To absent friends

Last night was a welcome treat on the heels of the Christmas season. I had a chance to meet up with my high school friends and their spouses (at least those who brought them along). It was a very refreshing change of pace to be with people I grew up with and with whom I had shared a lot of triumphs and failures. Halfway through our dinner, it just occured to us that all present at the table were cadet officers from the same class back in high school. That and the fact that all of us at one time or another rolled dice on a table and spent time slaughtering hordes of imaginary orcs as well as each other in equally imaginary battles.

It was good to see that everyone was getting somewhere in life. I guess this is the entire purpose of life anyway eh?

I could not help but note the absence of some of our companions, particularly those who had set off for foreign shores to make their fortune. I am glad to note that these companions of ours are doing very well and prosepring. Somehow, something tells me that one day, not too far off in the future, I may be joining the ranks of our absent companions as well. Perhaps those left behind here will be drinking a toast to us absent friends when the time comes.

Christmas Eve

It is finally Christmas Eve. All around us, the City is finally coming to a much awaited slowdown. I could hardly believe it when I drove out today and encountered almost nothing on the streets. At a time like this, a few scant hours away from Christmas day, I can't help but reflect on the year thus far. 2005 has been a year of challenges. I'd be lying through my teeth if I said it was a bed of roses.

We entered 2005 with trepidation on growing old childless and we're leaving it with our baby. That's a definite plus.

I entered 2005 with a trace of starry-eyed idealism concerning the honorable nature of our clients' ability (and willingness) to pay our bills . I am leaving it with a jaded sense of guarded realism, believeing now that any client's credit rating and claim to honor and fair play is ultimately borne out by the attorney's fees he promised to pay.

I entered 2005 afraid of the future, of failure, of most of everything that does not go according to plan. I am leaving it with a sense of fatalism with the realization that ultimately, it is not really up to me but a higher agency who controls all of us.

I started 2005 with two airsoft guns, a Tokyo Marui SR 17 and a heavily modified G3 and I'm leaving it with only one. I decide to keep my G3.

I began 2005 away from my Fenris brethren and I am ending it with my return (at least in part) to the wolfpack.

I started 2005 expecting to deplete my bank account and I am leaving it with a pleasant realization that it wasn't depleted! In fact, we're not doing too bad.... (of course, I can always use more money.....)

I started 2005 with very little contact from my friends from the old Herd, and I am leaving it after having established contact with them. I see how much has changed and I'm gratified to see that they are moving on with their lives too.

All in all, on the balance sheet, the results look good.

How much is much too much?

I could not run off to the gym today and workout as I got a frantic call from home which sent me hurtling back at lightspeed. Turns out Joshua's been crying a lot today. So much that while his mom struggled to change his nappies as fast as she could, he just went on crying then, all of a sudden he.... just quit.

And went stiff.

That was enough to make DefCon One and just enough to make me a bit more like the animal scum who drive along the roads of Manila everyday.

Long story done, it turned out that upon confirming with his pedia, babies of Josh's age tend to get traumatized by "overcrying". This is not in any way fatal or approximating a seizure but they tend to get stiff out of too much crying. In tagalog, we say "napuruhan" (lit: had too much)
nothing serious, just very very alarming.

This said and done, I chalk one more new thing learned today. I'm sure the road will be filled with more and more lessons. I hope they come cheaply as this one today. I always fear the lessons in life which come with an expensive cost.

As for Josh, he's a tough kid. Always been a fighter even only after a few seconds of birth... (but thats for another story next time...) I keep forgetting infants are tough. Thank God for that. Maybe its the guardian angels who are always looking over their shoulders.

The only real bad thing about this is that it really stresses Ana out. Hope she gets to chill out soon as motherhood, I found out at least in this early stage, can be taxing.

ROME

"The teachers told us, the Romans built this place
They built a wall and a temple, an edge of the empire
Garrison town,
They lived and they died, they prayed to their gods
But the stone gods did not make a sound
And their empire crumbled, 'til all that was left
Were the stones the workmen found..."

