Book Launching

Last Thursday, November 24, I attended the launching of my professor, Elfren Sicangco Cruz’s first book entitled, “Setting Framework: Family Business and Strategic Management”. It was my first time to be invited to such an event and boy, it was a “star – studded” event. By star – studded, I didn’t mean that showbiz celebrities attended the affair, in fact there was none of them instead I saw some of the biggest name in politics, academe, and business to have grace the event. There was Senator Joker Arroyo, my professor’s boss during the Aquino Administration (my professor is the Presidential Management Staff Secretary and Metropolitan Manila Governor and later on, MMDA Chairman while the good senator was the executive secretary), Supreme Court Justice Adolf Azcuna, who was his colleague during the Aquino Administration, being the President’s Chief Legal Counsel, Secretary Angelo Reyes, a personal friend of my professor, former Manila vice – mayoralty candidate, Dondon Bagatsing, one of his buddies at the Rotary Club. I also happen to see Teresita Ang See and almost all my professors in DLSU – GSB – MBA. Among the business legends to grace the event was Jake Almeda, the former top honco of ABS – CBN, who also happened to be my profesor’s first boss – mentor. Then, there are of course, the most important guests of the evening, me and my fellow graduates of DLSU MBA, his students, the future leaders of corporate Philippines. In fact, one could really say that the entire event was really oriented towards us, his former students for not only we make up the bulk of the attendees but the structure of the book was so familiar to us. I think this is his way to teach us and update us on Strategic Management in out post – graduate life. What can I say, we are his hope, his life work. Professor Elfren Cruz was a student activists/leader in his college days at DLSU during the martial law era. And like many of the middle class intellectuals of his day, he was a communist sympathizer if not a communist himself. Funny but come to think about it now, he is a former communist teaching a capitalist subject. Anyway, he was the type of person who felt so indignant and angry with poverty and the apparent indifference of the ruling elite on their plight. So much so, that he ventured to understand the poor and he did by “living” with a squatter family for a year. I remembered him telling us during the end of the term that he endured all hardship and eventually “learned” to live and adapt to a life in the slum including the smell, the hunger, and the hard work except for one aspect, personal hygiene and sanitation, i.e., he couldn’t get himself to unload his metabolic waste anywhere around the corner but instead he uses the toilet of a nearby cinema. Later on, he went to work for companies and taking up his MBA at AIM and then was recruited to be the Presidential Management Staff (PMS) Secretary of President Aquino. After his stint in government, he went on to teach at DLSU MBA, write a column at BusinessWorld and work as a strategic management consultant to a number of Philippine firms, majority of them Filipino – Chinese family businesses serving as their board chairman or chairman of their management committee. Even with such responsibility, his fervor for the alleviation of poverty among the poor didn’t diminish but somehow I think he realizes that he couldn’t do it alone nor could he do it in his lifetime and which is probably why he teaches. To train future leaders who could carry out his vision of alleviating poverty economically through secure employment by healthy and competitive Philippine companies lead by visionary leaders, a noble goal worthy of praise, support, and emulation. This is why he wrote the book because 90% of Philippine businesses are family businesses and most of them are small to medium scale and probably a number of his students are actually working in family businesses if not owning one. In his experience, strategic planning and management is notably absent in family businesses and few of the businesses survived through the generational shift because of the inability to plan for the future. It so happen also that there is a dearth of books regarding strategic planning in family businesses, more so, in the Philippine setting and in a Filipino – Chinese setting. He wants to share his experience, impart his wisdom, and hopefully, his vision hoping someday we would succeed…. As the night withered away in laughter and exchanging of stories among old friends in business school in the midst of all the finger foods, cocktails, and wine, I can’t help but to keep returning to a part of his speech earlier on. In that part of the speech, my professor offered his gratitude to three of his mentors, Jake Almeda, Macalintal, and Senator Joker Arroyo. He is a lucky man for mentors are hard to come by. There are many teachers of course, people that teaches you skills to survive, to earn a living but there are only a few mentors in life who not only teach you skills, but also taught you how to live, show you a way to the future, and inspire you to move towards it. Very few people could find one but everybody needs one, even geniuses need a mentor, for without mentors, they could never blossom. My professor has 3 and though I’m no genius, I’m lucky to have 2 and my professor is one of them.

