I miss my Sinulog

One of my earliest memories of the Sinulog Festival is of a well-dressed young woman brandishing her umbrella at two young men in an attempt to prevent them from putting grease on her face. It must have been in the early years of what is now branded as the “Mother of all Festivals” in the country. These days, no one wears a white sleeveless blouse tucked into a black pencil skirt and black pumps while walking along Mango Avenue on the day of the Grand Parade.

Everyone now dresses to brave the heat,
crowd and long hours of walking during
the Sinulog Grand Parade.

I was still a high school student when the City of Cebu started holding the Sinulog in 1980. I got to dance in the street when spectators could still join the parade, but never as part of a contingent since St. Theresa’s College was not among the participating schools. My sister, though, was among those in the University of San Carlos contingent and I remember her boyfriend joining the group as a “watcher”, although it was apparent that the only one he was interested in watching was my sister, who he zealously guarded from would-be hecklers. Security was not tight at the time and anyone could come up to anyone and dirty their face with grease, usually taken from cars parked nearby and God knows where else.

What our kids see

We’re trying out Netflix for free, and are enjoying some TV shows that are otherwise not available:  “Orange is the new Black” and “Vikings”, among a few.

Image borrowed from noobie.com's
  "What is my child watching on Netflix?"
by Patric Welch.

Anyone who’s watched these shows know there’s a lot of graphic sex scenes as well as blood and gore that comes with medieval fighting. 

My daughter sometimes watches with us, and who can blame her? The plots draw us in and we can really watch episode after episode after episode. Plus, it’s nice to watch together with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Coke between us.

My Wall, My Post

On the days leading to the Philippine Presidential elections in May 2016, I saw this phrase with increasing frequency on Facebook posts.

It usually ended a post stating a position on anything and everything about the presidentiables.  The comments and exchanges then were so heated that friendships were deleted, lost, blocked, hidden, etc. on Facebook.

I can write about it now. But at the time, I remember feeling upset at the ugliness of some of the exchanges, especially those coming from my friends. There was cursing, swearing, name-calling, accusations. And at the end of it, there was almost always that phrase or a version of it – “my wall, my post”.

Like it's license to be rude, make irresponsible accusations or statements, be malicious, issue insults…to be a total asshole and bitch.

So it’s your wall, your post. But it’s OUR space.

You indulge in behavior that would be unacceptable in an actual, physical gathering then you hide behind a reminder on respecting freedom of expression?

Coward.

It's in the (conference) bag

Are conference bags still relevant as promotional vehicles for event sponsors?

It doesn’t seem so based on the contents of a bag that was given to delegates of the BusinessWorld Economic Forum held last July 12, 2016 at the Shangri-La at the Fort in Taguig City.

Only a handful of sponsors had promotional materials or items inside the bag. It was pretty dismal, particularly since the only items inside the bag about the economic forum was a half-fold program and the delegate’s I.D.

Do event sponsors still consider the conference
bag a promotional vehicle for their companies
and/or products and services?

Plainly speaking, the bag comes nowhere near the prestige of the event. Speakers topbilled by Manuel V. Pangilinan who heads the MVP Group of Companies, Vice President Leni Robredo and Finance Secretary Carlos Dominguez III tackled the topics of succession, integration, disruption and capacity – with the aim of understanding, predicting and influencing the country’s business and economic growth, particularly in light of forthcoming changes under the Duterte administration.

Concrete Jungle

When my mom moved into a condo in Cebu, I really didn’t think much about how different it would be from living in a detached family home. I was just glad that she was finally living on her own terms in a two-bedroom unit that was spacious enough for her and her household help. A bonus was the terrace she always said she wanted although there is little chance of sitting outside and sipping coffee unless you want to do it in full view of the cars, pedestrians, habal-habal and tricycle drivers below.

And then we move into one in the central business district of Makati City, considered the country’s financial and business center.