The Midnight Oil

To build, or not to build?

2008-10-20T17:45:00.000+08:00

In the midst of a global recession, the current real estate turmoil and wall street breakdown in the US, we recently came face to face with a very, very tough decision.

To build, or not to build - our first home, now, at the time of crisis - that is the question.

Perhaps it will be safer to wait. We have only been here in Australia for 10 months, after all. Perhaps we're rushing things. We could stay renting for 1 or 2 more years, like most migrants who were here before us did, before we even think about buying our first home.

Perhaps.

I could end the story right here, and leave you all hanging with the same question that bugged us for days. Do we, or do we not proceed? Those of you who have known me for years probably know the answer already.

Yes we did. And though I have established a reputation among family members and friends as a risk-taker, this, as the way things are currently turning out to be, is a risk I'll probably look back a couple of years from now and say, "Boy, am I glad I took it". I'll tell you why later.

So, on a lovely spring day some 3 weeks ago, I went to see my agent and we pushed pen on paper. It didn't made as much as an effect until 30 minutes after, when he shook my hand and said "Congratulations". That's when it hit me. Damn. I just signed the contract of sale of my very first land.

Creek at Ridgewater Village

The land we bought is 448 square metres (not bad for a first home), and is located in Ridgewater, a new village inside the same suburb we are currently in, at Caroline Springs. It sits on top of a rolling hill overlooking plush greenery and a nearby creek (years of writing ads for real estate companies sure came in handy). It's the most picturesque place in the estate (as the brochure says) and is also walking distance to the town centre, 3 schools, 2 inddor pools, 4 tennis courts, 10 basketball courts, 2 football fields, 5 cafes (including gloria jean's), a skate park, a barbecue park, a huge gym, the medical clinic, the police HQ, a massive lake, and yes, the state-of-the-art library.

The house we've chosen to build is composed of 3 bedrooms,
2 bathrooms and an ensuite,
a study, double garage, and an outdoor living area or alfresco. Again, not bad for a first home. Building won't start until March of next year though, since the land won't be ready until then.

But then again, you might still ask, why? Why would I look back, a couple of years from now,
and say, "Boy, am I glad I took that risk?" Why is it a good time to build now, considering the world's economy is falling apart?

My wife was asking me the same question. And all I can tell her was wait. Now being a banker has some advantages, and one of these is being able to read financial trends way ahead of others. True enough, a couple of weeks after we signed the contract, home loan interest rates in Australia plunged for the first time in 3 years. Economists predict rates will hit an all-time low by the first quarter of next year (same time we're already building). Not only that, the federal government has also increased the First Homeowner's Grant (money given by the government for, well, first-time home buyers) from $14,000 to $26,000! Which is enough to offset the 7% deposit we're paying for the house and land!

Here are some photos I took of the display home. The house we're about to build will look exactly the same, except for the furniture (of course), and the oven since I've upgraded into a larger, freestanding one and a canopy range hood. The facade will also be different since we're putting some bricks on it. Pardon the excitement. But if you're 32 year old and married with kids, and spent the last 31 years of your life living with your parents or by their means, you'll know exactly why I am so thrilled.

Just click on the photos to enlarge

Right, meet Left

2008-05-24T21:23:00.000+08:00

I've traded my right brain for my left. You might think it's preposterous, unthinkable, unforgivable, even, but in an effort to adapt, survive, and settle in quickly, I've decided to utilize logic in lieu of creativity.

To those who have been asking me lately, my answer is simple. Yes and No. Yes, I already have a job. And no, I'm no longer working in advertising. You read it right, this copywriter is now a banker. More specifically, a Financial Advisor. After 7 years of writing taglines, jingles, and TV commercials, I am now calling people up and giving them sound financial advice about their personal loans, credit cards, home loans, bonds, stocks, and other investments. Words such as taglines, jingles, and brainstorms, were replaced by assets, liabilities and equity.

I know. What the f#@*.

I am currently employed at The Commonwealth Bank of Australia, the largest financial institution in the land down under. And before you start thinking that I sold my soul to the devil, I just want you to know that it wasn't what I really planned for. You see, finding a job here in Australia is like finding the perfect pair of shoes on Ebay. There's heaps of choices available on the internet but somehow, you can't find the one that you really, really want. Oftentimes, you'll find the style you like, but it doesn't fit. Or it may fit you, but it's not really what you're looking for. In the end, you bite your lips and say, "I'll just have to settle with this." Like I said, there's thousands and thousands of choices. Visit www.seek.com.au and see for yourself. In fact, Melbourne was voted as the 2nd country with the most online job-hunters in the world (I forgot who's first). You can spend the whole week just sending out resumes to companies and expect at least half of them to reply and set you up for an interview. As long as you're not picky, you'll get a job in no time at all.

But then of course, the first time I logged on, I typed the keywords "advertising", "copywriter", and "creative" on the search button. To my surprise, I found out that there weren't as many available as I thought there would be. To top it all, most advertising jobs are either for Art Directors or Account Executives. And almost 80% of the jobs available are located in Sydney. There were a handful copywriter positions, but most of them are for advertorials, merchandising and events-focused. I sent my resume anyway.

Long story short, my applications came back unsuccessful. At this point, I have already submitted my portfolio along with my letter of endorsement to McCann Melbourne, and, just to make sure, to Clemenger BBDO, Leo Burnett, Grey, and J. Walter Thompson. I was told that none of them have an opening. I had spent time going back and forth to McCann the most (I am a former McCannite anyway), in all fairness, they were also the one who accommodated me the most. The first time I went there they were moving office, so I had to callback a month after. The next time i called, the creative director (they have no ECDs) was on a holiday. The third (and last time), I met his secretary, who told me they just recently hired a copywriter and that the CD would like to keep my folio for future opportunities. I thanked her and left. I was heartbroken. I couldn't believe that all 7 years that I have spent, all the skills I have developed and talent I have unearthed would all go into a shed, thrown away and locked up for future reference. I knew getting into advertising was hard, (it is, even in the Philippines), but I never imagined it would be this hard especially since I already have experience. I was shattered.

Then, a relative told me about a friend who also used to work as a copywriter back in the Philippines. He told me that when he first came here, he did the same things I did, sending resumes to all the top agencies, then to lesser-known offices, until he finally landed a job --- as a graphic artist. He told me that one of the advertising agencies he applied for actually told him, that one reason why newly-arrived migrants like us have a hard time applying for copywriting jobs is because we don't have a clear grasp of Australian culture yet. We don't know what makes them laugh, frightened, sad, in love, and, most important of all, what makes them buy... yet. After hearing that, all I can say is "fair enough."

Long story short, I am now a financial planner. Don't get me wrong, I like what I'm doing. I may not love it the way I adore writing copy and conceptualizing, but I like it for 3 reasons. Security, Time, and Privileges. Security knowing that I'm a permanent, full-time employee of one of the largest and richest corporations in Australia. Time because unlike in advertising,
we don't, no, never, ever, do overtime. In fact, the moment it hits 5:30, people leave the building as if it was burning. Moreover, as soon as I get home, I'm no longer thinking about work. How often can you say that in advertising? Finally, the privileges. I get to enjoy perks and frills such as no fees and discounts on my credit card (I only get charged half the interest), substantial discounts instant approvals on personal loans and home loans, golf club and spa memberships, bonuses, and travel opportunities. And the pay? Let's just say that it's Good on Australian standards, on Philippine standards however, it's f#@*ng Great! All I can say is I now earn 4 times than what I used to earn in Manila. And I have only started.

Do I miss advertising? Of course. Will I still pursue copywriting? Maybe. I don't know. Neil French has been a copywriter, an account executive, a rent collector, a waiter, a singer, a debt collector, and many other things until he finally came back to advertising and became an Ad God, so, who knows? I myself, dreams of one day becoming a chef, a film director or a novelist, so, like I said, who knows? As I told you before, you can get anything you want in Melbourne. As long as you're not picky.

So I'm parking my writer's hat in the closet for now, and putting on my crisp plaid suit. There's a lot of things I can do to keeping my creativity intact anyway. Like writing this blog, for instance. For now, I'm trading creativity for logic.

Right, meet Left.

Citizen Russ

2007-11-19T19:19:00.000+08:00

And you thought it'll be super.

Not having to go to work. Waking up every morning (or afternoon) without worrying about running late for today's internals. No deadlines. No overtimes. No taglines to think about nor storylines to write.

At the back of your mind, you begin to chant Elmer Fudd's infamous lines... "no more classes, no more books, no more teacher's dirty looks..." you may not be in school anymore but the thought of quitting your job begins to feel like a long, overdue vacation.

You're free at last. You have unchained yourself from the bondage of your cubicle. Or, as they call it in advertising, workstation. For the first time in years, you wander through Ayala Ave. without having to walk like a madman in order to beat the rush hour. You go to malls during office hours and park your car wherever you want.

You are, after all, unemployed. A freewheler. Answerable only to yourself and accountable to noone. You are an official bum.

You are having the grandest time of your life, until one day, you get sick. You succumb to an illness, one that raises your body temperature to 40 degrees celcius, day in and day out. Your fever never ceases. Your body starts to weaken and and you can't eat anything because they all taste like shit.

On the 3rd day, you ask to be rushed to the hospital. Fearing dengue but clueless nonetheless. The doctors run some tests. Then on the 4th day, concluded that you have Typhoid Fever. The nurses, upon admitting you at the hospital, ask you one simple question. One question that made you wish you weren't jobless.

"Do you have a health card?"

You bite your lips. Then you realize. You're unemployed. A freewheler. Answerable only to yourself and accountable to noone. You are, an official bum.

You rush yourself to recovery, knowing that each day you spend in the hospital is another dime taken off from the last of your savings. You have never worried about hospital bills all your life, except now.

You begin to understand that you are no longer privileged. You are no longer enjoying health benefits from your employer. You don't have one, remember?

It sucks. One day you're tip-toeing, enjoying the privileges of being free from the bondage of employment and the next day you're wishing that you don't have to worry about paying your hospital bills.

Finally, you accept the fact. It sucks to live without benefits. It sucks to be plain old, Citizen Russ.

And so it can be told

2007-09-30T04:10:00.000+08:00

I have managed to keep this to myself, my family and some very close friends for a long time and now I can finally let it out. I didn’t want to jinx it by telling everyone about it. Nor do I want to deal with the embarrassment just in case “it” didn’t push thru.

But “it” did.

And so it can be told.

My family (wife and kids) and I are moving to Australia. Finally. After almost 2 years of praying persistently, savings drained, and waiting in agony.

Yes, we waited. Almost impatiently and nearly losing hope. We waited as an acquaintance, who applied for immigration just a few months ahead of us was granted a Visa a full year ago. We waited as requests for documents and other requirements pile up one after the other. We waited for the medical results. We waited as our patience and resources slowly dwindled. We waited and wondered why our application was taking so long to get approved. And yet, when we received our visa grants two weeks ago, all we can say is “this soon?”

And so it can be told.

The Australian Immigration has given us a deadline. We have to be in Australia by end of November. Yes, this November. It took us a while to process the thought: we’re celebrating Christmas and New Year away from our parents, siblings, relatives and friends. We’re celebrating the holidays, for the first time, down under. “Be careful what you wish for”, so they say. “It might just come sooner than expected” must follow next. Now I wish it could've come later.

And so it can be told.

I can still remember when my Aunt (who sponsored us to Australia) went home to Manila for the first time after 12 years of residing in Melbourne. It was 8 years ago. I was already 2 years married then, and a father of a bouncing baby boy. Back then, my Aunt was already trying to convince me to apply for immigration. She said she’ll sponsor us and even though I didn’t graduate from college, we can still make it because of my wife’s professional skills as a banker. I politely declined her offer. My reason was simple. I would only go to foreign countries for vacation. And would only entertain the thought of leaving my family for work in, say, the US, if I can go back home to them every now and then. I heart NY after all and I have always dreamed of making it big in the big apple or to visit other foreign destinations like Rio, Amsterdam, Barcelona, Greece, or the United Kingdom. But to live in a foreign country and raise my children there? Thanks but no thanks. That was always been my position.

So what happened? People change. That’s what happened. We change as our beliefs and motivations change. We change as we grow old and realize that the tooth fairy doesn’t exist. We change as we expand our horizons or gain new experiences. We change for various reasons. For me though, the change wasn’t sudden. In fact it took me years to realize that it’s getting harder and harder to provide a good life for your family (especially for your children) in this country. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Philippines and I will always do but let’s face the facts. We are a third world country (we have always been and if things don’t turn around soon, we will always be). Our population is more than 90 million (it matters when you’re just a tiny speck on the world map). Our government officials are among the most corrupt in the world. We are a country known worldwide for red tape, graft and corruption, mail-order brides, poverty, impeachment trials, political scams, terrible traffic, grave pollution, and electing doofuses into public office. I have lived in this country for 31 years and for 31 years I have endured. But the time has come to think hard, really hard and consider plans for my children’s future. The fact that I live in Malabon, a place below sea level where it floods every time it rains hard (rising up to more than 6 feet! But that’s for another post), the fact that I travel almost 2 hours on the way to work and on the way home every single day due to traffic and pothole-ridden roads, and that poverty increases continually year after year, makes the change of heart even easier. After all, my wife and I are not getting any younger. Our kids are getting bigger and bigger and our place is sinking deeper and deeper.

It’s time. The prospect of migrating to a country offering bigger and better opportunities was more than just promising. The decision was a no-brainer. I’m not doing it for myself anymore. I’m doing it for my kids. We’re moving to Oz.

And so it can be told.

The Philippines. My residence for 31 years. My country. My home. I am still proud to be a Filipino. For despite all the cons I have listed above, there are still many pros. In fact too many to mention. We are still a beautiful country. For despite the massive pollution and maddening traffic in metropolitan areas, we are still home to the world’s most beautiful beaches, the most exotic animals and the most exhilarating tourist attractions. Despite crooked government officials, red tape and graft and corruption, in general, we are still good-natured people, full of good values, honest, and with good moral character. We are, after all, Asia’s bastion of Christianity, housing the most number of Catholics than any other country aside from Rome. Despite the prevalence of poverty and the decline of the quality of education, we are still the most hardworking and talented. We are the most fluent in English (the universal language) in Asia, proven by the current boom of the call center industry. You may not know it but chances are, when you’re calling the toll free number to report a lost credit card or request service for your gadget in the US, you are talking to a Filipino operator. Despite all the negatives, we still have Olympians, legendary athletes, talented artists and other prominent figures making waves around the world.

The Philippines. I may be leaving but my heart stays with you. I may soon be hopping with kangaroos and playing with koalas but I still think the Philippine eagle, our national animal rules. I am still proud to be a Filipino. I was then and I will always be.

