MTV Killed Radio...NOT!

So it seems that Max did come over last week for the Mobbed thing they did down in Boracay. Some comments about Max: he's either a total headcase or surprisingly unassuming. Too bad I wasn't there to see for myself. Oh well, I'm sure they'll have a TV special of that event soon or atleast they'll use footage from it for the VJ segments in between videos. See? I know my MTV!

I've been listening to the radio these past few days just to try and catch up on new music. When I was younger (like 12 or 13), I listened to a lot of radio—

Just got off the phone with The Boss looking for Mike, our supervisor, who's out of the office. What in the world is he calling at this time of the night for? He's somewhere in North America and should be asleep. His voice sounded stuffy. Spring allergy season I s'pose.

Going back to what I was saying before getting interrupted, FM radio was my constant companion back then. I knew all the stations and what type of music they played, knew all the commercials and promos they ran, knew the DJs' radio names and program scheds. It's all you can do when you have no place else to go during school breaks. That's why if you ask me stuff about 90s pop music, I'm pretty confident I can give you an accurate answer.

Also, MTV did not have an Asian cable channel until '92 so you can imagine the hold radio had on the youth as far as music was concerned. I mean kids still recorded songs off the radio back then, DJ talking over the ends and all, which was particularly annoying.

So how has Manila FM radio changed since New Kids On The Block? Well, for one thing, there's too many commercials. Requests hardly get played but noted down. This is because songs are scheduled and certain stations will only play a song once every shift which normally run between 3 to 4 hours. Your requests are tallied and become figures.

Another thing is SMS. Mobile service providers continue to milk the public through whatever is the current rave in the streets. They have texting contests about everything—a soap opera's ending, which girl used a certain shampoo, even a woman's sexiness factor. So goes with radio feedback. "Text in your vote" are the four words you'll hear ad nauseum over the airwaves.

Thank goodness for the music remains. Below is a list of songs I am loving at the moment and hearing them over the radio makes them more therapeutic in a way.

• Afterglow by INXS
• DaniCalifornia by Red Hot Chilli Peppers
• The Hardest Part by Coldplay
• King Without a Crown by Matisyahu
• Walk Away by Kelly Clarkson (!)

U2 ::: One Out of Four Don't Cut It

Rolling Stone magazine's 1000th issue is out with a Sgt. Pepper cover. I've been trying to make out as many names as I can from this jpeg posted on their site but they didn't post a bigger one.

So it's good that Bono's up front—but why only Bono when all four Beatles take centerstage?

OK. Maybe U2 aren't as revered as their British brothers but a band is a band. (Run, DMC, and Jam Master Jay? All there.) Then again, Bill Clinton is also in that crowd over there which tells me the cover isn't really about music...which means RS is honoring Bono the celebrity instead of him being one-fourth of the biggest band in the world right now. I can't suspect enough.

So who all can I recognize there? Aretha, Mick Jagger, Dylan, Chuck Berry, Hendrix, Elvis, Madonna, Springsteen, BONO, Clinton, Billy Joe Armstrong, Bowie, Eminem, Ali, Michael Jackson, 50 Cent, Bob Marley, Jerry Seinfeld, Neil Young, Tupac, Simon & Garfunkel, Clint Eastwood, Nelson Mandela, Run DMC, Axl Rose, Elton John, Sting, Ronald Reagan, Kenny from South Park, Bart Simpson, Pamela Anderson, and Stevie Wonder. The rest I will have to figure out whenever I manage to get a hold of the actual thing.

When Bono turns 46 next week, my parents will be married 29 years and I will mark my sixth month with my current employer. I don't know what goes with becoming "regularized" in this company except some insignificant pay raise and the opportunity to wear a stinkin' office uniform. Yay. Oh, what the heck? I could use the money for my trip to Jeddah...whenever that will be.

Humbug.

Journalism is a science, not a form of art. Why do I say that? Because art knows no deadlines while quality will always be compromised in the name of journalism.

I got me a ribbing from my boss today because I failed to turn in a speech I was supposed to write for the company's top dawg. The job was assigned to me early yesterday morning and was due last night...except I wasn't told that last important bit of info until I got home later that same evening.