68 More Visits to the Grave………..

There was a slight drizzle this morning greeting the pilgrims to the stone city. It was as if heaven was silently weeping reminding us the solemn occasion. The teardrops from heaven awaken us to the painful and gloomy memories of the past and reminded us also of what future lies ahead, that someday we will be dead and share a space however small in this city of stone. It is in this backdrop that the city of the dead suddenly became bustling with life with the living haunting the dead and breaking the eerie silence. I was one of pilgrims this morning and like everyone else, I came to visit the dead. Visit, what an inappropriate word used to describe the act for as if the dead ever knew or even expect that somebody was coming to see them. The proper term for such act should be to come and pay my respect for the dead. Anyway, like every year, I first visited my father’s grave, lay out the offerings and pay my homage by inserting 4 lighted incense sticks on a small mound of sand in front of his tombstone along with my whispered message. After which, I lay the paper money on top of his grave and hike off to do the same with my grandfather, which happens to be located on the farther end of the stone city. It is actually a very frantic day filled with formulaic rituals and cumbersome ceremonies. In the midst of this frenzy, I actually forgot to “tell” both my grandfather and my father the good news that I graduated from my masters a month ago. I was meaning to “tell” them the Sunday after the graduation but somehow the mundane tasks of living allowed me the excuse to postpone again and again and now I was there and I forgot to “tell” them. Actually, I’d never believe in rituals and ceremonies neither in any religion that supports such. Nevertheless, I still perform the rituals and ceremonies because human beings are such a succor for rituals even if they don’t understand them neither would they care to understand them. As for me, I do understand them, i.e., those rituals and ceremonies. The things we do like offering incense, offering foods, burning paper money, etc., are done to remind us of our departed love ones. Those formulaic acts are devised to institutionalize their past existence into our memories by expressing our love to them however futile and useless it maybe by now. There are not acts of worship as some foreign, close – minded religion suggests because I never view my father as a “god”. He would always be my father. I remember a story my elementary school teacher once relates to me in class. The story begins with a Westerner chiding a Chinese for preparing an elaborate banquet as an offering to the dead saying that the dead wouldn’t rise up to eat the foods being offered to them and to which the Chinese shot back, neither would your dead rise up to smell the flowers you put in their grave. The point of this little anecdote is that the acts and rituals we do aren’t meant for the dead. It is actually a way we comfort ourselves of their “missing” presence. It is a way we try to remember them amidst a fading memory. And what better way to remember our departed love ones than to labor on their favorite dishes and offer it to them? As for the other rituals and ceremonies, though their origins has religious connotations, I still performs them even though I don’t believe in them anymore. My reason is simple. Why should I forsake a cultural tradition that I’m familiar with in favor of a tradition that is totally alien to me? Wasn’t it the thought that counts rather than the action? If it is so, why the insistence? My mother once told me a long time ago, that she wanted to be “worshipped” like her ancestors before by the time she pass away (She is still very much alive). It is then I realize the essence of perpetuating “old” traditions. “Old” traditions are an assurance that the living will be remembered when they’re gone. It is when traditions are passed from one generation to the next that that assurance will be affirmed. This brings me to another question. How do I want to be remembered? Looking around, I’d only found tombstone with pictures and names written along with their date of birth and their date of death and nothing else. These dead lived their entire life and what do they have to show for? A blank tablet. Was this tablet enough a description of their existence? Is that will be my epitaph? “Here lies Mr. XXXXXX, born XXXX, died XXXX”. It is so short and so unfair and so unjust but an inescapable fact except for a kindred few. History immortalizes the memories of these exceptional few. They are rare because their exploits are also rare. It is as if they are the only ones living in their times while the silent many were simply nothing or didn’t exist. Funny, but wasn’t that silent many that remembers the exceptional few? Or perhaps, I’m looking at the wrong signs. It is not the epitaph that perpetuates memory rather it is the number of incense sticks that protrude from the sacred ground. It is the offspring that comes every year to offer food and incense that perpetuates the memory of that person, proving that once he or she existed and that although he or she didn’t do great feats worthy of historical records, he or she will be remembered nonetheless because he or she was their love ones. As I was engrossed with this thought, I began counting. I’m now 31. The average Filipino male lived up to 65 and for a Chinese, we visit the dead twice a year, one on November 1 and the other during the Ching Ming, that means I had 68 more “visits” to go before it would be my time to lie on the ground 6 feet under. Plenty of time to live, to build an edifice, and to raise a family to pass on the tradition and hence, be remembered for.