And so it can be told.

In a few days from now, I will be landing in the land they call down under. I will be walking with the bushwalkers, bringing out the barbie for a Sunday grill or calling my friends “mates”. I will be migrating to Australia with my family in search for a new and brighter future. I will be starting life all over again. Writing new goals and wiping the slate clean. And with a heavy heart, I will be leaving you all, my friends, my family, my country.

My home.

And so it can be told.

I still have almost 2 months left, I know. But right now, allow me to tell you that I will miss you all.

Blades Of "Gory"

2007-08-25T12:46:00.000+08:00

No, this is not a typo of the title of Will Ferrell’s latest movie. Similar setting, but this one’s for real.

This is about a lesson I learned last Sunday. And like any other lessons in life, I learned it the hard and painful way. That is, to never, ever, imitate what you see in the movies.

Ok, I’m exaggerating. I never actually got to perform a half axle while ice skating with my family. But the damn movie’s the reason why I even thought of trying to ice skate in the first place. It was my first, and definitely the last.

To cut the long story short, I took my family to Mall of Asia (the biggest shopping mall in Asia) last Sunday (to my kids’ delight), a day after we saw “Blades of Glory” on DVD and decided to give ice skating a shot. How hard could it be? I have rollerbladed before, so I figured, it’s just a walk in the park.

A park in hell, that is! Darn skates just won’t keep steady! I found myself clinging on the tiny wall protrusion surrounding the rink, hanging on for dear life for the first 30 minutes! And when I finally mustered enough courage to let go and start actually “skating”, it happened. I slipped. On the way down, I heard, and felt my knees snapping like a broken twig. It happened so fast that I couldn’t even remember whether I twisted my leg, or hyper-extended it. All I can remember is that I fell hard on my lower back, my big, fat ass sitting on my right leg. And then, pain. Unimaginable, excruciating, mind-numbing pain. I let out a loud groan. Loud enough to catch everybody’s attention including a grandma wearing a hearing aid shopping for new lingerie on the 2^nd floor of the mall. Skaters started to rush toward me. Among them, a pair of the mall's ice skating crew. I swear I could’ve known what the guys were thinking when they saw my condition - lying on ice, my right leg buried under my bum, contorted in a ghastly manner - I swear the words “Oh shit” were written all over their faces. Or maybe, "dude, you’re so screwed.”

To cut the long story shorter, rescue came and helped me get back on my feet, sans the skates of course. I realized that I have managed to get on the farthest corner of the rink by clinging on the wall for 30 minutes, which makes it even more difficult to walk back to dry land walking on ice with only my socks on. I couldn’t stand the cold for 5 minutes. I was afraid that my feet would get frostbite (I remember the butler in “Mr. Deed’s” quite vividly). And so I sat on ice again, murmuring the words “frostbite, frostbite” to the medic who rescued me. Soon they handed me a pair of slippers. On the way out, I felt my knee snap for the 3^rd time. So I screamed again. What irked me was that the crew actually told me that I should just try to walk out of the rink because “it won’t look good” if they put me on a stretcher. If not for the unthinkable pain I was dealing with, I swear I could’ve told them, “I don’t care if I look like a fucking moron, or if my accident causes a commotion, just get me out of here fast! It’s fucking freezing cold, you asshole!” (pardon my French) but I didn’t. A few minutes after, I found myself on a wheelchair, sitting (while still grimacing in pain) in front of a guy wearing a white coat. Finally, a doctor! I was taken to Borough Medical Clinic on the 2^nd floor, where I had my leg X-rayed. Unfortunately, I was told that the radiologist just went home, so the doctor (who is by the way not an Orthopedist) read my x-ray results. Then he told me that it “seems” I was fortunate enough not to have broken or fractured any bone, and that the swelling “might” be caused by torn ligaments and muscles. He then bandaged my knee and told me to put ice on it, go home and rest.

To cut the long story even shorter, the day after I got the accident, I woke up with excruciating (I’m beginning to lose words describing how painful it was – by the way, it still is) pain and even more swelling on my right leg. Then I remembered the doctor (who is not an Orthopedist) telling me to have it checked by an Ortho. He also said that an MRI would help determine what ligaments were torn and what to do next.

That same day, I called up Medicard (my health card provider) and asked a referral for an Ortho near my place. They then told me that since the injury is still fresh, I can go straight to the ER and have urgent treatment. So I went to St. Luke’s Hospital where 3 certified Orthopedists (finally!) assessed my condition. They took numerous (7) x-rays of my injured leg in various positions. Afterwhich, one of them showed me one of the x-rays and explained what really happened to my knee. Now, I may not be a doctor but it doesn’t take one to conclude that my right knee is a mess based on the x-ray he showed me. He said I have patellar subluxation – a condition where my patella or knee cap is dislocated from its groove and because the ligaments supporting it are torn, hence the painful snapping sensation everytime I try to move. Damn you, Dr. Not An Orthopedist! Just when I thought it’s just a torn ligament, now a busted knee cap playing merry go round on my leg? No fair! To prove his point, he asked me to lie down and straighten my injured leg. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel anything. Then he asked me to bend it slowly. I did. And then it snapped again. At this point, I have learned to control the volume of my groan depending on where I am and who I’m with at the moment. And since I’m in a room full of sick patients, macho doctors and cute nurses, I tried hard to muffle my scream. In my mind though, I was cursing.

“That’s it”, the Ortho said. It’s definitely dislocated. Bloody hell, doc. isn’t it what the x-rays are for?

And so, it happened. My Blades of Glory moment has turned into a “Gory” event. Right now, I’m wearing an immobilizer, a leg splint-type of device made of neoprene, Velcro straps and heavy metal sheets. The purpose of which, is to keep my leg straight at all times, since the Ortho described my dislocated patella as “very unstable”. He also told me that I have to wear it, and rest my leg for at least a month. The moment I got home, however, I took it off because it was very uncomfortable (imagine walking, sitting, lying on bed, riding on the car, and taking a tricycle ride with your right leg fully extended). But I was wrong. The moment I finally unfastened the last Velcro, my knee snapped again. By then I was already in the living room so I turned the groan on full volume. Doc was right. Always on it is.

Beware, the Immobilizer!

Today, six days after my accident happened, my knees are still swollen. It doesn't always hurt anymore, but it does get bitchy every morning. I am scheduled for an MRI on Tuesday and I still can’t make a schedule with my Physical Therapist because of the swelling. My new Ortho said that after the MRI results are revealed, we will then be able to know if my knee needs surgery.

I hope not. But then again, every time I look at the heavy, itchy, uncomfortable immobilizer tightly fastened on my knee, I’m thinking I’d rather go under the knife than spend one month with this monstrous device wrapped around my walker. Not to mention that I have to walk around using a cane. Come to think of it, it’s quite cool playing Dr. House. You can get grumpy and stubborn and people will give way. You are after all, disabled.

Whoever said the famous lines “stick and stones may break my bones” obviously forgot to include the word “ice”. At the end of the day, I can only blame one person for my ordeal.

Damn you, Will Ferrell!

The Return

2007-08-23T23:46:00.000+08:00

No deed humbles a man better than falling down on his knees.

I recently found wisdom in this. And truth.

I have always blamed work for being too busy to update my blog. I always complained about not having enough time to do the things I want to do, like playing with my kids, taking photography classes, or writing a new post. I have juggled work and personal life and dropped the ball so many times that I thought I should call it quits with Bloggerville.

Until it happened. I fell. Hard. On my knees. Literally.

I had an accident where I dislocated my knee cap (I will write the details on my next post). The doctors said I need at least a month of bed rest. Lying down. Doing nothing but rest my injured leg for it to heal completely.

Now I have all the time in the world to write.

I am humbled.

I hope the blogging community welcomes me back with open arms.

Bangkoked!

2007-05-14T01:45:00.000+08:00

Finally, after almost two weeks of sorting through 700+ digital images, I can now post my Bangkok photos. I really have no time to write a long post though, so I’m going to make this short and sweet.

Been to Bangkok for our 10^th year wedding anniversary. Stayed at the Baiyoke Sky Hotel, the tallest hotel in Thailand (88 stories). Got upgraded from deluxe room to junior suite = fantastic view. Toured most of Bangkok’s temples. Saw many Buddhas in various shapes and forms. Took a lovely night cruise in the Chao Praya river. Even more fantastic view! Food was unforgettable. Rummaged for cheap bargains at countless day bazaars and night markets. Watched a live “show!” Visited the snake farm where I almost got jumped on by a copperhead. Took a day trip on boat to see more temples. Went to the Grand Palace where our trip was cut short due to the Princess’ arrival. Picture of the King plastered everywhere from huge streamers to coins. Rode a “tuktuk”, Bangkok’s version of a tricycle. Dinner at the Suan Lum night bazaar, got a complete, mouth-watering meal for just 50 baht (About one dollar)! Went barhopping and enjoyed Bangkok’s nightlife. Went to a spa, had a relaxing Thai massage. Did a city tour, saw the big-ass reclining Buddha (about 50 meters long and 15 meters high!) Spent our last night looking at Bangkok’s skyline on the hotel’s revolving 78^th floor. Drank cocktails at the bar on the 75^th floor. Again, fantastic view! Had our last buffet breakfast. Checked out. Headed to the newly-constructed Suvarnabhumi (pronounced as Sawana-boom) airport. Took the plane ride home.

Here are some of the photos. Click on the images if you want a larger view:

From exotic food, cheap clothes and fake watches, to enormous Buddhas and beautiful temples, Bangkok, the so-called “Land of Smiles”, did not disappoint. In fact, there’s just too many to do, so many sites to visit and so many items to shop for that’s enough to disconnect you from the real world and make you feel like a King for a day. Or, like in our case, for 3 nights and 4 days.

As the song goes, “One night in Bangkok and the world’s your oyster”. Yup, this one-hit wonder of a jet-setter has been, to coin a phrase, Bangkoked. And I won’t mind doing it again.

Sir Russkal

2007-04-12T10:21:00.000+08:00

Don't ask why, but I have recently subscribed to Astrology.com for a free daily tarot reading delivered to my email.

It's been a week and I admit I haven't really taken the time to read my readings since my automatic response to spam mail is to delete it.

I have seen today's reading though, and it was curiously pretty accurate of the situation I am currently in.

Here is my tarot reading:

The Knight of Swords card suggests that my power today lies in change. I am quick, sharp, and ready for assertive, revolutionary or affirmative action. I overcome obstacles or resolve conflict by getting right to the point, cutting to the chase or confronting challenges head on -- even if this means going against the grain. My communication, style or expectation is on the cutting edge and relies on reason, design, the latest craze or facts. It is my honor to protect and defend my perception of truth. I measure twice and cut once. I am empowered by expectation or duty and my virtue is commitment to the greater good.

Yeah baby, I'm your knight in shining armor.

Thumbs Up!

2007-04-07T04:21:00.000+08:00

My heartfelt thanks to

Critique My Blog for the wonderful review of The Midnight Oil.

It gives me great pride that a lot of people are enjoying my posts, especially the ones about my country, the Philippines, considering that we're just a tiny speck in the world map.

Click here if you want to know what Critique My Blog has to say about this blog.

Don't blame the camera

2007-04-03T01:26:00.000+08:00

"Where's the video record button?"

My wife asked, desperately, as she tried to make sense of the buttons beside the huge LCD.

"Wait, I'll read the manual" was my quick reply. Quick, and stupid.

How would I know that a digital SLR doesn't capture video? How would I know its difference from point-and-shoot digicams? It was my first SLR, let alone a digital one.

The camera in question is my new Nikon D-40. A gift I bought for myself for my 31st birthday. As soon as we accepted the fact that it doesn't do video, we took it for a test shoot. The result? Marvelous. This may not be the most sophisticated machine in its class, but for a guy who started with Polaroids and good-as-disposable instamatics, it's a breakthrough.

Here are some samples I took on our recent trip to the beach. Remember, me no professional. Me just likey to shoot. If you think the photos are crap, don't blame the camera. Blame the frustrated photographer:

Splendid. On my standards, at least.

I still haven't read the manual. I still don't know how aperture, light metering or ISO works and how to configure the settings manually. I'm taking my time. Right now, I'm loving my new toy.

Yet another reason to blog more frequently.

Yet another reason to view the world differently.

This time, it's personal

2007-03-26T00:49:00.000+08:00

Enough excuses about work. Frankly, it’s getting old.

Every year, my wife and I anticipate the coming of March with both excitement and trepidation. Excitement, since we both celebrate our birthdays this month (15 and 16 – yes, our birthdays are just one day apart, yes, we were born on the same year, and yes, you missed it) and apprehension because of the same reason – we’re turning a year old, not to mention the cost of treating two sets of friends and relatives on the same day can be overwhelming.

It has its ups and downs, having (almost) the same birthday as your spouse. It was cute when you start dating, learning about it for the first time, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe our birthdays are just one day apart! We must be soul mates!” For which she replies, “Oh my gosh!” and then you realize that when you’re married, your “soul mate” will always steal your thunder the morning after. And all the gifts, cakes, and party leftovers are not yours to hold and treasure anymore. I’m guessing you already know who was born when.

Speaking of birthdays, 2 weeks ago, my wife and I found ourselves willingly participating in an unforgettable and life-altering endeavor. We helped a couple as they go through their IVF (In Vitro Fertilization) procedure. Having tried to conceive for almost 5 years now, the couple is considering this their last shot. Procedures like this can be very costly, mentally and physically taxing, after all. I would not divulge any more details because it’s a sensitive topic. And I don’t want to offend anyone by posting it in this blog, my wife, included. Let’s just say we found ourselves helping an acquaintance in need, and found new friends in return. The couple, who flew in from abroad were sweet and kind souls. They were giving, generous and very thoughtful, despite the fact that the husband, an American, is a stranger in Philippine soil. Unexpectedly, he was warm, soft-spoken and very friendly. And my wife and I tried our best to show them the world-renowned Filipino hospitality. We exchanged views over French cuisine, chatted till the wee hours of the morning about advertising, culture, religion, almost about everything including George W. Bush. And up to now, it still amazes me, how two perfect strangers, of two completely unidentical races can connect on a spiritual, emotional and intellectual level. It’s baffling, really, when you think about it, how everyone and everything in the world is connected.

Unfortunately, the procedure didn’t go as everyone expected. Sadly, the couple went home, bereft of success. Our newfound friends are heartbroken and my wife and I can’t do anything about it. Except pray that they don’t lose hope, and pray that somehow soon, they get what they always wanted.

