Lest this piece be misconstrued by zealots belonging to any of the business ventures I will mention later, I'm not criticizing any pastor, kapatid, ingkong, appointed son, nor kurikong. I am unfit even to pass judgment on the veracity of their claims that they converse with God through a direct line either pre- or post-paid much less laugh derisively at the curse given by the appointed son of god, PACQ (we, Ilonggos tend to read this aloud as "PACK YOU") on Bro. Eli to the generous effect that the latter has only six months to live this "dutang luhaan".

Instead, I wish to solicit the opinions of upright thinking persons on how they perceive the organizational savvy and managerial competencies of the likes of Apollo Quiboloy, self-styled appointed son of god and presumably head honcho of the Kingdom Nation based in Davao, Eraño Manalo of the Iglesia ni Manalo eheste, Kristo, Eddie Villanueva, erstwhile presidential bet but continuing head of JIL, Eli Soriano, unique source of biblical interpretation of the Ang Dating Daan with the kilometric name registered with the SEC and the head of the El Shaddai whose name escapes me.

Should you have the luxury of time and inclined to share your opinion, you may find these query points useful:

1. If they are registered with the Securities and Exchange Commission, can they be engaged in exchange of goods and services, consultancy, or trading of securities and assets?

2. What are their strategies and tactics to support their phenomenal growth from buying block time several hours removed from prime time to cornering prime time slots to owning several television and radio stations nationwide?

3. Lastly, if ever their managerial and organizational skills are catalogued and intelligently translated to do-able skills, can these be taught or transferred to Filipino students in the secondary or tertiary level?

1. THE GIFT OF LISTENING...
I was REALLY listening but the guy who did the talking was an expert in monologue.
2. THE GIFT OF AFFECTION...
This is one gift that I must think twice in giving hugs, kisses, pat on the back and holds to my officemates least they'll be screaming, "sexual harassment!"
3. THE GIFT OF A WRITTEN NOTE...
I hesitate to give this twice over, the first time I scribbled a note to the officemate, she returned the note saying, "If you're here to ruin my eyesight with those ugly scrawl, don't even think about it!"
4. THE GIFT OF A COMPLIMENT...
The last time I uttered a simple and sincere greeting, I was hit right smack on my head. All I said was, "Today is your birthday, much as I like to give you a present, I'd rather give you a past."
5. THE GIFT OF A FAVOR...
I did this too but every time I go out of my way to do something kind, I forgot the way back in.
6. THE GIFT OF SOLITUDE...
This is where I excel the most, now everybody refers to me as that dysfunctional introverted guy who is a legend in his own mind!
7. THE GIFT OF A CHEERFUL DISPOSITION...
The last time I got bawled all over was slapping everybody's back during internment.
8. THE GIFT OF LAUGHTER...
At times the ravages of old age show themselves all at the ill-opportune time. I vow never to laugh boisterously with my loose dentures on. How can I help it? The guy's a killer at the punch line!

I, too was stuck long enough in a junior executive position that the last time I check with the mirror, there were streaks of silver growing in my sideburns! And I wasn't going anywhere up the ladder. Seeing to it that the boss has just finished lunch and about to take his nap, I knocked and was admitted to his office. Here's a transcript of what transpired.

I: Sir, I'll be candid and di na magpaligoyligoy pa. Lucky you, this is the 2nd time you were promoted and about to leave for Metro Manila for your new assignment. Me, I'm stuck here for five years now. Can you please tell me your secrets?

Him: Ok I'll also be candid. There are three secrets I'll share with you. Secrets so simple enough you can apply immediately. First, I always keep things simple, I say my truth plain and short. Nobody likes to listen to longwinded lightning and thunder speeches signifying nothing. Simplify.

Second, always do more than what is expected. Any supervisor will appreciate that extra thing. Big bosses are mostly lonely guys. If you're alone in the executive office, it can be creepy at times. So as a lieutenant, every time I say my goodbyes to him, he always let me stay another extra day, to keep him company, to offer a shoulder where he can confidently shed off his frustrations and fears. Now this is working extra, since keeping him company is not in my job description form but no, I stayed with him.