All This Time
Sting

With these words running through my head, I watched the first episode of HBO's Rome, airing here in the country a few weeks ago. Suffice to say I've been hooked since then, and not even the gurgling and cooing of our infant at home could keep me away from the tv at 10 pm, Tuesday night.

The last time I went gaga over a tv series in HBO was the time they aired Ambrose's 'A Band of Brothers' sometime back. Rome hit me with the same intensity, only in a different way. This is one DVD set I AM GOING TO HAVE TO GET MYSELF ONE DAY....

All the scheming, wheeling and dealing, sex, violence and corruption which accompanied the death of the republic is portrayed luridly in every episode. Attention to detail is superb, from the architecture of the forum, to the lorica segmentata of legionary Titus Pullo: it's all there. Plus, the most imaginative portrayal of the historical characters in the story: Gaius Julius Ceasar, Mark Antony, Octavian (the Boy Who Would be Emperor) to name just a very few. The conflicts in human nature and politics are likewise portrayed larger than life, from the schemes of the Julii to the dilemnas faced by Lucius Vorenus, both as a father and head of the family and as an officer and a gentleman.

All in all, what really strikes me is that despite the apparent alien-ness of the Romans in 1BC in terms of religion, beliefs, politics, entertainment, war and technology from our supposedly modern civilization, the conflicts and dilemnas faced by the characters in Rome are alarmingly so close to what we in the 21st century have to face today. What comes to mind is the old adage which goes something like this: the more things change, the more they remain the same.

No truer words have been spoken.

Gas attack!

No, this is not an account about the infamous chemical warfare assaults suffered by soldiers during world war I (later grouped under the class WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION). This is something else more benign.

It appears that my son Josha, who is now a month and 6 days old is perenially struggling to rid himself of a lot of gas from his tummy. Flatulence, I guess, to us adults. It seems really laughable but I guess to Josh, it is anything but a laughing matter. In fact, I catch him making all manner of odd sounds amidst screwing his face into an equally large amount of odd expressions. Some may say this looks cute but I swear that if Josh could talk like we can, we'd hear an earful about all this. I further suspect very little of it would be very nice to hear.

Mulling over this seemingly trivial matter of infant intestinal gas has reaffirmed to me that everyone of us on this planet, no exception, have our own personal hurdles to face and overcome each day. It doesn't matter if you're the richest man in the city, with hordes of fawning sycophants at your beck and call. Neither does it matter if you're Mr. Politico from our infamous "house of representa-thieves" who sleeps on a bed of hard earned cash (earned with such difficulty by somebody else of course!). The bottom line is, you've got your personal struggles everyday, every minute. It only really ends when you're dead (and somehow, there's a distinct possibility it may not really end at that point....). The only way to face all of this, is to do so the way everyone has been doing it for the last fifty thousand or so years: taking it one day at a time.

So there's Joshua's intestinal gas which he manfully deals with, a day at a time. I've heard it said that babyhood is bliss and infants sleep like they haven't a care in the world. Seeing all this convinces me this may not altogether be true. So in the meantime, we'd gotten a routine infant stool test to see if the problem is in his infant formula. I guess we'll find out soon.

As for me, there's my own personal hurdle to face when the results are out. It is called pre-Chirstmas traffic, Metro Manila style. Oh yeah, an expatriate who's a client once remarked that the Philippines shuts down on December 16 every year and goes on holiday mode, only to resume work in January. Just experiencing traffic in Metro Manila's pre-Chirstmas thoroughfares makes me wonder what he meant by shutting down. Judging from the view down here at street level it just seems that EVERYONE is out in force.....

He watches us always

Patience isn't one of my virtues.

I recall my boss telling me most emphatically that he is not a patient man. I also recall nodding solemnly and concurring with him in an equally most emphatic manner that I myself am not the most patient of all men.

Ana tells me that married life brings patience to most men. She says her older brother who she holds in high esteem used to be quite quarrelsome when confronted by vicious drivers who prowl the streets of Manila (and believe me, those of you who have not driven these mean streets: the drivers one encounters here are the scum of the earth). Well, one kid later and a few years down the line have made him more patient and a lot less quarrelsome.