Like I said, enough excuses about work. Work is such a petty thing compared to all the things that we, people, are often neglecting. There are birthdays, for instance. Triumphs and failures. Friends and relatives. A glass of Pinot Noir and medium-well Fillet Mignon. Conversations over ice-cold beer and a pack of smokes. Gifts to open, cakes to eat and friends to treat. Places to go to and food to eat. Sickness and health. Weddings and anniversaries.

And this is where I end this post. Speaking of anniversaries, I have to search for a travel agency. My wife and I are celebrating our 10^th year wedding anniversary on April 19, in Bangkok, Thailand.

My first trip out of the country.

Too Fast, Too Fearful

2007-02-25T03:39:00.000+08:00

Have you ever thought, one day in your life that you are, or things are, moving too fast? Beating deadlines, chasing promotion, climbing the corporate ladder, marrying or just plain moving in with someone. Chances are, all of us have been, once, twice, or countless times in our lives, guilty of hurrying. It’s an endless race, like Wile E. Coyote chasing the Road Runner.

I am. And while I did remind myself and everyone who reads this blog to stop and smell the roses and enjoy the silence some time ago, I have never truly steered away from the race track. How could I? I eat deadlines for breakfast. I have too. Otherwise, I won’t be able to serve anything for breakfast at all.

And that is why, when my PC crashed almost a month ago, I was devastated. It felt like a part of me crashed too, and like a writer without a pen and paper on his hand, I felt disabled. I had many fears. True, we will probably never run out of pens and papers but in this day and age, who needs them when you have computers?

My biggest fear was losing important data. Years of moments captured on photos and videos from my trusty digital camera, 4,000+ songs diligently ripped, labeled and categorized, business files, sidelines, personal files – all important files – gone. Vanished. Kaput.

And while I was unscrewing the last screw in my CPU trying to find out what went wrong, it hits me. I may not be able to do many things for a long time. And that includes playing video games, downloading torrents, doing sidelines, surfing the net and updating my blog – my midnight routine. You may say that I can do those things in the office, but I don’t. I am a night owl (obviously) and my PC is what keeps me company when everyone else is in deep slumbers.

But that was over. My PC has been up and running 3 weeks ago. I’ve lost some files*, but was able to retrieve some from my spare hard drive, DVD backups and iPod. Nonetheless, I spent almost a week trying to restore it all. The question now is what took me so long to write a new post? I don’t exactly know the answer, but I believe it has something to do with this post’s title. I got too fast, too fearful.

I was moving too fast that when my PC broke down, all of a sudden, I have nothing to do during midnights. Everything came to a complete halt. At first, I dug out my old PS2 games and started playing again. I got bored sooner than I expected. I watched DVDs that I already saw. I read magazines, books, scribbled down poems, and struggled to write a script for a short film, all just to keep my brain and hands from being idle. But then, just like before, silence prevailed. Once again, I was captured by the serenity of my own thoughts, and it’s telling me not to rush. It’s telling me to enjoy the lull. However, it is also the same reason why I became fearful.

Not being able to update for almost a month now, I feared that I cannot write an interesting post anymore. I feared that no one will give a damn to visit and check if I have finally updated. Most importantly, I feared that I was beginning to like not being able to post. It’s new to me, the feeling of suddenly spending midnights without thinking of the next topic that I should write about. Not worrying who to visit next and whose comment I should reply to. Not spending hours just to write, search and download photos to make my latest post interesting for visitors.

We are taught that the human brain is designed to handle new experiences with either anticipation or apprehension. Oddly, I began to feel both. I was excited that finally, I don’t have to depend on my PC when my insomnia kicks in, but I was also fearful that this is not what I want to happen.

For almost a month, I was in limbo. But not anymore. I know the answer now. Like I said, it’s been more than 3 weeks since my PC was restored. I could’ve written a new post during those days but I didn’t. I could’ve visited your blog, or simply post a comment. But I didn’t. Instead, I used those days, actually midnights, to ask myself, “Do I really want to do this?” And if the answer is yes, I have to make sure that this time around, I’ll know when to stop. What I learned in this experience is that there is nothing wrong in moving too fast. You just have to know when to stop. That way, you won’t have to fear if you come face to face with a wall. Don’t be the Coyote. Be the Road Runner. Run as fast as hell but stop when you need to.

So will I set foot on the race track again? I think the answer is pretty obvious.

I am back. Hopefully now, I’m neither too fast, nor too fearful.

* I also lost the bookmarks in my Internet browser, so if I haven’t been to your blog, that means I can’t find a way to reach you. Please leave a comment so I can visit you again. Thanks.

The (M)Adman Diaries Part III: Crazy Creatives

2007-01-28T03:04:00.000+08:00

The following story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously… Ok, this is already the third of the installment. You know how it goes.

Dear Diary,

So it’s been 10 days, huh? I’m guessing this is probably the longest time I’ve lagged on my posts (I’m too lazy to check). Anyway, the migraine’s back. Yes it is. And it’s a lot more awful than MC Hammer’s comeback restyling himself as a gangsta rapper.

So where are we? Oh yes, we’re on a witch hunt, trying to figure out who among the people I work with has triggered my migraine the most. Don’t get me wrong, I know there are a lot of possible reasons for this, like my chronic insomnia (if there is such a thing), or my balding neighbor’s miserable attempts at aping Garth Brooks on karaoke. (Don’t break my head, my achy-breaky head. I just don’t think you understand… Who-wee!) But if you think about it, I’ve been an insomniac all my life and yet I never had migraine until I entered the world of advertising. So go figure.

I just think it makes perfect sense. These are the people I spend the whole day (and night) working with. And for those who are unfamiliar with the experience, think of it as going to work with the cast of Seinfeld. A typical client would be like George. Mean, neurotic and slow-witted. Elaine, however, would make a great Account Executive. She has, after all, an IQ of 151, and is often referred to by Jerry as “The queen of confrontation”.

And so it goes. I’m already done with clients and AEs. And now, I am down to one department. It has to be done. In the interest of being fair (and due to my colleagues’ constant nagging), I have to do Creatives. No stone should be left unturned in this witch hunt.

Who are we in Seinfeld, you ask?

Most people (including the clients and AEs) would agree that the creative department is surrounded by witty, eccentric and crazy people. Think Kramer and multiply that by 30.

But that’s too stereotypical, hence the reason why I’d like to think of myself as Jerry. The 'only sane man' in the stage. The figure who is "able to observe the chaos around him but not always be a part of it.” Yeah, yeah. I’m being safe. But this is my blog so bite me.

On with the show, err, post. Below are some unforgettable verbatims I have collected in my 6 years of experience working as an advertising creative.

A conversation between a Creative Director and an Art Director regarding a client revision request:

CD: "You need to add a line on the cover of the invite that says how to open it"

AD: "Huh? But it’s a tri-fold.... How do they not know how to open it?"

CD: "The client can’t figure out how to open it. Just add ‘open here, moron’"

Same project. AD asks the Copywriter to revise the copy based on the client’s inputs:

AD: "Client wants it to be simple. One word. But it has to convey everything in the brief."

Copywriter: "Oh, they must want those secret magic words that mean four things at once. Tell me man, do I look like J.K. Rowling?”

A Creative Director briefing a Production Designer regarding a sample of the casts’ costumes:

CD: "I don't like the colors, violet and black don't work together"

Designer: (Scans the CD from head to toe) "But you're wearing them!”

The same Creative Director, calling his Copywriter in the middle of a presentation after going on vacation leave for 2 weeks:

“I call you because I’m watching the ads with the client and I’ve just realized I don’t understand them either.”

Here’s more:

"I need awards! get me awards! If you don't get me awards, otherwise I will make sure you get fired before I do."
- an incompetent CD yelling at his team after being told by the management that he hasn’t won a single award in 5 years during his evaluation..

"Why not fold this up until it has sharp corners and shove it up your stupid college bum."
- the same CD criticizing the work of a nervous intern. The intern turned out to be an award-winning Art Director in a multi-national agency 4 years after.

"Listen to me people! I don't want any of you in here working on All Saints Day."
- An Executive Creative Director, thinking he's being generous.

“Guys, I’ve been told that some of you are avoiding work. I’m really disappointed. Please be reminded that in order for us to get our bonuses, we have to make an effort this quarter.”
- Same ECD, sent via text message while he was on vacation at a beach

Yet again, the same ECD doesn't show up for a client presentation, leaving his CD and a junior writer to present a major campaign:

CLIENT: "Where’s your ECD? Shouldn’t he be here?"

CD: "He can’t make it, he's out on an unbreakable out of agency commitment."

CLIENT: "Huh?"

Junior Copywriter: (Butts in) "Don't tell anyone, he's playing golf with his brother."

Talk about juniors:

"You don’t get it! It’s not what I have in mind!”

“Hey, I just followed your script!”

“Oh yeah? Then why did you make it a cartoon?"
- A junior Copywriter after an Art Director shows him his storyboard.

Two designers on a phone conversation discussing a client's logo in Photoshop. Guess which one is the junior:

"This logo isn’t the right size."

"Well, I have the file open in Photoshop and the dimensions are correct."

"That can’t be right. I’m measuring it and it’s about 1/8. Too small."

"How are you measuring it?"

"I’m holding my ruler up to the monitor."

A junior artist, after spending 6 hours on one storyboard, was confronted by the Art Director:

“Hey man, what’s taking you so long?”

“This is hard. I want to make the thought bubbles as realistic as possible.”

The same junior artist, asking a senior designer about a logo:

"Uhmm… sorry to disturb you man, I’m quite new here. This being my first job and all… So… uhm… tell me… what does the Red Cross logo look like?"

A junior copywriter, sitting in for his first radio ad recording, tells the sound engineer:

"Can you tweak the sound effects further? I want it to sound like a brick hitting a parachute."

The same copywriter, asking his art director about the copy he wrote in the layout:

“Whoa! Dude, I didn’t know you write Spanish!”
- The layout is a draft with Lorem Ipsum placeholder text

How about the oldies:

"Yeah, just make something fresh and new. Something like the Beach Boys."
- Creative Director briefing a sound designer for a jingle.

"I need you to find a blonde model…. Hmm…someone like that Carmen Diaz."
- Same Creative Director to a Talent Caster

"We are zigging when the rest of the market is zagging..."
- An Associate Creative Director in the middle of his speech for a client presentation.

"Well Lisa, after all this time you know how we work."

"Jim, my name is Susan."
- Creative Director to long time client

"I like it. It makes me want to come. I mean, to the event! It makes me want to come to the event!"
- A late fifty-something Executive Creative Director to a twenty-something AE, reviewing an invite to an event a day after flyers of the “anti-sexual harassment law” was passed in the office.

"She’s a great writer but she needs to figure out which is more important to her: this account or her sister’s wedding."
- Executive Creative Director / Agency Owner discussing the evaluation of one of his writers

"What project? I didn’t hear about that project. Two weeks ago? Oh, it was in my email? Kaya naman pala (That’s why). I don’t read my emails eh.”
- Art Director to Account Executive

AD: "Make it look like Prada... lots of young, bright, pastel colors!”

Designer: (Thinking about it for a moment) “Uhm… Don’t you mean Benetton?”

CD: “No, Prada! Don’t you watch Queer Eye?
- The AD has often denied rumors that he is gay.

Copywriter: "The voice-overs for the videos in English, German, French, Spanish, and Italian are all good, but the voices are all different! Can't we have all them done by the same guy?"

Producer: "And who do you want to do them? C-3PO?"

And other hilarious boo-boos:

"What we give you is what you get."
- Print Producer to a disgruntled Client

“Can’t you make that dog smile? Don’t you have a smile filter on this expensive machine?”
- Ex-creative Agency President and Owner

“And now… the ice cake!”
- Same owner during a pitch, meaning ´icing on the cake’

"We need something that has never been done before. Find out how everybody else did it - and do that."
- Creative Director who wanted a promotion

"Can you make the design 17% better?"
- Creative Director giving comments to his Art Director

"So you have two breaks on your bike! Whats the other one for?"
- Receptionist, flirting with a hunky Copywriter.

“Can you ask the announcer to produce a whispering scream?”
- Creative Director, during the recording of a radio spot

“I just thought of an original idea I saw in Thailand.”
- Executive Creative Director

“Brief? Why should I read the brief? Creativity comes from here!”
- Creative Director, pointing at his intestines

“It’s actually a dog… (snickers)… and he’s got this funny bark… (snickers)… no, actually it’s a bitch… you know, like a female dog… (snickers)… and she goes… (snickers) Woof! Woof! (Bursts into uncontrollable laughter)

- An Art Director explaining a storyboard to a client during a late night presentation. Turns out, he just came from a party and he’s smoked 3 joints. Yup, he’s stoned.

The (M)Adman Diaries Part II: Overzealous AEs

2007-01-18T03:26:00.000+08:00

The following story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, yada-yada-yakity-yak…

… the verbatims are all REAL, though.

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry it took me this long to follow up on my last entry. My migraine is gone. Thanks to my friend, and her wonderful, wonderful drug called “Exedrin”. I just took one pill and it hit me like an anvil.

I was going to take Wizard's advice and buy Imatrex but I forgot the name when I went to our pharmacist...

“Miss, do you have Ime--- Imi --- Imu --- (running out of vowels) Imo ---

“Imodium?”

She blurted out, loud enough so everybody in the room would know that I have diarrhea. I was gone faster than she can say LBM.

I hate it when they do that. I remember when I was still in college and I’d go to the drugstore to buy me some “protection”. I’d sneak into an empty void from a sea of sweaty customers, patiently waiting for a pharmacist to notice me and take my order. I never waved my hand to call their attention. I just waited. (Hey, I was only a student then, and I happen to be in a very conservative country, where talking about premature sex in public always raise an eyebrow or two. Ironically so since single parenthood statistics are going through the roof.) And when finally one of them pharmacist approaches, I make sure I whisper clearly, yet very discreetly, what I want to purchase. Almost always, the pharmacist would yell back to make sure they heard me right.

“AH… CONDOM!”

“ANONG FLAVOR?” (What Flavor?)

I shriveled in embarrassment and slowly retracted my footsteps. Could you imagine my grandma buying vaginal wash from the same pharmacist? Or my grandpa buying a box of Viagra?

Anyway, like I was saying, I finally got rid of that pesky menace called migraine. However, I have yet to find out the source. Who triggered my migraine and what did he or she do, better yet say that made me dizzy and nauseous?

I was done listing some unforgettable conversations with clients. I, however, felt that I have to give them the benefit of the doubt. What about our own? The same people who inhabit the place I work? Why not? I spend more time with them than I do with my clients.

Hmm… the witch hunt continues.

Could be it be our Account Executives?