PHILIPPINE POLITICS AND THE ECONOMY

Lately, if one were studious in monitoring the news from the Philippines, one would notice the very noisy political squabbling going around among the ruling elites. The core issue of the squabble is about the political legitimacy of the Arroyo presidency, which the opposition argued and proven rather convincingly to be a sham since the president cheated on the last election. However, the real trigger point that further deteriorates the political climate was the stratospheric oil price couple with the implementation of E-VAT, which put pressure on the cost of living of the majority of the Filipinos. Though the oil price increases were not the president’s fault neither was the near bankrupt fiscal situation, Filipinos nevertheless “blame” a perceived corrupt and “illegitimate” president for their misery. As a result, rallies and protests became a daily staple in this country and it is beginning to affect the economic situation in the country by projecting an image of instability that could easily descend into anarchy. As a result, businesses shun making investments until some semblance of stability and predictability is in place. This brings me to everyone’s question in mind, when will this all end? Well, setting aside the question of legitimacy of the sitting president, the current political turmoil can be attributed to the present’s ruling class own doing when they started EDSA 2 some 4 years ago. Again, setting aside the judgment on the previous president’s case, EDSA 2 enabled the disenfranchised faction of the ruling elite to ignore elections and instead opt for people power revolutions as a means of regime change and enthroning themselves in the position of power instead of waiting for the next election. Their justification is contained in the oft quoted phrase, “ 6 years is too short for a good president while it is too long for a bad one.” As a result, it has become a fanatical obsession of opposition politicians to hunt for a “smoking gun” of corruption or wrong doing of the incumbent president, using this as a basis for impeaching a president and if all else fail, launch a people’s power to topple it. It used to be that the Philippine economic boom – bust cycle closely follows the electoral cycle itself. Economic activity is recovering and improving quickly at the start of a president’s term culminating a peak during the mid terms and went on a steady decline until the next elections as investors adopted a wait and see attitude on the emerging economic policy of the next administration. However, with the prospect of having EDSA’s every now and then, that pattern of certainty, that cycle is ominously broken. Why would businesses hesitate with every regime change? Regime changes occur rather frequently in a democracy, so why the cautious attitude? Well, the answer lies in the political realities of the post – Marcos era. Politics has sunk to the level of vindictiveness and umasked greed with the faction in power threatening the economic interest of the deposed factions in the form of legal harassments and threat of seizure. It is no wonder that the disenfranchised faction would always seek to protect their interest by overthrowing antagonistic regimes. Furthermore, policy invariably changes with each regime changes causing serious losses among investors hence the caution. The proposed remedy floated by the politicians to solve the perennial politicking is to shift to a parliamentary form of government, which according to them would give the country stability that it hoped for by giving power to the person that could wield the most votes in parliament. As justification, they again use the phrase as well as pointing to the fact that it’s rather wealthy ASEAN neighbors are all parliamentary government with the exception of Indonesia. The proposal suffers serious flaws. First of all, none of the country’s neighbors could be considered as democratic in its truest sense. There is a limited democracy. The success of the Malaysia, Thailand, Taiwan, and Singapore could be attributed to the iron – clad rule of their political leaders. Oppositions are muted if not allowed little expressions but they were able to impose order and galvanize the populace towards economic growth. Clearly, its not the parliamentary system that makes it work rather it is the leadership and the iron clad policy on dissent that keep disruptive politicking in check. Second, politicking is not the problem per se that stagnate economic growth rather it is the consistency of policy implementation and the respect for rule of law and private property that is stifling growth. European countries are all parliamentary governments and they are as noisy as the Philippines could be (just look at Italy and France) but these countries were able to grow nonetheless simply because the economy is divorced from politicking. Certainty and predictability as well as legal protection make such divorce possible. Third, political allegiances are fickle and party loyalty is inexistent in Philippine politics. Destabilizing regime changes would become more frequent and “legitimate” under the new set – up, i.e., one doesn’t need people power to affect change but simple gather enough numbers. Fourth, parliamentary politics is about the number’s game. What assurances do we have against having a “bad egg” in the helm? In the present system, we could be assured that the “bad egg” only stays for 6 years. In a parliamentary system, the “bad egg” stays indefinitely as long as the numbers. It is not about the system, it’s the leadership and the culture of the ruling elite that is the plaque of the Philippines. To reestablish stability, it is imperative that the ruling elites “respect” basic property rights as well as contractual obligations, good or bad and not change them when another comes to power. In this way, the economy would become independent of politics. Lastly, though it may sound distasteful to me since I don’t support the present regime, let’s wait the next election to affect a change and not trying to circumvent it.