It wasn't her only problem with me. She also said it takes me too long to finish a column feed whereas she was doing two in a day before we came along.

Of course, that was all a load of crap, not all was necessarily true. You who are reading this might, not surprisingly, say I'm being biased but, in my defense, I wasn't told everything I needed to know. To top it all off, I still (after nearly six months in the company) have yet to be provided my own workstation. So in order for me to produce my output, I have to scour the whole office and look for someone who's not using their computer, which is pretty difficult when everyone who was given one uses theirs the whole time.

I really think it was unfair for her to say that especially how I've made a lot of sacrifices on the job that I never speak of. Like the time I freakin' went on a walking tour of Paco (some areas of which were so poorly lit even muggers wouldn't dare hang about) looking for an address she herself had no idea where. And when I did find the house, it turns out I was supposed to bring something there when she only told me to go there! They didn't hear nothing from me when I had to go back to the office to get the thing I needed to bring to the wretched address.

What's my age again?

Heh! I just realized my profile shows my birthday as 01-01-1900! No wonder I feel so cranky. Kidding.

It's a Tuesday afternoon and Manila Bay is looking oh so pleasant. Crystal clear blue is what I can describe it as. Those guys out in their yachts right now must be having a perfect post-lunch siesta. One day, mateys, one day...

Hopefully, my cold will be completely gone by tomorrow so I can sit out by the Baywalk and watch people fishing. That's one thing I've been wanting to do for the last six months.

OK, that's all I have for today. Hasta maniana!

Yo Tambien!

You know I tried but I can't help myself. A writer will always write anywhere and everywhere.

So what the heck am I doing here blogging on the MTV site? I got my own private blog safely tucked in cyberspace (there's a word that lost its spikes) anyway, don't I?

Well, it's because Max is cute and he talked me into doing this. What a lame excuse. Believe me, I am the last person to be egged into anything just because of a cute guy...but, VJ Max, if you're reading this, I think you're something else. Woohoo! (huh?)

Of course, Colby is still numero uno.

OK. I haven't been able to catch Episode 3 of this show yet. Heck, I don't know if there's even one. It's just that MTV Philippines has screwy scheduling that it seems they air programs on a whim with no regard for audience availability or however the media pokes call it.

Update: Mobbed is on at Wednesday mornings at 9.50 (!?) Did I say screwy? I only meant retarded.

RIGHT BRAIN ::: Not Now

Manila Bay has been nothing short of visually stunning these past few weeks and mainly due to clear blue skies of "summer".

No, the Philippines doesn't have summer because if there were then there should be autumn (which I long to see) and the rest of them seasons. However, for the millions who don't know squat about the Philippines, this part of the year is when the temperature reaches punitive levels so might as well call it "summer", right?

Anyway, at midday—when it's insane to walk outside in that heat—is when the water becomes dark blue and you'll see yachts heading out to the horizon, foamy white wake and all. It just dawns on you how God knew where to place things.

Moving on to other developments. I spent the whole weekend blowing my nose and napping. Yep, I had the flu, the perennially untimely sickness. You know, I could have had it on a weekday. Why didn't it take me down on a Tuesday or Wednesday? Why did it have to spoil the only two days where I'm not rushing to be somewhere.

The lack of photos to share is what makes writing about hometown stuff uninteresting. That plus the fact that I suck at description, which means a career writing romance novels will never get off the ground for me.

FLAK ::: You Bettah Reckon

"When I originally wrote the very first draft of the script I visualized a lot of what I was writing (location wise) because I had spent some time in Cavite when I was a kid."

Such is how Neill Dela Llana explains the title of the indie movie he and Ian Gamazon have made; an indie film currently kicking lard ass out west. In virtually every film festival it has participated in, reviews have showered the two guys behind the movie with all kinds of praises even saying how they're the team to look out for in the coming years.

Personally, my ritual response is to stop, look, acknowledge the achievement, and move on. But I have a problem with this one. Check out the synopsis from the official site:

In the town of Cavite, Philippines, people will do just about anything to survive. This is the harsh reality for many Filipinos living in a poverty stricken nation.