Don’t get me wrong, Diary, AEs are such wonderful colleagues. They are, most of the time, very efficient, hardworking and resourceful. (I really have to say this because Blair Mitch, Gorgeous Noelle, and Celine - God forbid, she's a futsal player - might kick me in the balls). No, seriously, they're great AEs. And I have worked with a lot of good ones too. Some of them even carry a powerful, yet rare weapon in their arsenal – Beauty & Brains. However, in advertising as well as in life, there are some bad apples.

Take this AE, for instance:

AE: “I can’t see the website from my laptop, all I see is numbers.”

AD (Art Director): “What kind of numbers?”

AE: “I think it’s one of those HTML codes.”

AD: “Have you tried connecting to the Internet?”

AE: (Defensive) “You think I'm stupid? You think I don’t know that I need to connect to the internet before I can access the website??”

AD: “So, you’re connected. Can you read the message from the browser?”

AE: “What browser?”

AD: “Internet Explorer. Or Mozilla Firefox. The one you use to open a webpage!”

AE: “I’m using Microsoft Word…”

How ‘bout these guys:

“Wow, your web banner design looks great! Let’s print a copy to present to the client. Make sure it’s animated!”

“Woohoo! Guys! Good news! The client has agreed to shoot on a bigger budget! We have HIV!”
- Account Director, announcing that a TV spot would be filmed in HD (High Definition) Video.

“What a coincidence! I have the same sticker in my computer at home!”
(Account Executive to a copywriter, pointing at the newly-installed CPU in his desk. The sticker reads: Intel Inside)

“Please, I need the design for a circular sticker. Measures: 20 x 40 centimeters.”
(Agency, Account Executive)

“We need your help. According to what I understood from the client, we have to put subtitles on the radio spots. Is that doable?”

What about the AEs who have Arithmophobia (fear of numbers)?

AE: “Can you print the logo and send it to me?”

AD: “Sure thing. What size?”

AE: “As big as you can so we can use it for other assignments.”

AD: “8 X 10?”

AE: “Hmm… how about… 70 meters?”

Another incident:

AE: “If we do the poster 40 centimeters wide and the height in proportion, will it look awful?”

Media: “No, it would still be in proportion.”

AE: “OK. What if do it in 20 centimeters wide and the height in proportion?”

And yet another:

AD: “How do I layout the copy?”

AD: “Hmmm... just make it centered... to the left.”

These two however, deserve special honors:

AD #1:

AD: “We can’t use this painting for the print ad.”

AE: “Why not? We have money. We can buy the rights!”

AD: “Wha—you don’t understand! This painting is…”

AE: (Feeling smug) “Nonsense! I will contact the artist now! What’s his name?"

AD: (Nonchalant) "Vincent Van Gogh"

Silence. The AD waits for the Ae’s reaction. Instead, she picks up a notepad and writes.

AD: "Ok, I will call him now and get his approval."

AD #2 (during a pre-production for a print ad):

AD: “Ok. About this photo. Are we going to buy a royalty-free image from the web, or are we going to use a talent and shoot?” - The photo in question is that of a Dinosaur.

(Next post: The (M)Adman Diaries Part III: Crazy Creatives)

The (M)Adman Diaries Part I: Evul Clients

2007-01-12T01:23:00.000+08:00

(Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

However, the verbatims are all REAL.)

Dear Diary,

I was on leave today. Migraine – had it for the longest time. They say it’s a common disease for admen - people working in advertising - especially creatives. We deal with a lot of stress, that’s why.

I spent half the day catching some long-lost sleep. The other half, thinking what triggered my migraine besides the lack of it. Pardon my rambling; I’ve had four Advils already.

What could’ve caused it? Better yet, who? As I ponder and recall previous discussions with the people I deal with every single day at work, I began to wonder…

Could it be my clients?

Could it be the high-maintenance client who makes demands as if he owns our souls even though he only contributes to 1/1,116 of our billings?

“It’s just a minor revision. We’re just changing the copy and layout of the whole print ad. And, oh, the concept doesn’t fit so we might want to change that as well.”

Asked what exactly he wants and when he needs it, the humble client replied:

"It’s simple really: I want you to come up with something that’s never been done before; something that touches hearts and minds all around the world. Oh, and I need it by 11 tomorrow morning."

Could it also be the client who knows what he wants, so much that he wants everything present in his ads?

"We love option 1. It is by far the cleanest layout. We'd just like to add a little contact information. Just the call to action, website and 8 of our partners’ logos. You guys are the artists. Just do your thing to make sure it’s not too cluttered. I mean, hey, you really can’t read all that information in a billboard, can you?”

What about the client who can't make up his mind?

Account Exec: (yelling sarcastically) "Finally! The client has given us FINAL approval! He just asked if we could change one small thing. Woohoo!"

(From a client’s email):

“Please be reminded that we are selling a superior product. It is the best in the market. However, we can’t put this in print because we can’t prove it, and we don’t want the people to know that it’s not. So can you just say it’s superior without really saying superior?”

Could it be the unprofessional ones?

Client: (Raging) “You always send me the layouts too late. I will not approve them like this!”

Creative: “But we sent them at 2 pm…”

Client: “Yes, but I just got to the office at 6pm!”

Or worse, those that are just plain stupid?

(Dumbfounded) "You guys are giving me a hard time here. How on earth do you expect me to put the link on my desktop when you know I only have a laptop?"

(A telephone conversation:)

Client: “There’s a little spot on the HTML.”

Artist: “Where?”

Client: “Between the pictures and the description. I move around the little arrow and the spot stays there. Is it a mistake in the HTML code?”

Artist: “I don’t know about a spot, it’s very strange. Maybe your monitor is dirty?”

Client: (Pauses for a while, then shouted) “Oh, yes! Yes! You’re a genius!”

(During a client brief):

“Ok, here’s what the problem is. Our bank is losing many clients, especially the retired senior citizens. The main reason for this is their death. Our objective is simple: get those clients back.”

Worse, stupid clients who act smart or those who won’t admit they have any idea how advertising works:

“I asked for the photo in high resolution! I can’t work like this! A photo is in high resolution when I can’t see it in my computer!”

Client: “Can you change the word ‘exquisite’ on the ad? I personally think that any words including the letter X are way too complicated for our market to comprehend.”

Copywriter: (Sarcastically) "You mean like, axe... and sex?"

Silence

Client: "Just change the damn word!" (and leaves the room)

"This flyer is urgent! I don't know how you do it but just do it so it fits an envelope. Just like the one I'm holding now".

(Client to creative... on a phone conversation)

You see, dear diary, I’m at a lost as to what or who caused my migraine. To make it worse, clients are not the only smart people in the world of advertising. Sometimes, skull-cracking comments like the ones above are caused by the same people we work with. That’s right. People from advertising.

But I'll just save that for my next entry. It’s getting late and it’s time for my 5^th pill. I better hit the sack early as I still have to figure out what to do with those darn flyers.

Good night.

(Next post: The (M)Adman Diaries Part II: Account Executives)

Timeout for Thank Yous

2007-01-08T23:32:00.000+08:00

Greetings from the Kingdom of Midlandia.

I, in behalf of her Majesty the Queen, Crowned Prince Carlos and Princess Bianca wish to extend our most deepest gratitude to the good citizens of Bloggerville who have sent their most heartfelt felicitations on her Royal Highness Supreme’s 8^th birthday.

Ever the humble royal, the Princess took off her crown and majestic gown for one day and observed this momentous occasion with her family in the most intimate of gatherings. Hence, we celebrated this special day according to her desire.

This involved visiting a neighboring resort for an early morning dip in the pool, where the Princess exchanged a few laps with her brother, Prince Carlos, whom she always beat fair and square despite the fact that he’s a year and a half older. Queen Joy, ever the loving mother and wife, prepared a picnic of scrumptious sandwiches and lemon ice tea.

Come lunch time, it was my turn to delight the Princess with an exquisite dish. And so I toiled in the kitchen for more than 2 hours preparing her favorite Kaldereta recipe – a Filipino version of Beef Stew – and salad.

Not long after, the royal chamber became busy when the real celebration began to take place. Aunt Countess Chech arrived directly from a flight from Canada just to be with her niece on this special occasion. Aunt Princess Julie, though still sick from a slipped disk she suffered from playing Polo, grabbed her cane and joined the soiree. The royal grandsfolk were also present – The Old and Wise King Bert and of course, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. Then there are the children – a select few of the Princess’ loyal friends coming in from various kingdoms. Those who didn’t make it, like her grandmother Empress Rose, her aunt Dutchess Rozelle and uncle Duke Edzel of Georgia, USA sent their gifts and cheerful greetings.

Dinner was intimate yet special, as we had our feast of the regal barbecue, colonial fried chicken, majestic mango cake, ice cream supreme, and of course, the inevitable royal spaghetti. After dinner, the Princess opened her gifts. But the most wonderful surprise came when I ushered her in front of the imperial computer. Before opening the internet browser, I told her a story.

I told her that a true Princess is loved by many. That a real Princess touches the lives of not only the people around her, but also those who are living far, far away from her kingdom. I told her that a real Princess radiates beauty that spreads throughout continents. It breaks the barriers of time, distance, age, gender, and race.

And just when I thought I saw her forehead starting to wrinkle in confusion, we opened her last gift. There it laid, right before her eyes, a picture of a Princess with a lovely poem just below it. She began to read. I told her to scroll down and she did, until she stumbled upon something very familiar. Her photo! A Happy Birthday greeting with her name on it! I tried to read her expression. It was a mixture of shock and awe. And then, almost inevitably, she blurted, “That’s me!” I nodded. “I’m on the internet!” she added, calling on her brother. I told her to click on the comments below. Being older and having a louder voice, I asked Carlos to read the messages. What followed was a series of queries and surprises. First, she asked who these people are, why they know her name and why they know it’s her birthday. Then, after explaining to her how a real Princess is known to have many friends from around the world, she blurted, “I want to meet them!”

She inquired about The Wizard. Asking if she really is what she says she is, and I showed her the photos of her enchanting forest. She asked me about Dirk, a bit frightened of his photo at first, until I told him that he is a very gentle, kind man who’s expecting the birth of his own Prince. She asked me about DNR and why he’s wearing a skeleton mask when Halloween is already over. She asked me about all these fascinating people, and every time I come up with an answer, I smiled. Looking at my Princess and how obviously surprised she is with this little gift, I smiled.

Later at night, before she retired, she remembered. She asked me to print a copy for her to show in school. Lastly, she asked me to tell all these people, these wonderful, wonderful people thank you. Just then, knowing how 8 year-olds almost always prefer to receive than to give and forget to say thank you when the presence of a gift steals their attention, I felt glad. Knowing that somehow, I did something right.

And so, in behalf of her Majesty Queen Joy, Crowned Prince Carlos and Royal Highness Supreme Princess Bianca, I, humble King Russkal of Midlandia wish to say THANK YOU to the great, loving and caring citizens of Bloggerville for your support and participation in this noble endeavor.

Believe me when I say, we can’t thank you enough.

Timeout for A Princess

2007-01-07T03:12:00.000+08:00

I’m taking a time out with my Princess.

For 8 years ago today, she was born. Her name is Bianca, a sweet, noodle-haired bundle of joy. And this is her day. This is her time. This is her poem.

 Life is fleeting, years rush past....

and little girls grow up so fast.

Let me take time out to be

glad that mine's still here with me.

And though I'm busy through the day,

let me take time out to play...

Let me take time out to smile,

to linger with her for a while...

To invite her under the table for tea

and dress up silly as can be.

Let me take time out to sing

and dance and skip

and twirl and swing...

To splash in puddles when it rains

and make her fancy daisy chains.

Let me take time out to hear

about the things that she holds dear.

Let me tuck her in at night,

hear her prayers, turn off the light.

And for one more moment let me pray

and thank God that we shared this day.


Happy, happy birthday my sweet, sweet Princess!

Every little girl dreams of becoming a princess. My little Bianca is no exception. And today, with your help, I want to make her dream a reality.

Imagine the look in her eyes when she opens the comment box and reads all your majestic greetings! So, if you would, please send your wishes to Princess Bianca below.

Many thanks from the Kingdom of Midlandia.

Enjoy the silence

2007-01-05T00:54:00.000+08:00

Hush.

Don’t be scared. Sit still. Can you hear your heart beat?

Since the beginning of 2007, I have always felt this tingling sensation in my stomach. No, it’s not the kind of emotion caused by fluttering butterflies, nor the ones caused by nervousness and anticipation. Nor panic.

It’s the kind that hits you like a battering ram and leave you unconscious. Without caution. Without pain. Without any physical manifestation. None, other than…

Silence.

It’s unbearable, this feeling of lightness. To not utter a single word. To suddenly hear nothing but your heartbeat. And yet you allow it to happen. You don’t even consider to speak. You don’t even think. As Milan Kundera said, “When the heart speaks, the mind finds it indecent to object.”

Suddenly, everything’s clearer. Everything that I have ignored, wittingly or otherwise, are slowly revealing. Everything that have been right there in front of my eyes that I have failed to notice.

Breathe.

My sister has slipped disc. She acquired it 3 days before Christmas and she has spent the Holidays lying in the couch. Immobile from her waist down, she chose the couch than the bed because she doesn’t want to feel locked up in her room. My parents keep her company during bedtime by sleeping in a mattress in the living room. They have postponed countless party invitations, the annual reunion and spending Christmas Eve with my relatives because my sister couldn’t join. They spent New Year’s Eve locked up inside the house. She has been receiving therapy on a daily basis.

My dad has kidney stones. I personally rushed him to the ER twice in 2006 and the doctors gave him some kind of medication to cure his ailment. The problem with my dad is, like me, he’s not a big fan of medicines. He always say, he’ll get better, that the medicines are too expensive, or, if he runs out of excuses, he just tells us that he simply forgets. Right now, he’s taking up herbal medicines – a tea that’s suppose to melt the stones and rid him of whatever it is that’s bothering him. Up to know, we constantly remind him to drink it.

My mother has hypertension and all these problems aren’t helping her to relax and stay calm at all.

My wife had her share of health misfortune with a visit to the hospital’s emergency room during the first week of December. Thank God she’s ok now.

Amidst all these - health problems with my family, I managed to retain my cool. I am a busy man. A very busy man that have always shown support to his family during their times of need, at least whenever he can. Time is of the essence. I hate wasting time therefore I always make sure I do whatever I want, when I want. I got used to this pace that I have started living life like a race, leaving all the worries and troubles behind, in a blur, as I dashed into life like a mad man.

Inhale.