E-VAT LAW AND THE PHILIPPINE SOCIETY: A HISTORIAN’S VIEW OF A CRISIS IN THE MAKING

I never like writing about politics in my blog because politics are messy and I skip reading them in the newspaper for about 2 – 3 years already. This is because the stories are the same with little imaginative variation. It usually revolves around the “pie” and their relative share of it. You see politicians are just like spoiled brats that never grew up. They always complain that they never got enough share of the pie, i.e., that their share of the pie is small and insufficient for their gluttonous appetite even though it is big enough to feed a hungry family. And the one who wields the knife, i.e., the one in power always manages to get the largest slice. Expectedly, the ones who got the “small” slice complain about inequity and they go on ranting about it even to the extent of throwing tantrums. After some time and several barb trading, the knife welder would “give in” by providing the supposedly “injured” party with an “extra” slice of the pie though the combined slice isn’t as big as their slice just to stuff their mouth full and mute their complaint. But here is the catch; the extra slice didn’t come from the knife welder’s share. Rather, it came from the share of someone they knew would be angry but wouldn’t complain at all, the general populace. And after several partitions, the people eventually end up with crumbs! To add insult to injury, the politicians expect us to thank them for the crunchy and yummy crumbs! It is for this reason that I always deemed politics not only a waste of my valuable time since it doesn’t add to my knowledge but also a waste of my valuable computer memory because hard disks space is more valuable than writing about their trash talks. In addition to that, blogging about politics require me to spend extra sum of money to soothe my boiling indignation as well, e.g., I had to treat myself to a festive meal or watch a feel good movie. However, sometimes, it’s hard to ignore politics especially when it concerns both business and the economy. Take today’s headline for example. I woke up to discover that the high court has just lifted the restraining order on the implementation of the controversial E-VAT law and the government plans to implement them this November 1. Among the salient provisions of the E-VAT law was the removal of exemptions from a number of previously exempted transactions like electric power, gasoline, some processed foods, healthcare services, and other services. The income tax would also be increased from the present 32% to 35%. Furthermore, the law empowered the President to increase the rate by 2% next year in order to “improve” the fiscal situation, which all the more add burden to an over burdened populace. The intent of the law is to remedy the fiscal deficit of the government through increasing the revenue it could collect. Analysts especially foreign analysts from such institutions like the IMF, World Bank, Morgan Stanley, Citibank, and others would always painfully pointed out the “dismal” tax effort of the government, which stood at around 16% of GDP. It should be higher considering the fact that the tax rate is 32% plus VAT equivalent of 2% and other taxes. The conclusion, government should improve its tax collection effort and it still has some elbowroom to increase its tax rate. Really, who they think they’re kidding? It’s easy for them to say that because they’re not actually living here and hence, they’re not paying for their stupid advice! Besides, they stand to gain from the increase revenues because they would get paid for the loans they extended to the government. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not advocating that we renege on our debt obligation rather I deplore their prescription on solving the fiscal crisis. It’s not the inadequate tax take that is the problem but the system, the system of dependence on government “doling” as a means of enrichment and livelihood. Corruption is just one of the obvious form of that dependence on government to make money. Other forms include an entrenched, bloated and inefficient bureaucracy, unnecessary subsidies to buy political support from certain sectors of the society, wasteful spending like pork barrel funds, huge budget funding for “studies” and consultancy and the likes. On top of that, throw in economic mismanagement to the equation and there you have it, a ballooning budget deficit. Declining tax take is not the cause of the problem but the “symptom” of a failed system that is collapsing under its own weight and pressure from the environment. If I may allude to a historical precedent to prove my point here, one of the causes of the fall of the mighty Roman Empire is in its heavy exaction on the general population in the form of high taxes and often unscrupulous and “inventive” methods in the collection of taxes. The Roman Empire came to this situation because of its burdensome bureaucracy and military, its wasteful spending, and its ruinous economic policy, which were aggravated by endemic corruption. The effects of this abusive exaction was to trigger peasant revolts all throughout the empire but as the coercive power of the state were bought to bear against the dissidents, the Romans simply “evaded” paying taxes. Townspeople, barely surviving on their meager subsistent agriculture chose to give up their lands and freedom and offer themselves to the protection of a powerful magnate, which are usually government officials and senators since the latter’s households are exempted from paying taxes. These “colonus” or people of a “colonia” (Roman town) would work in the “Latifunda” (the equivalent of the modern day Hacienda) of these elites for a share of the crops. They are actually better off this way because they don’t have to pay the ruinous taxes at all but still they only earn subsistent wages, i.e., enough only to feed themselves. These colonus become the forerunner of the serfs in the European Middle Ages and the Latifunda become the precursor of the fiefs in the Feudal Age. As a result, monetary economy collapses, as less people were able to buy goods. Barter trading was revived. Economic inequalities became more pronounced and poverty becomes widespread. Taxes again fall short of expectation and chronic budget deficit appears. And what the Roman government did? They impose more taxes and inflict heavier penalty for failure to pay taxes, which all the more drive away the small remaining free farmers into the fold of the elites. Then, the barbarians came, and Rome couldn’t do anything about it because it is short of men and money. There are instances wherein the people actually welcome the invaders as long as these conquerors forgive their debt and lift their burden. The result, Rome fell and the Dark Ages sets in. Sounds familiar? Of course, history is repeating itself except that the Philippines is no Rome. It never was. Increasing government exactions only drives the economy underground further crippling the government’s tax effort, which invariably force government to raise more taxes and the cycle goes on until it couldn’t continue anymore and something happens. On the microscopic scale, both employers and laborers would seek means to “survive” and if the present labor situation is a gauge, things are set to get worse. Again, these are symptoms not the disease. Of all the economic classes affected by this latest crisis, the middle is the unhappiest of the lot. For unlike the poor (the ones living below the poverty line) who couldn’t pay anything at all even in better times, the crisis wouldn’t drastically change their status. Furthermore, the poor are the “pampered” class because of their number, which the politicians wasted no time in courting their votes by offering them subsidies and other forms of “bread and circus” as the Romans would call it when they surrendered their freedom in exchange for the imperial yoke. Rich, on the other hand, though affected would always manage to “get away with it”. The middle class however, is the ones over burdened with taxes and inept leadership. They are being pauperized and they stood to lose their status become noveau poor. The reaction? They immigrated not only to seek better opportunities but to escape hunger much like the Irish did when they leave their famine struck British ruled homeland in the 19th century and going to America or like what the Sicilians did in order to escape poverty and went to American or like what the Chinese did during the first half of the 20th century, escaping from the civil war. Again, this is a symptom of a decaying system and not the cause. Clearly, something has to be done to arrest the decline but RAISING TAXES is not one of them! Failure to address the systemic failure would lead to a situation where John Locke would describe as a man driven up to the wall and being denied of all his right, has no recourse but to exercise his one and only undeniable right, the right to rebellion. I hope that we don’t have to reach that point.