Third and last, keep Sunday for the family. They too long for my companionship and care.

I, the tactless I: Sir, excuse me. Which family are you referring to?

End of interview and goodbye promotion.

"Meron ka bang nagawang mabuti at kaaya-aya?" Tanong ni San Pedro.

"Meron pong isa," ang bulalat ng tao.

"Nung pumunta po ako sa Sangang Daan, Tondo, me nakita po akong mga barakong bikers na gumugulo sa isang dalaga."

Sinita ko po sila na pababayaan na ang dalaga, ngunit hindi sila nakinig.

Nilapitan ko po yung pinakamalaki at pinakatadtad ng tattoo at sinuntok sa batok, sinipa ang kanyang motorsiklo, nilabnot ko ang kanyang hikaw sa ilong at inihagis sa lupa. Sinabihang ko pang, "Hayaan nyo siya o magsanib ang balat sa tinalupan dito."

Bilib na bilib ang San Pedro. "Kailan ito nangyari?"

"Mga ilang saglit lang po."

Those bygone days were moments in learning, a great deal of it spent basking in all the magazines, newspapers, and books in the decrepit structure we call reading center till I was teary eyed and with a grumbling tummy. The thrilling part of it all was the wiggling through the narrow gap between the roof and the wall which only a wisp of an 11-year old boy can do.

Certainly thinking about things past have its dark side too. I can't help cursing at the sheer foolishness surrounding the demise of a childhood friend who made the railroad track his pillow for the night waiting for the bagon loaded with sugarcane bound for the sugar central. And then there was the thrill of puppy love when the seeming acme of devotion consisted of gazing at the roof of her house.

One can't go home again. After spending more years away from home rather than investing years in it can suspend an objective view of a homecoming. The acknowledging look of familiar faces replaced by feigned interest of current residents perhaps belonging to the second or third filial. I ought not be sad at this turn of events. I must admit that it is not only I who changed... my barrio folks too had the right to change. And they did.

Come to think of it, who can stomach the political ads when lumped in a public place? Trying to rationalize, I found myself recalling the acronym, A-I-D-A. AIDA is an old-school formula for marketing intentions. The first letter, A stands for awareness. Candidates who must forcibly thrust themselves into the consciousness of voters and pray for a long-term recall ought to package themselves so as to arrest attention. Thus the use of primary colors preferably red and yellow is prevalent. Interest or rather instilling and sustaining interest among the voters on themselves and their cutesy come-ons comes next. Here we are regaled with cue words such as "Itanim," "utol," and "anga" in the effort to lasso in our affection through the use of homespun terms of endearment. I hesitate to use the term, desire because of its rather romantic allusions but what can I do, it's the fourth letter in the acronym.Stoking the flame of desire seemed to be one of the objectives of political rallies. Rallies seemed to retrogress from once flowing rhetorics to fiery speeches to a new low - a song and dance number from the senatoriables! How low can you go? And this is not the line from Chubby Checker's "Limbo Rock." Finally and perhaps the challenging step of all is arousing action from the voters. Much as I like to rant more on this, time and space won't allow me. Till next blog.

Local politics - The colorful arena and staging ground of past political personalities who, by sheer force of their persona (and wealth)launched their political careers riding on the voting power of the economic class c and d with the monicker, "Timawa".

Wish list: 1) Baby boomers with a progressive set of agenda for Iloilo City culled from lessons learned when they were fighting it out in the various battlefields: corporate, academe, foreign deployments, scientific laboratories, military arsenal and what-have-you;
2) A partylist composed of baby boomers who can rally the silent majority from self-imposed stupor and have a go at it again (and again!).
3) Baby boomers who can emulate the grit and colorful language of a Roding Ganzon, the quiet dignity of a Paeng Lopez-Vito, the business savvy of a Fermin Caram and other leaders who can transform Iloilo City into what it ought to be today and not just the "next big thing."

Until then, I'll just dream on.