Now, in the calming presence of silence, I realized that I have buried my head into the sand. Like a coward, I have hidden what I truly feel, or felt about what my family is going through, and the support I have given them is not enough. I’ve always hidden behind my excuses that I have started to become indifferent. I have chosen not to notice these problems and carried on with my daily routines. I have chosen to live a carefree life. No worries. Everything’s going to be fine. I concentrated too much on pushing forward that I left so many things behind. In the process, I kept a safe distance. Away from all the trouble and pain. Away from harm.

Exhale.

The moment of silence has given me what I didn’t have, living a fast-paced, driven lifestyle. Clarity.

Thank God, it couldn’t have arrived at a better timing.

It’s the New Year. 2007. I have now survived 3 decades, and in 2 and a half months time, I will be enjoying the last year my age will be in the calendar. What better time to regain my focus. To stop and finally, smell the flowers. What better time to pause, take a breather and enjoy the silence.

It’s 2007. It’s going to be a great year. I know, as long as I take my time.

The Countdown Begins

2006-12-31T14:56:00.000+08:00

Tic-toc-tic-toc.

You have 9 hours.

It’s now Sunday, December 31, 2006 here in Manila. New Year’s Eve.

Kids are already throwing firecrackers in the street, dads are calculating how much they’re going to spend in fireworks, and moms are busy shopping for polka-dot clothes and ANY round fruit they can find.

No worries. It’s all good. Never mind that firecrackers are unsafe and a handful of people (mostly children) are rushed to the emergency room with mangled hands every year. Never mind that people are wasting a sizeable portion of their year’s earnings for fireworks that will only light up for a few seconds. Never mind the stress, the hassle, of scouring for 12 assorted round fruits in a crowded wet market. Never mind that you look like a clown on a polka-dot blouse. Nevrmind all the touble (except for the mangled hands. I always imply a no firecracker rule in my family). It’s New Year’s Day. It only happens once a year anyway.

Largely influenced by Chinese Feng Shui, Filipinos have a template for celebrating New Year. We light up firecrackers, honk our car horns, bang metal drums, pots and pans and make all kinds of noise (when all things above aren’t available, you can just scream at the top of your lungs) when the clock hits 12 to drive away evil spirits. We wear polka-dotted clothes and adorn our homes with anything round, hang grapes on our window sills, and create a centerpiece out of 12 assorted round fruits on the table (because “round” symbolizes coins or money) for prosperity. Some vertically-challenged people jump, hoping they’ll gain a few inches to their height in the coming year. Yes, even adults.

We do all this things, and a lot of other quirky practices, because even if we’re not Chinese, we are faithful. We are believers, not to be mistaken as gullible. Besides, like we always say, “Wala namang mawawala eh” (“There’s no harm in trying anyway”).

No harm indeed, except for the mangled limbs.

Ooops, 8 hours. Time to dig into the vault and look for my red polka-dot boxers.

Happy New Year, everyone! May 2007 bring you and your family PEACE, LOVE & PROSPERITY!

Here’s my

GIFT

to you. (Make sure your speakers are on)

Cheers!

My First Meme

2006-12-28T09:59:00.000+08:00

Rookie alert!

Ok. I don’t know how memes work. Hell, I even thought at first that it’s pronounced as me-me or mey-mey). Anyway, I saw this one from Pepper and it caught my interest. Needless to say, I asked her permission to copy it as a personal reference, and she said yes, and that I can post it so she can see what I have written in bold. So I’m posting it below. I don’t know if she has tagged me (what’s a tag anyway? How do you know if you’ve been tagged?), but it’s been fun to do. So here it is. Thanks, Pepper. Don't worry, I'm no elf-killer

Rules – copy the list and bold face the items you’ve done. Wait for some comments then answer the questions.

01. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
02. Swam with wild dolphins
03. Climbed a mountain
04. Driven anything over 100 MPH
05. Been inside the Great Pyramid
06. Held a tarantula
07. Taken a candlelit bath with someone
08. Said “I love you” and meant it
09. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise (I had a near death experience before when I got hospitalized for Hypokalemia. My whole body was paralyzed and I couldn’t breathe because of pneumonia, so I didn’t sleep, fearing that I won’t be able to wake up.)
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables (school project)
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne (I have amazingly low threshold on alcoholic drinks)
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse of the moon.
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run (school practice)
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer (still do)
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe
47. Taken a road-trip
48. Gone rock climbing (It ain’t that steep but hey, it sure is rocky).
49. Midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow and a goat too
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Played touch football
61. Gone scuba diving
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class (Arnis in college)
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie (a short documentary)
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days (Hospital food doesn’t count as food, ok?)
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an “expert”
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music (a demo for our rock band)
87. Eaten shark
88. Kissed on the first date
89. Gone to Thailand
90. Bought a house
91. Been in a combat zone
92. Buried one/both of your parents
93. Been on a cruise ship
94. Spoken more than one language fluently
95. Performed in Rocky Horror
96. Raised children (still raising)
97. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking (always)
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication (Manila Bulletin)
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Touched a stingray
110. Broken someone’s heart
111. Helped an animal give birth
112. Won money on a T.V. game show (consolation prize for The Quiz Bee, I was only 10 then)
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a facial part pierced other than your ears
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had major surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours (again, hospital)
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Touched a cockroach
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad
135. Selected one “important” author who you missed in school, and read
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (fish)
137. Skipped all your school reunions (never been to any)
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office (does school council count?)
140. Written your own computer language (basic HTML)
141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident
150. Saved someone’s life

It's over.

2006-12-26T00:35:00.000+08:00

It’s now 37 minutes past midnight here in Manila. December 26, 2006.

It’s official. Christmas is finally over. Gone. Kaput. The end.

The in-laws have left. And so did the pesky carolers. The rib eye steak, the waldorf salad and pasta carbonara are now a thing of the past along with the Fiesta ham and ube halaya (purple yam). By the time I’m writing this, all that’s left in the fridge are a half-empty bottle of Chiraz, some chocolate-chip cookies and Washington red apples. Thank God there’s no fruitcake.

And so it goes.

Another countdown begins. 364 days to go ‘till Christmas 2007. Time to shed off the extra calories gained and write the mandatory annual New Year’s resolutions. It’s also during this time that people begin pondering, “I wonder what’s waiting for me next year?” “Will I finally meet Mr. Right?” “Will I finally get my break?” “Can we survive?” “What to do with this damn fruitcake?” Questions that are often kept inside and are somehow, almost always, answered by well-wisher’s clichés. One friend even had the answer for everything with a single text message. It reads, “Merry Christmas! May you have a lot of food to eat, a prosperous career, a blooming love life, and a successful new year”. Well, almost everything except the fruitcake.

What lies ahead maybe uncertain, but it is with this uncertainty that life becomes a year-long challenge. Christmas may now be over, gone, along with the text barrage of well-wishers, friends and relatives spreading good tidings, Christmas trees, mistletoes and tinsels back into storage, but the prospect of waiting for 364 days before it’s here once again is proof that people have faith.

The faith that even if we don’t get what we want in the year 2007, even if Mr. Right doesn’t come along and job promotions doesn’t happen, even if we barely survived, there’s always 364 more days to look forward to. It’s human nature. We climb and fall. We leap. We hope. We wait.

For 364 days.

And so, to my friends and family and fellow bloggers, I hope you get what you want this Christmas and the coming New Year. In case you don’t, here’s a message from the bottom of my heart:

“Merry Christmas! May you have a lot of food to eat, a prosperous career, a blooming love life, and a successful new year!”

I still don’t have an answer to that fruitcake though.

Wow

2006-12-23T02:50:00.000+08:00

That’s all I can say. Wow.

It’s now officially less than 24 hours away before Christmas. That time of year. Where everyone’s jolly and merry and spreading good cheer. It never really hit me until now. Have I been working that hard?

Wow. It's been a week of rants and raves.

I rant.

I have been working like a sheep dog this past few days, been pulling overtime, chasing never-ending deadlines and trying to balance family life with daily brainstorming sessions and client presentations. The fact that it’s almost the holidays makes it even worse. Nonetheless, I have no choice. And so, I toiled, leaving behind two rascals with the Playstation during their holiday vacation, a spouse clamoring for a shopping chauffeur, and two toy poodles begging for a yuletide groom.

I have squeezed my brain of all its juice and worked my ass off. I have endured 3 hour sleeps and 3 hour travels. I have hustled, bustled and dazzled clients in looong presentations. All in the 2^rd week of December. I have undergone corporate apocalypse while most people fight their way to the last pair of jeans on a midnight sale. I have, lamentably and disappointingly, left the Midnight Oil flickering, burning slowly on its last flame. I never knew what to expect when I return. I, for sure, thought that it’s the end. But…

Wow.

I have worked hard and now I am reaping my rewards. And what wonderful rewards awaited me. What astounding accolades. What pride. What gratitude. What joy.

I rave.

A couple of days ago, one of the most prestigious award-giving bodies in the Philippine advertising industry proclaimed the winners of the 2006 Araw Values Award, awarding chosen local advertisements in print, radio and TV based on creativity, and the following cornerstone values:

Love of God and respect for religious beliefs.
Commitment to truth, honesty and justice.
Love of country and respect for national customs and traditions.
Reverence for family unity and the inviolability of marriage.
Respect and care for human life and dignity and the rights of all.
Respect for law and authority and the promotion of self-discipline.
Concern for and preservation of environment.

The criteria? 45% values message. 45% creative excellence, and 10% credibility.

I had 4 entries from my previous ad agency. All of which won.

Wow.

Winning a creative award is special. Bagging a Clio, Ney York Ad fest, One Show pencil or a Cannes Lions prove that you are up there, in the higher echelon of creative geniuses. Sure. But winning a Values award means that you are not only creative with your work, but you are also sending out a message of hope, truth, unity, respect and aim to uplift human morals and principles. You be the judge. Which one takes harder work?

My entries were mostly TV and radio ads. The client, Manila North Luzon Tollways Corporation, is a private developer of public highways and infrastructures. The project is the newly renovated North Luzon Expressway. I could tell you more about the project and bore you to death with the details but let’s just say that the ads promote road safety and responsbile driving, and show how a highway’s makeover can change the lives of the motorists, and give the country's economy a much needed lift.

And then, there’s another.

Fearing that my newly-found blogging friends got turned off by seeing the same post over and over every time they visit my blog, I recently visited my site with less expectation and more apprehension.

Alas, to my surprise, there are two things that are waiting for me. An invitation for an interview with Mirriam College students for their thesis – “Blogging in the Philippines”, and an award. You read it right, there’s another award. A recognition coming from the international blogging community. As I feared the worst, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Therein lay my reward, a shining trophy cast in gold – my first Eddie.

Mga kababayan (My fellow countrymen), this brown man has made his mark in the world blogging scene. You are now visiting, and reading the post of the recipient of this year’s Eddie Awards’ Rookie of the Year.

Wow.

I owe it to a lot of people. First, to my countrymen (if this the first time you're reading this blog, please refer to previous posts and comments about the Philippines. You'd understand why I'm not being sarcastic and cheesy), for making me who I am. And the Philippines - a beautiful, colorful country. If not for her, I could’ve been a bland, shallow-minded person. Everything I learned I owe to experience. Everything I write I get from observations. Everything I proclaim are mere facts, the truth. All I do is ad words.

I also owe it to my friends in the blogosphere. Both local and abroad. To my brother in law, the Aquariandog for inspiring me to create a blog of my own without the need of persuasion. For Blair Mitch, a jolly good colleague whose posts about food inspires me to eat well, drink well, and well, be merry. And to all my newfound brothers and sisters – I could never stress it enough – for believing in me, reading my sometimes senseless posts, and accepting me as part of their blogging family. That’s Dirk, Meander, Skeet, Kat, Kate, Schaumi, Smalltown rn, and many more. To my fellow awardees, Whim and The Wizard. Thank you also to The Nameless One, eventhough he never returned my comment on one of his posts. To Mr. Novak, a very funny writer. To Erica and Cinderella, whose posts are as beautiful as they are. And to all those I forgot to mention, just holla (did I just say holla?) so I can revise.

This award is for all of you. Once again, thank you for keeping The Midnight Oil burning.

I couldn’t wish for a better Christmas. Now, if I could only hang this trophy on my Christmas tree…

By the way, did I say WOW?

There's no place like home (revised)

2006-12-14T04:04:00.001+08:00

(Note: This post has been revised and updated. Changes and additions are written in italics.)

"Ok, Dorothy, just click those ruby slippers, follow your heart and say..."

Two days ago, I wrote about my fascination for snow and how I wished we have it here in our country so I could ski and make snow angels this Christmas. The post attracted a number of comments, most of which expressed appreciation for its candor and vivid descriptions of how we Filipinos celebrate the holiday season. Surprisingly, all of these comments were from people residing in the US.

In my 2 and a half months of blogging, I never thought nor imagined that my blog would be received by such a wide audience. And that a nurturing, open-minded host of diverse nationalities would adopt me as part of their blogging family.

For this, I am equally amused and flattered.

Let there be no mistake, I may be yearning for snow but I love being a Filipino. I am proud of the color of my skin and like Dorothy, I can say that there’s no place like home. There’s no place like the Philippine soil.

And so, it goes. I feel I have to do this. It is my responsibility – as a Filipino and as an adopted son to my blogging family, the only brown boy amidst white men and women - to tell you more about my beloved country.

If you really don’t care much about it, then stop reading. This post is not for you. But, if you are like me and a handful of people who would like to enrich their knowledge about different cultures, then by all means, carry on.

The Philippines is home to 7,1007 islands and some of nature’s greatest wonders. There’s the Rice Terraces, for instance, whom some tourists say, is the 8^th wonder of the world. Carved by the Ifugaos using only their bare hands hundreds of years ago, the terraces from the rocky mountain of Banaue is about 4,000 feet above the sea level. The total outline of this architectural wonder, otherwise known as the "stairways to the sky" is about 13,500 miles long, or about half the globe's circumference and ten times the length of the Great Wall of China.

We are also home to the world’s smallest volcano - Taal Volcano, a 406-meter-high crater, described as "a crater within an island within a lake" because it stands as an island at Taal Lake.

And, the world’s largest eagle -, the Philippine eagle. Not to mention some of the world’s finest beaches like Boracay, Palawan, and Siargao, and a host of other species you can only find in the country.

Filipinos are generally, happy people. We smile, even when we have problems. We laugh, even at times of crisis. We crack jokes about our own trials and tribulations. Where else can you find a TV coverage of a flashflood where children riding in make-shift bancas wave at the camera in delight, grabbing their 15 minutes of fame, while their house is sinking underwater? We make jokes about “Erap”, (deposed President Joseph Estrada) even if he is listed as the 10^th most corrupt leader in the world.