The Ceremony

There are certain moments in every person’s life when a point is reached when one could clearly see a break between the past and the future. Those are the moments when time stood still and everything that happened in the past flashes in front of you in a matter of seconds while at the same time, the future is shown before you like a premonition. However, those moments come at an inauspicious times replete of the honor and the dignity that should have accompany such rare and splendid occasions. It is in this sense of inadequacy of honoring the memory of that fateful moment that we humans created ceremonies in which not only we celebrate such moments but also to render it both solemn and dramatic, imbibed with the due importance that such moment deserve and consecrate it to our collective memory in the form of photo albums. As these ceremonies are repeated over the years and in each time with different actors, it has become a ritual and carry the force of tradition to the extent that it has become more important than the moment that it serve to commemorate; To the extent that the ceremonies supplanted the moment as the point of change; To the extent that the ceremonies has become the goal of the entire journey rather than the hard journey towards that moment or the moment itself. Humans, they are such succors for rituals and illusions. The truth of the matter is. The clear break happened way before the ceremony when one decided to reach the point of no return and cross it. The ceremony is just an imprimatur or a recognition of such successful crossing; an investiture of your new found status of a being different from the past; an announcement to the whole world that you are now ready to face a different challenge; a pronouncement to the entire assembly of human race that here is humanity’s newest hope, a hope that is consistently renewed every time the ceremony is performed. Last April, I not only closed a chapter in my life but also ended a phase as well and stared a new phase and begun writing a new chapter in my life and last October 1, I’ve formally obtained an imprimatur of my successful passing, a recognition of rights, and an investiture of my new status. Last October 1, I’d graduated from MBA.