I guess she is correct as I don't get into that many run ins as I used to in the old days. Yet sometimes, something just happens which tests your sanity....

The automatic teller machines were jammed today and being spoiled rotten here in the office by having people doing my bank withdrawals/deposts etc, I joined the rest of humanity by lining up at the bank today to withdraw a measly sum to add to the cash I'd be bringing to pick up a videocam sometime later this week. Lining up was not so bad even if it took the better part of an hour but what really turns out to frazzle someone is FINALLY, upon reaching the counter, the teller informs me that I can't withdraw money without making out a check first.

Something tells me this is bound to be the most idiotic thing I'd be hearing this week? Since when did anyone have to make out a check in order to withdraw his own money? Of course, the teller is real apologetic-like and decent and tells me I can get myself a check right there in the bank. Just go to the desk nearby and pay for one. He did not say that the nearby desk had another long, long line of doomed souls waiting for redemption.

I felt it was time to go. After all, there is a limit to bullshit anyone is willing to put up with.

Suffice to say I wasn't feeling very nice or very friendly when I got back to my office room. To calm down, I started transferring the newest pictures of Joshua to my PC.

And that's when I came across the picture you see at the head of this rant (my thanks if you've had the patience to follow me so far and read this far)! Looking at Joshua's smile and the utter guilelessness of his expression, it just hit me: could it be that God looks down on us and sees everyone of us the same way I do when I'm looking at Joshua?

Now isn't that something? If an utterly impatient person like yours truly can feel a great beaming pride and great warmth when beholding his pride and joy what more can God feel when he's looking down at us?

I guess its a great comfort knowing someone up there is watching us with a great and tender sense of love and affection at least the same way we feel towards those we care most about in life.

A sort of homecoming

There was a time I was really into airsoft. Airsoft is a hobby involving replica firearms which shoot 6mm plastic pellets. Airsoft guns (also called AEGs - automatic electric guns) originated from Japan. I understand that gun ownership is really restricted in Japan so a market emerged to cater to firearms enthusiasts. Hence, so many, many airsoft guns have since been produced, from the ubiquitous M16 to the more exotic FN P90.

I was really into the hobby since I got back to it in February 2000. That meant, all my Sundays were spent donning all my precious hoarded military gear, driving off to different playing sites both in and out of the city I live in, and of course running around shooting down hordes of honest and not-very-honest fellow players. It was great fun and it kept me in shape.

Of course, my life changed in late 2001. I met the woman I would later marry, we tied the knot, we moved out, settled down and this year, just about a month ago, we had our baby boy. Airsoft went the way of my other pursuits such as warhammer 40k and role playing games - straight out the backburner.

With both Ana, my wife, and Joshua, my kid, safe and sound at home, I felt that now would be a good time to get back into airsoft. Actually, I'd just be visiting my old team mates as I still won't be playing till I get all my scattered gear back and get those flu shots.

Nonetheless, I was in high spirits when I went to see my old team last Sunday. Our team is called FENRIS, and I'm proud to say that I'm still counted to be a part of them, even if I'd been less than visible during this last year or so. Fenris was going through their manuevers in an empty lot near Pioneer street in Pasig City that day. Coming back was a great thing that day as the guys made me feel welcome such that I felt like I never left at all. Still, much of it was a shock:

New faces. I'd been out for such a long time there were new faces all around. Although I just started to get to know the new guys all around, I instantly felt they were good guys: chaps with their hearts in the right place and the right amount of fire in their bellies.

New gear. Man, the guys maxed out on wargear (to borrow the term from 40k) during my absence. I felt positively ancient standing next to the troopers kitted out in their rig.

New guns. Ah, airsoft can't be airsoft without the AEGs. Back in 2000, Dutch (a buddy of mine in the team) and I were wishing for a good M249 SAW and an M14 in AEG form. Fast forward to December 2005 and viola: Dutch starts showing me both his M249 (para version) and M14. He was even nice enough to let me test shoot them.

All in all, it was a great way to spend the afternoon after such a long and stressful two months. I hope, sometime soon, I get to join the boyz in their maneuvers.