The Philippines is home to internationally-acclaimed talents. Here’s a list of famous celebrities who have Filipino blood running on their veins:

Theater: Lea Salonga, a Tony and Laurence Olivier awardee for her performance in Miss Saigon in Broadway.

Film: Dean Devlin (director/producer of Independence Day, Godzilla and The Patriot), Tia Carrere, Lou Diamond Philips, Phoebe Cates and Rob Schneider.

Music: Nicole Scherzinger (lead singer of Pussycat Dolls), Apl.de.ap of the Black Eyed Peas, Jasmine Trias (American Idol 3^rd placer), Mutya Buena of Sugababes and Jocelyn Enriquez, Julio Iglesias Jr. and Enrique Iglesias.

Here’s another music trivia – did you know that Latina-American pop star Christina Aguilera lost to Filipina vocalist Josephine Roberto aka Banig during the International Star Search years ago? In a mid-1999 MTV chat, she said that competing against someone of Banig's age was "not fair." Banig was a few years younger then than Christina. Hmmm…

Sports: Manny Pacquiao (who has beaten almost all of Mexico’s toughest warriors on the boxing ring including Erik “El Terible” Morales and Marco Antonio Barrera), Efren “The magician” ‘Bata’ Reyes (who has conquered the World 9 ball billiards championship so many times, he has become a living legend), bowling olympian Paeng Nepomuceno, and Eugene Torre, the first ever international Grandmaster from Asia who won at the Chess Olympiad in Nice, France in 1974

Speaking of movies, did you know that a lot of your favorite Hollywood films were shot in the Philippines? Among them are: Apocalypse Now, Platoon, Missing In Action, The year of living dangerously, Thirteen Days, Born on the 4^th of July, Brokedown Palace, An officer and a gentleman, and Hamburger Hill, among others.

Filipinos are a freedom-loving bunch. We were conquered, not once, not twice, but thrice! But our ancestors have always shown them that we Filipinos can really fight when our freedom is threatened.

First attempt was made by the Spaniards, led by no less than Ferdinand Magellan. It is also the reason why our country is called as such, as Magellan christened it after King Philip II of Spain. Unfortunately, it was also the last time he set foot on land, as brave Lapu-Lapu (a Filipino sultan or warrior) ended his life, also ending his circumnavigation of the globe.

The second was the Japanese, coinciding with World War 2. And the third, well, you guessed it right, the Americans. Though among the three, The Philippines lost on The Filipino-American Independence War from 1898 to 1902, and was colonized until 1946, when we regained our Independence.

It is in the Philippines where the first peaceful revolution began. The 1986 Edsa revolution is known worldwide as the first ever peaceful revolution. People fought soldiers, and blocked tanks using human barricades, holding hand in hand using only rosaries, flowers, and the power of prayer to oust the Marcos regime.

We are the first in Asia, to elect a female ruler. That's President Corazon Aquino, presiding the then fleeting Ferdinand Marcos. Right now, we have another female president in the presence of Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, who rose to power because of Edsa 2. That's right, folks, there was a sequel.

We invented some of the world’s greatest inventions. A Filipino, by the name of Eduardo San Juan, invented the moon buggy. That’s right, the one that Neil Armstrong and his crew used to land in the moon. We also invented the fluorescent lamp. Thomas Edison discovered the electric light bulb and the fluorescent lighting was thought up by Nikola Tesla. But the fluorescent lamp we use today was invented by Agapito Flores, a Filipino scientist. And of course, how can we forget Roberto Del Rosario? He, after all, is the inventor of the Karaoke Sing Along System. (See “Sing it like you mean it” post below).

Filipinos love food, period. We are, naturally hearty eaters. Aside from three square meals a day, we’ve snacks in between – meriendas at 9 am and 3 pm. And if we stay up late, we have midnight snacks as well. We cannot drink beer without “pulutan” or any food served. We are also fond of using condiments whenever we eat – there’s vinegar, “patis” or fish sauce, soy sauce, “bagoong” or shrimp paste, “Mang Tomas sarsa” or lechon gravy, and the likes. I myself cannot eat without patis, suka, toyo (soy sauce), seasoning and catsup near the dining table.

The Philippines is the third largest english-speaking nation, next to the US (of course) and the UK.

There you have it. Just a string of facts about us Filipinos and our beloved country. I’m sure there are a lot more out there that I am unaware of – side stories, heritage passed from one generation to the next, that I, nor the internet are fully unaware of. For now, however, this collection of info would do, so you could get to know us better.

“The world is a small place, and we are but tiny creatures roaming around, bumping along each other. Why then, don’t we introduce ourselves to one another?”

I hope you find this post even the slightest bit informative and entertaining.

Thank you all for reading.

Let It Snow

2006-12-12T01:51:00.000+08:00

I’m dreaming of a White Christmas, among other things. And my friends in the blogosphere aren’t helping at all.

Our country being a tropical one, we’ll probably think of Armageddon when even the tiniest flake of snow falls into our backyards. The closest thing I got to experiencing snow was when a local politician in the South rented a snow machine some years ago and turned an enclosed park into a snow field while charging a hundred bucks per head for entrance. I was only 12 then.

Needless to say, not having the chance to experience snow “for real” left me feeling deprived, thanks to Hollywood movies and pictures from friends and relatives in Canada and New York.

And then there were the Wizard, with her lovely abode somewhere in the woods, whose early morning wanderings involve catching a reindeer on photograph on a ground covered in ice, Meander pondering about going ice-skating and Dirk getting sick in the cold. Heck, the only place here where we can go ice-skating is in the malls.

On the other hand, living in a tropical island is not that dismal. We do get lovely tans during summer and most Americans who visit our country profess their love and envy with our tropical weather. I guess the grass will always be greener on the other side of the fence after all.

Also, we don’t get a lot of extreme natural calamities like tsunamis and twisters. There is, however, the Mt. Pinatubo volcanic eruption, homes and lives being wiped out because of super typhoons (we had one just last week, and unfortunately and untimely as it is, there were casualties. I know, it’s a very sad way to celebrate the Holidays) and the occasional flood. Ok, that’s an understatement. We do get flooded frequently, our place specifically since Google Earth describes our town as more than 30 feet below sea level.

So what’s a brown boy got to do to celebrate Christmas? We pray and give thanks. The Philippines being the purported bastion of Christianity in Asia, is comprised of a huge population of church-going people. We have what we call “simbang gabi” or Misa de Gallo (a term given by the Spanish conquistadors), where daily mass are held every daybreak (about 4 am) from the 16^th of December till Christmas eve. We also have the traditional “karolings” where every kid in town collects empty milk cans and flattened soda crowns to make instant drums and maracas, singing Christmas carols to every household in the neighborhood. And of course we have the yearly Noche Buena, the mandatory Christmas eve dinner where all families gather together in one place, reunite with long lost relatives, exchange gifts and have a feast while giving thanks, sans the fireplace of course. It may not be unique, but the spirit of Aguinaldo or hooking up with your ninongs and ninangs (godfathers and godmothers) to ask for blessings (by putting their hands in your forehead) in exchange of gifts, cash or kind, makes it very Pinoy.

Let there be no mistake, Christmas in the Philippines is very festive. It is one event that everybody prepares for and anticipate for 364 days, starting from December 26.

Then again, I want snow. Real snow. Not the ones you get out of a giant snow machine or cute snow globes. I want to make snow angels and create a snowman in my backyard. I want to wear mittens and bonnets and see the cold vapor coming out of my mouth every time I puff a smoke.

Is it too much a favor to ask for a little snow ball?

The blue pill, or the red pill?

2006-12-11T02:55:00.000+08:00

Where was I?

Oh right, back to fantasy. Suddenly, the blue pill’s potency has waned as I drag myself back into cyberspace. One minute I was partying in Zion (aka blogosphere) and the next thing I know, I was dragged into the mad frenzy called “reality”. Now why the hell did I follow that white rabbit?

Sorry for being MIA for the past few days. For the past week, I was stuck in a world full of Agent Smiths – evul clients clad in power clothes, demanding near-impossible deadlines and never-ending revisions. They hypontized me with their convoluted Power Point presentation. Never mind the sleepless nights, I rarely sleep anyway, but when you work 18 hour shifts, brainstorm while you take a bath and even while you sleep, you know the so-called “real world” is swallowing you whole. Thank heavens I was able to get out.

And for that, I would like to thank my good friends from Zion (also known as the “blogosphere”) – Morpheus and his army of gnomes, angels and fairies, the Oracle and his mink for chasing down the white rabbit, and Trinity for reminding me that I am being missed. Without all of you, I could’ve been stuck in the rabbit hole for good. Thanks guys, you were real troopers. See, I’m checking on all of you even if the evul agents kept me locked in a 5 X 5 cubicle.

Sigh. If I only have a choice, I wouldn’t take that damn red pill. Like they say, ignorance is bliss.

By the way, it's Trinity's birthday today. Be an angel and drop her a line, will you?

Midnight Merit

2006-12-02T01:42:00.000+08:00

"Jumping Jupiters, Batman. I never knew you write!"

"I don't numbnuts. You're talking about the other midnight creature."

"There's another?"

"Hmmm... goes by the name Russkal. Sly as Penguin. Mysterious as Riddler yet witty as Joker."

"Holy Hulahoops! What do we do now?"

"Loosen your leotards, Robin. He's an ally."

"Oh..."

--Silence--

"So you found a new sidekick then, huh? That it? That the reason why you're asking Alfred to make a shiny, new R patch? Does he put baby oil in your abs before you slip into that leather suit? Can he split? Huh? Can he ride the flying trapeze?"

"No. But he sure is funny."

"Freaking Frigging Funny my ass! That's it. I'm leaving!"

"Where you going?"

"The Chippendales are in town..."

Today marks The Midnight Oil's 2nd month anniversary. I initially invited midnight celebrities like Batman and Robin to write a post for this special occasion but they took a rain check for some reason. They did, however, sent a cake.

And though I am not particularly a "monthsary" celebrating chap, I offer this post, and this cake to my dear readers. See, I recently discovered thru my site meter that The Midnight Oil has lured a lot of midnight creatures - around the world at that! Now if only more people would comment... then again, that could be asking too much.

And so, to my readers in the US, Italy, Germany, France, and of course my countrymen, let me say Thank You. Molto Grazie. Vielen Dank. Merci Beaucoup. Maraming Salamat.

It means a lot coming from someone who used to be a non-believer of blogs.

Thank you for keeping The Midnight Oil burning.

Sing it like you mean it!

2006-11-30T19:32:00.000+08:00

I have a confession to make. I’m a videoke maniac. I, like millions of Filipinos now scattered all over the world, cannot fathom a month, a week, or even a day of not grabbing a microphone and belt a tune at the top of my lungs.

And why not? We are, after all the true inventor of the Karaoke, calling it the “sing-along machine” way before the Japs stole the idea and branded it with a nifty, catchy name.

And so, it is no secret that this midnight creature has been fantasizing about owning a Magic Mic for the longest time. For those of you who can’t relate, the Magic Mic is one of the Philippines’ most significant contributions to this planet of ours. An ingenious invention composed only of a microphone, a number of buttons on the interface, a microchip and an RCA cable. Plug it into the boob tube, turn it on, and voila! An instant portable sing alone machine you can bring anywhere there’s television. And electricity, of course.

Rock on with Bon Jovi’s Bed of Roses to your hearts content while a skimpily clad Rebecca Romijn emotes to the rhythm on the screen. Release all your inhibitions and do it “your way”. Just a warning though, the song “My Way” has claimed 12 lives so far since the Videoke machine (a vendo-like contraption where you drop 5 peso coins in exchange for a song of your choice - see photo below) was invented some years ago. According to the Philippine National Police, seven people had perished in the year 2003 alone from videoke related incidents. Most of them sang Frank Sinatra's famous ballad "My Way" before they got killed. Another proof that patience is a virtue, but hearing a drunk singing off key is always an exception.

After the song, check out how you fared with the chanting of the score. Dyan-dya-ra-ran-dyan-dyan-dyan….Dya-ra-raaaaannn!!! (Message on monitor:) Your score: 68. You are a lousy singer. And you deserve death by a strong whack in the head with a beer bottle.

You see, the Philippines is a music-loving nation. And here, more than any other place on earth, the way you carry a tune is a matter of life and death.

And so, the advent of Magic Mic is a welcome innovation to most. No longer do you have to go to hole-in-the-wall pubs and endure the stinking breath of philandering drunks that has seemed to stick to the microphone. No longer do you have to carry bulky coins in your pocket. The Magic Mic is plug and play, and you can sing, sing, sing at the comfort of your own abode without fear that the next person on the table is giving you an evil eye because you were hogging the mic for too long.

But there is one catch, though. Magic Mic can drain your pockets. To some, it even costs a fortune. The microphone alone costs 10-12 grand (that’s more than 200 dollars to my dear readers in the US), and the song chip is about 3 grand each or 60 dollars for 3,000 plus songs. Unfortunately, unless you’re a radio station DJ or some sort of a musical genius, you can only sing (as you are only familiar with) about 300 of them. Some songs in the chip are also in foreign languages. Chinese, Japanese, Korean, German, etc., songs that only C-3P0 would appreciate. Moreover, if you want a decent sounding videoke, you’d have to invest on an amplifier and speakers, or at the very least, a nice home theater system. Otherwise, you’d have to be content of the music (and your voice) coming out of the TV speakers.

Needless to say, the Magic Mic has its flaws, price and practicality being the foremost reasons why this blogger cum rockstar has dilly-dallied on his purchase. But alas! There is an answer! It seems that Ursulla, Goddess of voice have heard our prayers!

Trumphet sound… Drum roll... Say hello to the DVD Videoke player. For just 5,000 bucks, (a gift from our Fairy Godmother) you get a DVD/MP3/CDR/DVDR/MIDI/VCD player, two free microphones, a songbook and a Midi disk with 9,500 pre-loaded songs. That’s right, 9,500 frigging songs! And the list is up to date, too. Only a handful of Chinese and Korean tracks here and there. I’m actually in the process of highlighting the songs that I am familiar with and I was giddy to have marked almost 80% of the song list per page! The player I bought, Karavision, gives Magic Mic and all its competitors a run for their moolah. There are also other brands like Daewoo and Platinum but are more expensive and appropriate for commercial use. Commercial meaning restaurants who have transformed their venues into Videoke joints.

Right now, I am still astonished over this wonderful thingamabob. And believe me when I tell you there is not a day that passed that I never got a hold of that mic. Or at least the songbook as I still have to battle with the first song choice over the household.

Eat your heart out, Magic Mic. I’m singing my way to stardom with my new videoke system. And to my fellow future belters out there, let me know if you’re interested. I can give you a tip where to buy your own DVD videoke system that’s way cheaper than sold in malls and advertised in Ebay.

It ain’t over till the fat lady sings, folks. This rockstar is unstoppable. Today, the Philippines, tomorrow, the world!

Not bad for a writer

2006-11-26T04:17:00.000+08:00

I've officially changed the look of my blog.

It's amazing, this blogging thing. One minute I'm a techno-dummy and next thing I know, I'm a frigging web wizard. Oh... ok, I almost wiped out all the data on my template as I went berserk trying to put back my web counter. Can you blame me though? I've had like, 480 plus hits already, man. Now I'd have to start all over again! Or, I won't. Hmmm...

So how'd you like my new blog's look? It's no webby awardee (I still can't figure out how to mess with the damn background, I mean, heck, it still is a template) but like I said, it ain't bad for a copywriter's blog.

Ain't it?

Morons!

2006-11-19T15:49:00.000+08:00

Brainless. Dim-wits. Dumb ass. Imbeciles. Whatever you call them, there sure are plenty of them roamin’.

The following is a list of the stupidest crimes ever committed. Enjoy.

Power failure.

Karen Lee Joachimmi, 20, was arrested in Lake City, Florida for robbery of a Howard Johnson's motel. She was armed with only an electric chain saw, which was not plugged in.

Kentucky: Two men tried to pull the front off a cash machine by running a chain from the machine to the bumper of their pickup truck. Instead of pulling the front panel off the machine, though, they pulled the bumper off their truck. Scared, they left the scene and drove home. With the chain still attached to the machine. With their bumper still attached to the chain. With their vehicle's license plate still attached to the bumper.

Have a gas.

A gentleman awoke one cold morning and found that his car would not start; the problem was a frozen fuel line. No problem for Mr. Brilliant -- one need only warm up the gas, right? So he siphoned off the fuel, put it into a pot, took it into the kitchen and heated it up on the stove....

Lack of (sane) judgment.

Three guys decided, late one night, to rob a petrol station. Taking in baseball bats and knives they entered and demanded money from the station clerk. But they weren't aware of a couple of rather important things:

The clerk was an ex-Israeli.
The clerk was an ex-Isreali Army officer.
The clerk was an ex-Isreali unarmed-combat instructor.

Needless to say they ended up in hospital. For a long time. (No charges were pressed by the petrol station owner, and the police decided that there wasn't much point following through.)

45 year-old Amy Brasher was arrested in San Antonio, Texas, after a mechanic reported to police that 18 packages of marijuana were packed in the engine compartment of the car which she had brought to the mechanic for an oil change. According to police, Brasher later said that she didn't
realize that the mechanic would have to raise the hood to change the oil.

Wrong order.

The Ann Arbor News crime column reported that a man walked into a Burger King in Ypsilanti, Michigan at 7:50am, flashed a gun and demanded cash. The clerk turned him down because he said he couldn't open the cash register without a food order. When the man ordered onion rings, the clerk said they weren't available for breakfast. The man, frustrated, walked away.

Arizona: A company called "Guns For Hire" stages gunfights for Western movies, etc. One day, they received a call from a 47-year- old woman, who wanted to have her husband killed. She got 4-1/2 years in jail.

(A man walked into a Circle-K (a convenience store similar to a 7-11), put a $20 bill on the counter and asked for change. When the clerk opened the cash drawer, the man pulled a gun and asked for all the cash in the register, which the clerk promptly provided. The man took the cash from the clerk and fled -- leaving the $20 bill on the counter. The total amount of cash he got from the drawer? Fifteen dollars.

A robber in Panorama City, Cal., gave a teller a note saying, "I have a gun. Give me all your twenties in this envelope." The teller said, "All I've got is two twenties." The robber took them and left.

Not guilty.

The Belgium news agency Belga reported in November that a man suspected of robbing a jewelry store in Liege said he couldn't have done it because he was busy breaking into a school at the same time. Police then arrested him for breaking into the school.

Drug-possession defendant Christopher Johns, on trial in March in Pontiac, Michigan, said he had been searched without a warrant. The prosecutor said the officer didn't need a warrant because a "bulge" in Christopher's jacket could have been a gun. Nonsense, said Christopher, who happened to be wearing the same jacket that day in court. He handed it over so the judge could see it. The judge discovered a packet of cocaine in the pocket and laughed so hard he required a five-minute recess to compose himself.

Shit happens.

When a man attempted to siphon gasoline from a motor home parked on a Seattle street, he got much more than he bargained for. Police arrived at the scene to find an ill man curled up next to a motor home trying to steal gasoline and plugged his hose into the motor home's sewage tank by mistake. The owner of the vehicle declined to press charges, saying that it was the best laugh he'd ever had.

A woman was reporting her car as stolen, and mentioned that there was a car phone in it. The policeman taking the report called the phone and told the guy that answered that he had read the ad in the newspaper and wanted to buy the car. They arranged to meet, and the thief was arrested.

Not to be outdone, the Philippines has its share of dim-witted criminals. MANILA, May 25 — In a heist that sounded like the case of the fugitive hijacker D.B. Cooper, a crying man tried to commandeer a Philippine Airlines jet carrying 291 people then robbed everyone and jumped out of the plane wearing a homemade parachute. No one knows what happened to Cooper, who escaped by jumping out of a plane 29 years ago. But this man's fate is known: His body was found later in the day.

And finally in Portsmouth, R.I. Police charged Gregory Rosa, 25, with a string of vending machine robberies in January when he (1) fled from police inexplicably when they spotted him loitering around a vending machine and (2) later tried to post his $400 bail in coins.

Holly-Woody

2006-11-17T00:48:00.000+08:00

Some people just don’t get Woody. He’s the love him or hate him type. And while I don’t absolutely adore the bespectacled, stuttering filmmaker, I respect him for all his accomplishments and admire his body of work. The guy has won 3 Academy Awards after all.

And I must say, I am not alone.

The Comedian’s Comedian, a 3-hour program broadcast on UK named the top 50 comics of all time as voted by their peers and listed Woody Allen on the 3^rd spot. Not bad for a Hollywood filmmaker, considering that the list contained 33 Brits including 3 members of Monty Python. Besting Woody on the list was the legendary Peter Cook and Monty Python’s main man John Cleese.

Other famous comedians on the list are Groucho Marx (the man responsible for the fake huge nose and moustache) at no. 4, Laurel & Hardy at no. 7 (funny, I thought Hardy was funnier), Peter Sellers and Steve Martin (claiming 14^th and 15^th spot, respectively, the often imitated yet inimitable Charlie Chaplin at no. 18, Rowan Atkinson (Mr. Bean!) at no. 24, Robin Williams (no. 45), and Bill Cosby and Mike Myers at nos. 47 and 48. My only objection in this list is having Mel Brooks at no. 50 (the last spot) while Eddie Murphy sits comfortably at no. 32. What’s up with that, blokes?

Love him or hate him, the fact is, Woody Allen is a top-notch filmmaker. I just saw 3 of his films in a span of one week, the two for obvious reasons (that it has Scarlett Johansson in it) and the other one was because I read the back cover of the DVD and found the plot interesting. The movies were Match Point, Scoop, and Hollywood Ending. And no, I’m not doing reviews, but I have to say that Match Point is a worthy watch and Scoop is hilarious. So go grab a copy.

That is, if you like cerebral humor. Or extremely long dialogues. Or, at the very least, Scarlett Johansson.

What gives?

2006-11-07T14:26:00.000+08:00

Well i'll be damned.

Been posting for almost a month now and i just realized that my page doesn't display correctly on Internet Explorer (about me, links, previous posts and archives are flushed all the way down the bottom of the page, when it should be flushed right, aligned with the posts.) I haven't noticed since I've been using Mozilla Firefox as a default browser for the longest time, wherein my blog displays perfectly. Paranoid, I ran to check how it displays on Macs using the Safari browser. No problem.

So how now, brown cow will I fix this problem? Any suggestions? Would appreciate your comment if you know how I can fix this damn problem.

Merci.

43 Useless Facts

2006-11-06T03:33:00.000+08:00

don't say I didn't warn you...

1. Moths are unable to fly during an earthquake (told you this is useless)
2. Human saliva has a boiling point three times than that of regular water (see?)
3. Every Labrador retriever dreams about bananas
4. Contrary to popular belief, the white is not the healthiest part of an egg. It's actually the shell. (“Now go eat your egg shell, Timmy!” Scary.)
5. British pop singer Baby Spice is the great-great-great-great-great-great-grandniece of Archduke William Pinkley-Hogue of Standishfordshire, making her 103rd in line for the throne of England. (Now that’s scarier.)
6. Speaking of “Babies”, The top three names for female babies born in China last year were Huan Yue, Jia Li and -- unlikely as it seems -- Buffy.
7. Smearing a small amount of dog feces on an insect bite will relieve the itching and swelling (hindi ka nga nangangati, amoy jebs ka naman)
8. Catfish are the only animals that naturally have an ODD number of whiskers (totoo, sa susunod na kumain kayo sa Gerry’s Grill, bilangin niyo)
9. A cat's purr has the same romance-enhancing frequency as the voice of singer Barry White. (Meow!)
10. Speaking of cats, "Hello Kitty" began as part of a covert propaganda campaign originally proposed by Prime Minister Tojo during World War II.
11. In the weightlessness of space a frozen pea will explode if it comes in contact with Pepsi (need I remind you how useless these facts are?)
12. The rhesus monkey is the only animal that can be taught to hum a tune
13. Male rhesus monkeys often hang from tree branches by their amazing prehensile penises (now you know why they’re humming!)
14. If an average human scrotum were stretched until all its wrinkles were smoothed out, it could hold a basketball (Ouch)
15. Ancient Egyptians used molted cobra skins as condoms (again, ouch)
16. Winston Churchill was born with a third nipple, which he removed himself with nail-clippers at the age of 14 (Mega Ouuucccchhh!!!)
17. Ingesting small doses of ink over an extended period of time will change your eye color slightly. (Amazing, now you can save money on colored contacts!)
18. Fewer divorces occur in families in which the children wake their parents before 6 a.m. on Saturdays. (Un-fucking-believable)
19. A futuristic automobile designed by Ford for the movie Blade Runner was produced and sold in limited quantities as the "Ford Harrison." (umamin na kayo, kaninong copywriter sideline ito?)
20. John F. Kennedy was an accomplished ventriloquist
21. A prominent organization of anthropologists has predicted that by the year 5000, humans will have two rectums, but only one nostril (lemme guess, they’re gays)
22. Glamorous movie star Brad Pitt once had a summer job posting warning signs at coal mine entrances
23. Nearly three percent of the ice in Antarctic glaciers is penguin urine.
24. Contrary to their popular image as spinsters, the average librarian has 5.9 random sex partners per year (ikaw ba naman ang magbasa ng Kama Sutra araw-araw, ewan ko na lang)
25. The trucking company Elvis Presley worked at as a young man was owned by Frank Sinatra
26. The only golf course on the island of Tonga has 15 holes, and there's no penalty if a monkey steals your golf ball (I bet it’s those darn rhesus!)
27. Replying more than 100 times to the same piece of spam e-mail will overwhelm the sender's system and interfere with their ability to send any more spam (bilib ako sa pasensiya niyo pag nagawa niyo ito)
28. The skin needed for elbow transplants must be taken from the scrotum of a cadaver (ok, enough of the scrotum facts!)
29. You can actually sharpen the blades on a pencil sharpener by wrapping your pencils in aluminum foil before inserting them.
30. Due to the angle at which the optic nerve enters the brain, staring at a blue surface during sex greatly increases the intensity of orgasms (uhm, honey, I’ve been thinking, I think our wall looks better in blue…)
31. Never hold your nose and cover your mouth when sneezing, as it can blow out your eyeballs.
32. If you part your hair on the right side, you were born to be carnivorous. If you part it on the left, your physical and psychological make-up is that of a vegetarian.
33. Although difficult, it's possible to start a fire by rapidly rubbing together two Cool Ranch Doritos (If only Tom Hanks had Dorritos in Cast Away…)
34. Due to the natural "momentum" of the ocean, saltwater fish cannot swim backwards.
35. In ancient Greece, children of wealthy families were dipped in olive oil at birth to keep them hairless throughout their lives.
36. The Venezuelan brown bat can detect and dodge individual raindrops in mid-flight, arriving safely back at his cave completely dry (uy, Matrix!)
37. Because of their unusual shape, Hershey's Kisses contain more calories per ounce than the same amount of chocolate in other forms.
38. If the air in your car's tires is not completely replaced every two years, it can turn to liquid and cause severe damage.
39. Blue water in a toilet bowl causes males to urinate 7 percent more
40. It is physically impossible to urinate and give blood at the same time
41. If you place a fresh Viagra tablet in a houseplant's soil every six months, the plant will not wilt (lupet)
42. Children conceived on airplanes never suffer from motion sickness.
43. The steady, rhythmic sound produced by dripping water increases the capacity for sleeping males to experience lucid sexual dreams (Oh, and hon, can we also buy those miniature fountains ...?)

Move over, David Blaine

2006-11-02T13:51:00.000+08:00

Here comes Dan Michael

...makes David Blaine look like an amateur

Better to burn out than to fade away

2006-10-25T23:29:00.000+08:00

The Forbes.com website listed Kurt Cobain as the highest-earning dead celebrity, with the late Nirvana frontman raking in 50 million dollars in the past year, pushing Elvis into second place after reigning “King” on the list since 2001. The website ranks 13 celebrities who are still raking in the big bucks six feet under, with a collective earning of 247 million dollars in the last year.

The grunge icon was found dead, shotgun wound to the head in his Seattle home in 1994, where a suicide note was also located. A part of his “alleged” suicide note is the phrase, “It is better to burn out than to fade away”.

Alleged, because after the “suicide” shocked the world and left millions of fans stunned, a string of investigations followed, including that of private investigator Tom Grant, concluding that Cobain did not commit suicide, but was rather murdered. The theory was later on supported by a book called “Who killed Kurt Cobain? The mysterious death of an icon” by Rolling Stones Investigative Journalism award winners, Max Wallace and Ian Halperin, published in 1998, and a second installment, “Love & Death, the murder of Kurt Cobain”.

Was it murder or suicide?

Buy the books or follow these links (including a case study manual by PI Tom Grant) and decide:

www.cobaincase.com

www.justiceforkurt.com

www.geocities.com/SunsetStrip/Venue/6582/Nirvana/suicidenote.html

The truth is, only Kurt knows. And if the words he “allegedly” left on his suicide note is any indication of his posthumous success, I’d say he’s right on target.

Topsy-turvy

2006-10-22T01:06:00.001+08:00

Left brain: "Why don't you make a Top 10 list?"

Right brain: "A Top what??"

LB: "You know, Top 10 movies, Top 10 books, Top 10 songs..."

RB: "I know what a Top 10 list is, dumb-ass, but why?"

LB: "Why not? Everybody loves making a list of their favorite things. Besides, it's entertaining to read"

RB: "That's the point! Everybody's doing it!!!"

LB: "So?"

RB: "So I'm not doing it!"

LB: "I get it. You want to be different..."

RB: "I am different!!!"

LB: "So what are you writing next?"

RB: "Ahm...about that... I haven't really figured..."

LB: "What about decoding Stephen Hawking's "A brief history of time?" You always say you want your posts to be informative"

RB: "Are you kidding? The book's too freaking convoluted, he had to write "A briefer history of time" just so people could easily grasp what he's saying!"

LB: "A movie review?"

RB: "Too time consuming"

LB: "A poem?"

RB: "Too cheesy"

LB: "A Top 10 list?"

RB: "What if I don't meet 10? What if there's just like, 6 or something?"

LB: "Round it up. There are Top 5's"

RB: "True. You really are good at math, aren't you?"

LB: "That's what we left brains are known for"

RB: "Hey! I have an idea! What if I don't call it a Top 10 list, y'know, give it another name so people will think it's unique?"

LB: "Very creative"

RB: "That way, I wouldn't worry about coming up with exactly 5 or 10... heck, I can write 131 things... or 37.5 if I want to!"

LB: "Brilliant! Besides, you're trying to be different..."

RB: "I am different!!!"

LB: "(and stupid...)"

RB: "Shut up..."

The Top 10 Advertising Campaigns of the 20th Century

1. Volkswagen, "Think Small" campaign by Doyle Dane Bernbach, 1959

2. Coca-Cola, "The pause that refreshes" by D'Arcy Co., 1929

3. Marlboro, The Marlboro Man by Leo Burnett Co., 1955

4. Nike, "Just do it" by Wieden & Kennedy, 1988

5. McDonald's, "You deserve a break today" by Needham, Harper & Steers, 1971

6. DeBeers, "A diamond is forever" by N.W. Ayer & Son, 1948

7. Absolut Vodka, The Absolut Bottle by TBWA, 1981

8. Miller Lite beer, "Tastes great, less filling", McCann-Erickson Worldwide, 1974

9. Clairol, Does she...or doesn't she?", Foote, Cone & Belding, 1957

10. Avis, "We try harder", Doyle Dane Bernbach, 1963

Time Space Warp

2006-10-15T02:23:00.000+08:00

“Está quente”.

“I’m sorry?”

It’s Portuguese for what you said. “It’s hot”.

Turning around, I came face to face to where the voice was coming from, and found a 5-foot-11 woman staring at me, applying sunscreen on her long arms. “I’m being attacked by a man-eating Amazon!” My imagination was shooting through the roof. The fact that she was scantily clad in gypsy clothing didn’t help. But her face was too gentle, too beautiful, and too charming to be hostile. In fact, she looked more like a contestant of Project Runway. I took a gulp out of the mineral water I was holding and rubbed my eyes. And then I remembered.

Standing there in the desert, looking to an endless horizon of sand and mirage, sweating profusely under the scorching heat of the sun, I remembered where I was.

I was in a shoot. A location shoot far from where I imagined. The sand on my feet were actually lahar, the location was actually in Zambales, and the woman standing beside me with a quizzical look on her face was actually Isabella, a Brazilian model we flew in for a commercial.

“You better rub this in your body or you will get burned”, Isabella said with a thick accent, offering me her sun block. I didn’t decline.

4 and a half hours ago I was waiting for the driver to arrive while playing Tiger Woods: PGA Tour 2007 on my Playstation. I didn’t sleep. It was 3 am and the van could be arriving any minute. It arrived after 30. 4 more hours of travel and I found myself chatting with a Brazilian bombshell beside a Bedouin camp in the middle of the desert. Surreal. But then again, that’s how it is in Advertising.

Isabella, as I found out, was really friendly. Heck, she nearly told me her whole life story. She told me she started modeling at the age of 12, have done a lot of commercials in Brazil, London and Germany, and that it’s her first time in Asia. She seemed to enjoy the sun. I can tell, because I was slowly backing off one step at a time under the shade of a make-shift Bedouin camp while she didn’t budge. Deep inside, I was fighting the urge to warn her of dehydration and skin cancer, but then I realized that it’s only a two-day shoot. Besides, if they can survive a lifetime of tropical heat in Brazil, they can surely survive 16 hours of heat wave, her gorgeously tanned skin assuring me that she can take it.

A couple of minutes later, the director, a middle-aged Brit yelled. Time to grind. Wearing a pith hat, he sort of looked like Indiana Jones, trading his trademark whip for a camera. He called out for the talents with her thick British accent. And just like that, a multitude of individuals clad in nomadic Arab attire came out of the tents. I looked on, and sensing the confusion in my eyes, the producer was quick to tell me where they are all from. There were 5 Americans, 4 Brazilians, 1 British and 1 Canadian. Half more are Fil-Ams. Great. I’m in Tra-la-la-land.

I got the chance to talk to them during breaks. As always, I brought my trusty digicam with me, making sure that I document everything especially a photo-op with Isabella and Daniella, both lovely Brazilian models. I wouldn’t mind being stuck in here with these gorgeous girls. But then the thought of my wife holding a pair of Havaianas flip-flops and threatening to slap my face with it knocked me off my daydream. “Brazilian pala ha? Eto’ng sa iyo!” The irony was painfully grimacing. Just taking photos, dear. Part of the job.

Overall, the shoot went well. It got even more surreal when half of the cast changed outfit from see-thru laces and beads to thick, Eskimo garb. What’s more, on day 2, the production crew covered the whole Bedouin camp with ice (or at least made it appear like it is). But I’m not surprised. Not anymore. I’ve endured the heat wave and besides, I am part of the team who wrote this commercial.

And so it ended. After 2 days of intense heat and rubbing elbows with cute foreigners, the shoot was packed up. Abruptly, actually as rain poured while we’re shooting the product shots. Night fell and we bid our multi-racial cast goodbye. Isabella is going back to Brazil in 2 months, Monica to the US in a few weeks and Daniella is flying to Hong Kong for another shoot in a month’s time. As for me, I’m going home. 4 hours of bumpy ride awaits. Back to reality. Another day has ended. Though I still curse the shoot’s schedule being on a weekend and the fact that I can’t take the next day off because of major deadlines, I sat in the van and try to catch some long-overdue sleep. I can’t wait to come home and download the photos I’ve taken. I can’t wait to post this entry on my blog. I can’t wait to publish the photos on my Multiply*

Above all things, however, the most important thing I can’t wait to do, is seeing my wife and kids.

*click on the “My Photos & Videos” link on the right for more photos.

Time's up!

2006-10-10T03:15:00.000+08:00

Been working on weekends, catching buses at 2 am, missing my bed.

In an effort to keep this blog updated, I’ve listed down some topics that I am planning to write and post when I finally have time to spare:

Advertising gurus – words of inspiration or otherwise from advertising legends Bernbach, Ogilvy, Burnett and modern-day favorites Droga and French.

Dissecting TVs medical genre – House, Gray’s Anatomy and Scrubs

The yellow brick road to Oz

48 hours of sun, sand, more sun, and lovely Brazilians

Adspeak – advertising lingo for the curious

Some titles may change without prior notice. See posters and print ads for details.

The Road to Damascus

2006-10-02T17:31:00.000+08:00

Never thought I would, but I’ve taken the Road to Damascus.

An idiomatic expression referring to a great and sudden change in a person’s ideas or beliefs, the Road to Damascus is not an easy path to take. For one thing, there’s pride.

See, I used to hate blogs. I despised every single page of it like pickles on my hotdog. I remember myself asking, what’s with these people writing daily entries about their daily lives, and worse, what makes people read them? When did journals become so public? Since when did diaries become open property? Besides, who the hell cares if you grew a wisdom tooth this morning, saw your crush in the lobby, and found out that Nick Lachey is now single? I’m sure your parents would, or your bestest bestest friends, or your posies, or homeys, or whatever it is you call them, but I don’t! Jeez, the crap that people come up with. On a daily basis, at that!

I tried. Believe me, I did. I tried to understand what these people are going through and discover what the fuss is all about by making my own blog. But it did not last long. One post and I had to delete it.

And then I chanced upon seeing others. Other blogs posted by other people who apparently has other things better to do than posting mundane things in their blogs. Theirs were unique, amusing, and yes, sometimes even educational. And then I realized that I have been misled. That the entries I was forcefully trying to swallow don’t represent the entire blogging community. There are, in fact, some entries that are worth reading. Thought –provoking. Stimulating.

And so I decided, I will make one. Again. This time, I will jump into the bandwagon and take my blindfold off. I decided to do it without pride or prejudice. Besides, sooner or later, I have to stop those people who kept bugging me to start blogging, and use my insomnia to be more productive. Alright, people. You win. I give in.

So to all loyal bloggers out there who have been offended by my callous remarks above, I apologize. I hope you find my posts worthy of your time. Call it poetic justice but I am now one of you guys. I hope you welcome me back like the prodigal son.

‘Nuff said. Let’s blog.

You're in advertising? Cool!

2006-10-01T23:37:00.000+08:00

Let’s set the record straight. In my 5 years of working in the industry, people have asked me what I do for a living. And every time I tell them that I work in advertising, they always have the same giddy remark. “Cool!”

So to all of you who think landing a job as a copywriter in a prestigious multinational advertising agency is pretty funky, you’re right. To those who think that it’s hip to write TV commercials, print ads and radio spots and then scream at the top of your lungs or in your head when there’s no one around (otherwise you’re a nutjob) “I did that!” every time you see your work on print, hear your ad on the radio or watch your commercial on the boob tube, once again, you are right. And to the curious individuals who presume that a career in advertising is financially rewarding, well, let’s just say you are not mistaken. But if you think that working in the creative department of an ad agency is all glamour, vanity, and hedonistic fun, well, I hate to spoil the party but you’re most definitely wrong missy.

Yeah it’s true that we get to play video games in our own workstations (see, in advertising, that’s what we call cubicles. Cool, huh?), get to surf porn and download mp3s for “inspiration” on our next ad, or get to work and exchange chit chats with famous celebrities during shootings and parties, but that’s just about the fun part. See, unlike boring routine jobs where you work in a cubicle for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week operating the same procedures, making the same calls, meeting the same people or filing the same reports over and over, we do get the chance to walk out of the office, eat free buffets during shoots and hobnob with a lot of people from all walks of life on a fairly “routine” basis. No offense meant, (lower your eyebrows now), my wife works in a bank, and those boring routine stuff is exactly what she complains about day in and day out. All I’m saying is unlike other jobs, ours is a little more flexible, a little more unpredictable, and a little more than the usual. But the thing is, it’s also a little more stressful. Now I’m being polite. Hell, it’s a lot more stressful! It’s true. I wouldn’t write it with an exclamation point if it’s not.

First of all, we have to deal with deadlines. Now, there’s a reason why they call it a “dead” line, simply put, it means that if you don’t reach it, you’re dead. There’s also the fact that we use the right side of the brain more than the left. Accountants, bankers and call center employees use most of their left brain for numbers, speech, and analysis, while we abuse the right. It’s a thinking job, where there’s no formula, no fixed rules nor complicated equations, just a lot of God-given talent and imagination. Some advertising gurus would even attest that advertising creatives are born, not made. You can’t learn to be creative. You have to have “it”, like a supermodel with an X Factor. And knowing that all it takes is to think, imagine, and draw a concept in your brain with a simple brief, a single line of an objective in mind, is like producing a rabbit out of an empty hat. It’s creating something out of nothing. It’s trying to sell an overpriced soap with no unique benefits and make it the preferred brand of mothers in the Philippines. And since we mentioned selling, let’s not forget that the role of an advertising creative doesn’t end with a brilliantly crafted tagline or an eye catching layout. You have to sell it, first, to your peers, then to the client for approval, and ultimately, to the market.

And then, there’s the working schedule. Time is flexible in advertising but only if there’s no “sabit” (that’s adspeak for a deadline). Wanna hunt for some DVDs in Makati Cinema Square after lunch? Go ahead. Want to go straight home after a 4 pm meeting with a client in Ortigas? Bring your bag already. Just make sure that you’re not leaving a deadline for granted. Heck, if you finish your sabit a day ahead and you have nothing to do the morning after, you can oversleep and come in before (or even after) lunch and no one would mind. But come crunch time, you have to be prepared. If the shoot is scheduled on a weekend, kiss your Saturday mall time with the kids goodbye because you’re coming to work. There are even times when we work 48 to 72 hours straight, getting only 3 to 4 hours nap in the office to re-fuel. Working that long, you have to wonder how we handle our love life. Not easy. In fact, I’ve seen to many people, heard too many cases of split-ups around the industry, and I can’t blame their partners. Whether we like it or not, we are married to our jobs, like doctors to his patients and lawyers to his cases. We are fated to miss birthdays, reunions and even Christmas Eves with the family if our jobs get in the way. My boss even jokes that we are worse than whores. At least they get paid more by the hour.

All those hitches aside, life in advertising can be really rewarding. You get to face new challenges on a daily basis, new demands, new barriers that were never there before. And overcoming these obstacles is very fulfilling. It’s what motivates you to push harder and dig deeper to outdo your last performance. Because, in advertising, you’re only as good as your last great ad. And speaking of great ads, there are award-giving bodies that recognize your work where you can create your mark in advertising history. Locally, there’s the Ad Congress or Araw Awards, Creative Guild, and Diwa Awards. And then there’s Cannes, Clio, New York Ad Fest or The One Show, to name a few – a host of international recognition given to the carefully selected few.

Sure, there are a lot of other jobs that are way cooler than advertising. Like that of Hugh Hefner’s or Ron Jeremy’s, or the game testers of Playstation 3. But for now, I cannot think of anything else I’d enjoy doing than copywriting. Ultimately, not long from now (I hope), I would like to move on to commercial filmmaking. Be the one to call the shots (literally and figuratively), and make my mark further in the industry.

So, is working in advertising cool, funky, phat or hip? Most definitely. Do I love my job? Absolutely. Should you join us? Maybe. But then again, wherever you are, always remember that the key to a successful career is not the financial reward, the car plan nor the cash incentives. The single most important thing is that you love what you’re doing. See, you could be a customer care representative, a car salesman, a bank manager or a bookkeeper, but at the end of the day, like all things in life, and however cheesy it may sound, love is all that matters.