am to 3pm (U.S.) Pacific Time. I didn't need to tell the caller that the agent (Rino) is in the I.C.U. of the Heart Center and that he would most probably be there for the better part of the week.

In the meantime, what's on everyone's mind is if Cielo can receive Spanish calls. And that includes Cielo. Not to detract from her abilities, but in my opinion, I'd rather that we wait for Rino. Several reasons, including the added pressure of inadequate preparation in Spanish for Cielo. Sure, she can handle a Spanish call, given time and adequate preparation. In fact, it would be good for her. However, the pressure of giving a solution in passable technical spanish is something else altogether. What comes to mind is a vision of someone who knows Nihonggo, but not Technical Nihonggo. Not everyone who knows plain everyday English, can communicate in Technical English, for that matter. Those are two different languages. Even Rino admitted that technical terms for Madrid/Iberian Spanish is different from those for Latin American/Mexican Spanish.

That's my opinion on the matter. Anyway, if push comes to shove, we'll see what happens. We can always do a "test to destruction." But will it be fair to the one being tested? I think not.

--andoy

of heart attacks

Of Heart Attacks.

A friend of mine, Rino, just had a heart attack. It was not out of the blue. There were warning signs, just that these did not seem like real warnings. While on work several days ago, his blood pressure shot up to 180/100. He had to stop his work, while he was resting and for the blood preseeure to normalize. The next day he went to have a check up and was given an ECG exam. According to the results he was okay and off he went to work. After work, he went home, slept and 3 hours after that had a heart attack. According to him, he was brought to the nearest hospital, was given medication and then was transferred to another hospital. He thought it was just 30 minutes from the time he arrived at the Emergency Room to the time he was transferred, turns out he stayed in the first hospital more than 3 hours. Less than a day later, he was transferred to Heart Center. In all that time he was in the Intensive Care Unit of those three hospitals.

I visited him this morning after work, and he mentioned that after a day of staying in hospitals, he was bored. He joked that to keep from being bored he was playing around with what was in the room. He was playing with the heart rate monitor, trying to see if he can keep it low (his
record was 54 bpm).

He's going to have further tests come Monday, at which time his condition would have stabilized. And maybe an angioplasty to decongest whatever blockage they find.

Yesterday, when my friend Bravo informed me that Rino was rushed to the hospital, he sounded distraught as he was giving me whatever minimal information he knew. Turns out that was an understatement. Seems he was crying over the news that Rino had a heart attack.

People respond differently to stress. And I gave a hint that Rino might be in the wrong job (for health reasons.) He retorted that at least in our account, there was less stress compared to his old account. I joked that another account might need trainors, and he said that he'd rather stay with our account.

--andoy

"Roses Are Black"

[Note: Almost twenty years ago I wrote a poem I called "Roses Are Black." Every so often, I remember those times and remember the poem. It doesn't mean anything, really, but it gives the feeling of those times.]




Roses Are Black

I.

Roses are black
as the enigma fades

a shrill caterwaul
empty shadow of echoes
and the cot does not answer

The air drops down
in its own weight

Roses are black
blood drying
remnants of rain

II.

Roses are black
tears
scarlet

The howling madness
has receded to gloom

Rent clothes

Tattered self
remain

Roses are black
Passage fair is silence

III.

Roses are black
candles are suns

a smile
a squeeze

These are everything

Nature sings
a heart's song

Roses are black
glowing nights
are solemn pacts

IV.

Roses are black
footsteps have a name

Somebody
someone

Skyful of prayers
a pond of grief
for somebody

Roses are black
a note is a melody
for more than somebody

V.

Roses are black
gazes are eyes

Waves break
clouds fly
and firetrees bloom in May

Sleeps are cold
dreamless

Roses are black
There is nothing there
and no one here

--andoy/July 3, 1985