What an asenine way to present your story--apart from clumsily using "Cavite" as the title just because you spent part of your childhood here and your knowledge of Philippine geography is limited to that of a fruitfly. Using Cavite as the backdrop to symbolize the struggle for survival in the Philippines is like using a bowling ball for soccer. Yeah, sure, there are squatters found in certain places here but that is more incidental than anything.

The truth is Caviteños have owned their land for generations and actually have fairly decent means of livelihood. If you see anybody in Cavite living in shanties, you better understand that these people were either relocated from Manila or couldn't find any more vacant lots to pollute over there so they settled in Bacoor (where the Mayor has conveniently dettached himself from reality). When urban areas swell over, the surrounding areas have to take in the displaced volume.

Going back to my point now. Cavite is no urban slum and we certainly want to avoid that. As much as possible, we want to keep the wide open spaces as they are: free from human spoils to allow nature to do with it as she wishes. It is alarmingly inaccurate, therefore, to have a fictional movie about Abu Sayyaf kidnapping (!) set in this province.

It would have been more believable if they had some mob syndicate or the NPA be the antagonists. These things are closer to real events here.

Imagine, Abu Sayyaf kidnapping in Cavite for a movie! Come on, you guys could have done better than that.

EVENT COVERAGE ::: Busy Snapping Away

I've been honing my papparazzo skills lately. The first set of photos you'll see (by clicking the photo on the left) were taken during our boss Edward King's surprise birthday party Friday before last. Nobody really asked me to do it but since our photographer was out on another assignment, I decided to take the Finepix S20 with me to Frontpage Piano Bar on Kalaw where the event took place.

Some of the photos are a tad blurry so I apologize for all the eyeball strain you may experience. Part of the reason is that I'm not familiar with some settings of that digital SLR so I mostly used the "auto" function. Nonetheless, I have gotten very positive results from those I've shown these shots to.

What came as a disappointment was the camera's CCD died the morning after! And we've barely used it!!! Later, I come to find out that it was a common problem with that particular model and the frickin' camera itself belonged to a bad batch Fuji already knew about. In any case, I've put in a request to get Fuji to fix it. It's just hard to accept how a camera that cost $1000 would turn out to be a, well, lemon.

But so much for that.

Tropang Puyat gathered this past weekend in remembrance of Ninang's birthday. Good thing Joey (a.k.a Tamulmol) brought his own digital camera. It's a 3.2 mp Canon Powershot A410 which isn't as loaded as the first camera I mentioned in this hurr blawg yet it worked well for me. I took some good photos of most of the activities including, of course, rampant tomfoolery.

As soon as Nanay Mely and the Pasig contingent backed up the driveway late Saturday morning, people began unloading the FX of food and things to prepare lunch. A very pregnant Mhec greeted me at the porch. The kids also greeted--Justin showed me his Sony Ericsson camera phone. (Turning 10 years old this Saturday and has a cellphone worth 6K. Yeah, I know.)

Soon after, the whole gang shuffled to the backyard to get the makeshift barbecue grill fired up while Janet, Karen, Mama, and Eloi got busy with the spring rolls (sige na nga, lumpia) and fried chicken.

Chessie was in one of her whimpery bratty modes again and wouldn't let go of Janet's shirt the whole time. I decided to get that brat out of there and took her to 7-Eleven with Justin where she picked up a Chocolait. Justin originally wanted the 5-peso slurpee but the girl at the counter grabbed a large-sized paper cup. Of course, Justin changed his mind and wanted that one instead. I bought two bottles of relatively cold C2 green tea and gave one to Janet.

Outside, it was hot and humid but Eloy and Joumar were working the barbecue like there was no tomorrow. I mean they were sweating just as the liempo did.

We had lunch boodle fight style and had to wait for the next batch of steamed rice to cook as the first one was consumed in seconds, as usual. The funny thing is it's never easy to predict how much to cook.

Later that afternoon, we went to the cemetery. Again, more snacking and taking photos happened. We packed up and left just as it started to get dark.

As Joey drove the "elders" home, the Tropa walked to Angelus to visit Bino. We hadn't done that in a long while. Also, we wanted to introduce Joyce (new member) to all things TPI. Hehe!

On the way home, we made one last stop at Joan's Internet shop to burn a cd of all the photos from our day.

S'gewd!