TO MY LOVE, HAPPY BIRTHDAY

I started the day as usual and didn’t realize what the date is until I was filling out the date on a document that I was signing. Today is that time of the year when I would email you a two worded message saying, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I’ve been doing this every year since we broke up and most of the times, you only replied, “thank you” until recently when you ventured to inquire my state of my life. And then, we would exchange one or two emails concerning each other's status and then, I had to wait till following year to start the entire process again. I didn’t simply email you to wish you a happy birthday. For beneath those simple words, I also wish you the best and also, I want to know how are you doing and if you are happy. I want to know this because I still care about you and I still love you after all this years even though the possibility of us being together was nil. I could have just included those questions in my emails but somehow I couldn’t. I felt awkward to ask especially now that you’re already married. I felt that I had no right to know what is happening to you in detail because we’re no longer together. Besides, what is there to talk about? Everything is in the past. No use to bring it up. At any rate, I just wish you a “Happy Birthday” and that “may you live a happy life”. And maybe, if I could, I like to say this, “I’m sorry for everything in the past and those unfulfilled promises and thanks for the memories however bittersweet and I would always love you”.

The Tallest Tree

I was shifting through my email this morning when I come across with this old email from one of my friends. The story is about choices and how we make them. The story goes like this. One day, a wise man called out his apprentice. He showed him the forest and ordered him to go into the forest and seek out the tallest tree, uproot it and bring it back to him. The young man wandered into the forest looking for that tallest tree. He looked far and wide and searched carefully until it was sunset. He came out the forest empty handed and the wise man asked his young apprentice: “Where is the tallest tree?” To which the young man replied: “I didn’t found it, sir.” “How come?” was the quick inquiry of the wise man. “Sir, I can’t make up my mind as to which is the tallest of them all and the forest is just too big for me to search in just a day, I need more time to look for it.” was the young man’s sorry excuse. “Very well, if that is the case, you go look for it tomorrow then.” The old man decided. At day break, the young man immediately went to the forest to search the elusive tallest tree and before long, sometime after noon, he came back carrying a tree, the supposed “tallest” tree. The master asks, “How did you find the tallest tree.” The young man hesitated to answer into the query but he eventually replied, “I learned my lesson yesterday, I could go on and on forever looking for that “tallest” tree and may never even find it, because from my vantage point, every tall tree looks the same. So I decided to choose the “tallest” tree that I find yesterday and bring it back to you, Sir.” The master smiled. The moral of the story is simple. Practicality rules and never asks for the most perfect of all outcomes since it would only waste your time. However, I wish to venture and ask, what if on his retreat from the forest, the young man “discovered” and even taller tree, would he throw away the first and choose the “taller” tree? Or would he just stick to the one tree that he believed to be the tallest? What if he did in fact chose the latter, what would hinder him from choosing an even taller tree once he spotted one over the course of his return trip? Practicality dictates that one has to drop the last and choose the best. However, that is not only a very tedious process but also what if the decision is not just merely choosing the “tallest” tree, but rather one that involves another or several human beings? Would one forsake the current choice in favor of a better choice and hope that in this trial and error process, one would be able to settle down with the right one? Or would one rather stick it out and look for the “best” choice, hoping that the right one would “show up” eventually in one’s lifetime? How do we even “know” that the choice we made is the best of them all, if one hasn’t looked through all the possible choices? Is it possible or even practical to looked for all the choices and decide? How does one know that the current choice one had is already the best? Is it only after one forsaken it in favor of a lesser alternative? I remember the lyrics of a song and it goes like this, “Oh its sad to belong to someone else when the right one comes along.” Oh yeah, where is the right one? Definitely, it’s not in the forest. And is there really a right one? Or is the right one simply myth?

MID – AUTUMN FESTIVAL

Today is the 15th day of the 8th month in the Chinese lunar calendar. It is the day of the traditional Mid – Autumn festival. The festival is actually a full moon festival since every 15th day of the lunar month coincides with the full moon. What makes this full moon festival different from the 11 other full moons is that according to widely held belief, today’s full moon is the most perfect and brightest of them all. Modern day Mid – Autumn festival is unequivocally identified with the mooncake and the dice game but the festival is not the food or the parlor game. The true meaning of the festivity is about reunions or establishing that lost connections that have existed between friends and relatives as well. And for some, it is a time to establish that connection to that special someone whom one is destined to be with. The Mid – Autumn festival has its origins in the prevailing circumstances of a medieval Chinese agrarian society. