Summer look

Summer's just around the corner. You can feel it when you go out of town. You have a feel of it when you do lunch outside the office. You can smell it when you're in a crowded place. And, the most divine of it all, you can take pleasure in it from the hundred and one ways you can plan your look.

This one here, which I culled from Out, tops my list on the look in my dreams this summer.



Let's go out and parade colors this summer.

It's how you say it

It’s one thing to be frank and honest and straightforward and true, but it’s entirely and absolutely different thing altogether to do it with prudence and good judgment. It’s what makes bluntness something that’s relished, candor a virtue. It's also what spells death to friendships.

So many people have become unsuspecting captive of this hazy idea that, in any conversation with friends or otherwise, what matters only is that you’re able to speak your mind, to get things out of your system, give your cents worth. I don’t know what’s with these people or how they were raised, but they for sure have misconstrued unfortunately the idea of frankness as if it’s a license to express one’s opinion with complete disregard for diplomacy or the faintest hint of being kind or having concern for other people.

I sure admire people who have opinions on things. I think that's very attractive. I admire them even more when they can eloquently put these into words. But my admiration ends when rudeness starts to creep in. I don't know if takes a special gift from heaven to notice it. Otherwise, in that case, I may have been generously gifted with it. I can be very good in spotting opinions that have heart to those that are just smooth talk.

Being honest is good, giving honest opinions is remarkable, but all these become useless if they don't have a soul. What makes them build friendships and encourage life is that they are shared with a genuine concern for the other person's welfare. It's not enough that one is able to say what's on one's mind. It should be said in a way that it builds rather than destroys.

A new sport

At the end of each year, I pre-occupy myself not heavily with new year's resolutions, but with deep and serious thinking about which new sport I should engage in for the coming year. It has been my personal motto to learn one new sport each year, perform really good at it, and enjoy myself in the process.

My search for one new sport every year has brought me to places near and far, to mountain summits high and low, rubber and wood flooring inside covered courts, and mostly good time always and in all ways.

For this year, I'm inclined to consider getting in one of these boats every weekend morning along Manila Bay. I joined a local dragonboat team last Saturday for my baptism of fire so to speak.




There are at least ten local dragonboat teams in Manila. Many of the teams have separate men and women line-ups. Some are school-based, others are units within the Armed Forces, and a large proportion are comprised mostly of free-spirited young professionals who are likewise engaged in other adventure or extreme sports. For instance, there are those who regularly join triathlon competitions or are affiliated with a local mountaineering club. It's good that around three friends from my mountaineering club are veterans in the new rowing team I am set to join. It makes things easier.

On weekend mornings, training call time is set around six in the morning. After a ten-minute stretching, loading starts at the bay near the Philippine Navy compound. One after another, a team loads a boat for around two-hours of rowing from the Manila Yacht Club area all the way to the US Embassy side, around two kilometers at least. Around four legs are usually completed before heading back to the dock.



It's a punishing sport, but it offers a tremendous sense of fulfillment. It's not one for those who are used to doing things on their own or, worse, who have the tendency to be inconsiderate of other people. It's a team sport, one that teaches putting team effort above personal comfort.

I hope I'll have a good time in the coming weekends. Since there's a competition in May, the training in the coming months may be rigid. It's too bad I will have to give up probably some of my out-of-town trips. I guess I can't have it all.

Younger for older

When I turned 26 many years ago, one of my friends asked me how it felt to be one. I quickly confessed, I felt very old and something made me feel I wasn’t in the market anymore. Somehow I felt I was ungraciously herded all of a sudden into this separate pack where looking at each other’s faces meant seeing lines and dry skin, gray hair and tired eyes. Worse, I couldn’t relate with nearly all of the songs played on radio, I don’t understand for gazzsake why some people even pass out when watching boy bands, I couldn’t grasp why classical listening stations at Tower Records always remain deserted. These grumblings concern only music. Now, multiply that with a hundred and one other affairs, it’s enough to make you reach for the nearest Valium bottle.

My friend asked me to move closer across from where he was at the coffee table to let me in on a secret. He said, getting older is actually a gift. The more that one gets older, the more that he actually becomes in the market, he added. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sipped some more caffeine. It didn’t sink in right away. It took another cup of coffee to nail it.

The number of younger men drawn towards men older than them is as diverse and countless as the reasons they hold. Trying to find out all of them is like attempting to drain the ocean. The effort may not just be futile, it may even be uncalled for. But for purposes of understanding life and relationship dynamics at the very least, it may be meaningful to try to come up even with just three answers to the question why older men seem to magnet the younger lot.

Three reasons seem to reverberate:
1. Younger men apparently savor the idea of maturity and wisdom that, they say, pervade older men.
2. Thinking that maturity and wisdom can be transmitted or acquired through relationships, hooking up with older men whom they assume to be abound with these, will make them mature and wisdomed faster.
2. Younger men think they are actually protecting themselves from hurt derived from potential misadventures when choosing a partner their age.

I will reserve my rebuttal next time.

Word diplomacy

I got this from Cynthia Oneal's advice column in the latest issue of Out. I thought I saw myself in Ms. Oneal's.

When people come up to me for my two-cents worth, I don't mince words most of the time. I call spade a spade, if you may. Just because you happen to be a longtime friend doesn't mean that I will coddle you or resort to deliver strings of white lies to cover your ass or say those things you expect to hear and make you feel better. Lest you mistake me for one stupid heartless bitch, I deliver my lines in such a way that they come out mindful of manners and diplomacy.

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Question: I am an 18-year-old gay boy. Currently I am in a relationship with someone and it’s been about 2-3 weeks. I have a problem though. I don’t really like being in relationships and I never have really been that wild about having a boyfriend. When I was younger and in my “straight” days, I never really dated, so I learned how to live without a girlfriend/boyfriend. Now it seems that there are a lot of people who are interested in dating me, but I’m not interested in dating them. I mean, I might get that infatuation stage for about 1-2 weeks if I find out someone likes me, but that’s it. With my current boyfriend, I just don’t seem to feel the same way about him that he feels for me. I like him, but he loves me. I think he’s taking things a little too serious and he wants a long relationship. I, on the other hand, like to have freedom to flirt and whatnot and thought that I would also like a “long” relationship. I am really worried about what to say to him. The bad part of this is that he’s quit drinking as much, doesn’t do cocaine anymore, and doesn’t smoke weed since he’s met me. I’m afraid that if I say that this is going too fast and that I’d like to take a break that he might do those things again, and I don’t want him to.

Answer: OK, let me say this. Loud and clear! You are not responsible for anyone’s drinking or cocaine use. That is their work and only their work. The fact that in the first flush of what for him is a romantic relationship he has stopped using means absolutely nothing. What are you going to do—spend the rest of your life with him pretending to feel things you don’t feel so that he won’t pick up again? I don’t think so! What you are responsible for is telling your truth. You need to be as honest with him (and everyone else) about who you are and what you want as you have been with me. Your life is your business—his life is his.

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For a similar question thrown at me, this is likely how I will answer too. Is there another way?

Balentayms

Over dinner last night, I pleaded my sister and the househelp not to wear red, anything red, today. Otherwise, I may not be able to control myself I will head to the bedside drawer for the gun and shoot them. I didn’t want to be the first case recorded ever on police blotters and psychiatric journals of carrying so much rage on a certain color it actually led to homicide. It’s not flattering.

I woke up today in pleasant mood. No one in the house wore red. The only red item before me on the dining table was the tomato ketchup served alongside the ham omelette I had for breakfast.

Hook and dump

One of my friends who's a lifestyle editor in a leading national broadsheet circulated a survey among his friends to come up with a tongue-in-cheek responses to the question "50 ways to hook a lover and 50 ways to dump a lover." I'm not one used to answering surveys like that, but I nevertheless tried my hand. Here's what I got.

To HOOK a lover
1. Polish your english. Nobody likes somebody who can't even order parmigiana in the restaurant.
2. Get into a sport. Get those flabs to be fab.
3. Learn to cook. There's some truth to what mom said, men are seized through their stomach.
4. Do volunteer work. Aside from his stomach, the way to a man's heart is through a display of sincere kindness of heart.
5. Together visit a feng shui master who will declare that you will make a great couple till kingdom come. Of course, the visit has been pre-arranged and you have "coerced" the master into the dialogue.
6. Burn all his favorite love songs in a CD and surprise him with it. While you're at it, why don't you just burn him CD's also when he does treadmill, reads a bedside book, vacuums the bedroom, or starts a foreplay.
7. Learn the basics of shiatsu. There's always another way to get your hands all over him.
8. Memorize a sonnet and recite it to him.
9. Laugh (okay, okay at least feign a sincere one) at his jokes. That tickles him.
10. Perfect the art of blowjob. That way, you hold him really in his balls.


To DUMP a lover
1. Get him to decide to maintain distance from you on his own. You can do this by always belting the killer song "My Way" all the time. Not just when you're inside a public karaoke place, but even in the car or inside the bath.
2. Refuse to hold his hands. Or be anywhere nearer than one-foot beside him. You say you have developed a newly-discovered allergy that forbids the slightest skin contact.
3. Train yourself to be on a seizure attack everytime he asks you out. That way, you're not forced to confirm or agree on anything. If your acting skills are way advanced, make sure the attacks lasts at least five minutes so you scare the hell out him and make him vanish.
4. Start an annoying hobby. You can begin by collecting human skulls, dead cats, witchcraft books, black candles or even dead fetus. A boyfriend scampering to the door is guaranteed.
5. Teach your parrot to mimic your boyfriend's irritating mannerisms. Don't forget to find a way to teach the bird to do that only when the boyfriend visits. Otherwise, you might lose your mind.
6. Put to a good use the only movie dialogue you have committed to memory. Shout "you are nothing but a second rate, trying hard copycat" everytime you end a phone conversation.
7. Make fun of his name. Tell him you just finished reading a book where his name referred to maggots of the lowliest order.
8. Always call him by your one of your ex's name. Better yet, call him using the term of endearment you used to call your immediate ex.
9. Tell him you had a dream last night. God asked you to cut your ties with everyone, except your family, and that you're heeding the order. It is best to deliver those lines as soon as you wake up to be convincing --- complete with a trembling voice and Gregorian Chant CD playing in the background.
10. With a stoic face, deliver the classic five-word parting shot: I am better off without you. Then immediately leave.

Love in the mountains

At 21, Ka Jose (right) is about 33 years younger than his partner, Ka Andres.


This photo made my day today. It didn't make me want to leave my city job right away and head to the hills to become a cadre, but it was enough for me to manage a warm smile, think fondly of our revolutionary brothers, and turn me into my hopeless romantic self even as I write now.

Let me congratulate first Ka Andres and Ka Jose who exchanged their vows as married couple in a ceremony last February 4 before friends and comrades right deep in the hinterlands of Compostella Valley in southern Philippines. The marriage holds the distinction of being the “first homosexual couple in the New People’s Army who were wed by the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP).”

A sequined CPP flag took the place of the usual veil. It was held in place by a beaded cord which surrounded, not just the couple, but the comrade-witnesses to symbolize the support of comrade community to make their marriage strong. Instead of the customary unity candle that couples set alight, Ka Andres and Ka Jose each held a bullet to “represent their commitment to the armed struggle.” Like all weddings that we have grown accustomed to, love songs (albeit revolutionary) were sung. And although I’m not sure if there were marriage contracts where signatures were put on, the wedding was nevertheless sealed with a kiss.

There is something very poignant about the marriage. I feel elated and affirmed; at the same time, frustrated and a bit disillusioned. My mixed feelings has nothing to do with being resentful or unsupportive of marriage or the decision to get married. In fact, I have nothing but great admiration for the courage and love shown. I long for the day when each one is gifted immensely with such bravery that declarations of love from devoted couples render us oblivious to the mindless posturings of traditions and the Church.

Firstly, I feel sad that the government as well as the Church are not as progressive and bold in their marriage and family mindsets as the CPP. Lifetimes after lifetimes have passed and yet the government and the Church have yet to go past their archaic definitions of love and marriage and family. I have continuously rebuked the equation that family = father + mother + son + daughter + the dog, and instead challenge (the equation) to expand the definition into mature ideas regardless of how revolutionary they may be. To drive home my point, I will have no problem accepting a single mom and her kid to be a complete family in the same way that I will graciously consider two men (or two women for that matter) raising a child to be full families. On the other hand, the revolutionary CPP has only taken them ten years today to witness their first gay marriage from the time gay rights were first discussed in their movement in early 1995.

I'd like to end this with something positive. I will probably never meet the couple, but that shouldn't stop me from affirming them and their love story. I have taken enormous encouragement from the fact that their story upheld something that have always warmed my heart: that love isn't measured by age or background or company kept, but is nourished instead by respect, trust, and warm affections.

How to fight

When people ask me how do I fight while in a relationship, they always seem to expect me to spew out an unparalleled list of a thousand and one ways, not just to cuss, but to perfectly ignore somebody without really trying, how to impressively hurl glasses across the room, how to rip and shred vacation pictures flawlessly, how to leap into a one-night stand immaculately, or even how to be dead to the world and manage to sleep for a week. It’s funny how some almost always dwell on the extremes and picture people so unglamorously. It’s unthinkable, something that’s truly unflattering. They think that fighting always has to be bring us back to the times of gladiators and, worse, primates.

Looking back, I am proud to say that I never really figured in a fight with any of the three relationships I’ve had. No, it’s not that I’m afraid to fight or even anxious to confront irritations with my partner. It’s not that. In fact, there have been a few times we got annoyed with each other. The thing is, they have never really got blown into a major boxing match. We’ve always managed to talk things over and continue to enjoy life.

The reason is simple. To start with, I’ve been blessed with really good partners. They are all mature, peace-loving, warm-hearted, happy people. I’m really lucky in that sense. But more that this, I make sure certain things are not neglected. First of all, at the start of my relationships, I invite my partner to make a vow with me --- that, when we fight or when things are not going well with us, separation will never be considered the first option. I find this to be very practical and sensible. It motivates us to really work things out and not thrust us into a wait-and-see attitude or, worse, to just watch the other person vanish. The vow gives our feelings security, a sense of commitment, one that reminds that we’re in this not just for the fun.

Another thing I have found to be very wise and prudent move is for partners to willfully agree on how to fight. I try to initiate conversations on this subject during the “good times,” when everything is light and bubbly and Cali Shandy. The conversation aims to leave us with ideas on how to behave and conduct ourselves in times of war. J They don’t have to be so profound and overpowering. Most of the time, they are modest and straightforward agreements. For example, in my case, I always insist that we should be issue-oriented as much as possible. Past mistakes and oversights should never be brought to life again otherwise we’d trap ourselves in an unending argument. There should also never be physical violence. In no case shall the tip of our fingers land on the other’s cheeks or any other part. A calm and empathic listening is almost always just what’s needed. I also insist that, whenever practicable, we refrain from involving our friends and other people.

Meanwhile, for those who are interested in some tidbits of do’s and don’ts on how to fight, here’s what I found from a guidebook by Ken Hanes. I hope we all keep these in mind whenever the inevitable happens.

· Count to ten before you start.
· Stick to the issue.
· Don't dredge up ancient history.
· Avoid put-downs and name-calling.
· Nix the sarcasm and camp.
· Speak your mind, and give him the chance to speak, too.
· Avoid profanity.
· Don't throw anything.
· No violence. Ever.
· Don't change the subject.
· Don't pretend you don't understand what he's saying.
· Don't mimic him.
· Don't bully him.
· Assume nothing.
· Don't ask your friends to take sides.
· Don't hit below the belt.
· Be specific about your complaints.
· Don't threaten to leave him to get your way unless you truly mean it.
· An unfinished fight will only return another day. Fight to the finish unless you're merely fighting for fighting's sake, Then, stop.

A sequel

I wrote my parents that letter not to bring them shame or cause them frustration the rest of their lives. That was farthest from my mind. I endured countless hours of anguish and pain putting together that letter to save myself from living in a perpetual lie. I wanted to be honest with them, I yearned to be close with them, and I longed to free myself.

The letter was long overdue. The truth of the matter was, my memory fails me now trying to remember how far back in time had I tried composing a letter or how many attempts I have undertaken all in all. It must have been a thousand already. But the more I tried writing one, the quicker I would be swayed from going any further because I didn’t want to cause unnecessary harm and discomfort, not so much on my part but for them. I have hesitantly agreed to let things be the way they have always been so as not to trigger any unpleasant confrontations or set off my parents to suddenly become mute.

For the next several years, I blinded myself to believe that this was the most practical thing for me to do --- keep silent on the subject, don’t cause needless harm, do “normal” things, stay out of trouble, be as inconspicuous and unnoticeable as possible. I have been good at keeping things quiet and even perfected the art of feigning my real self. It troubled me doing that, but it was the only way I can keep those around me. It was horrible. I cannot imagine giving almost all of my life keeping alive one lie after another. I have grown tired living as somebody I am not. I refuse to deny myself of the joys of being free. I wanted my parents and other people close to me to stop being entertained by an illusion.

And so, several days before my mom was set to fly back last year to the States where she now lives with my dad, a strong feeling came suddenly burning in me. I thought maybe it was time for me to do the letter. I thought maybe the three years that they have lived there somehow opened their minds a bit to things. I don’t know what made me think that way, but I convinced myself that that was likely, a risk worth taking, something that was more practicable than anything.

I think the risk paid off. Although it’s not really something we talk about lengthily over the phone when they call, we have become comfortable joking with each other on many things. We don’t feel awkward on long pauses and momentary silences anymore. And most of all, the words “I love you” have acquired more meaning.


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I just thought, maybe one or two young readers may find their way here in my blog and, like me, have always planned on writing that letter. Here are some helpful ideas.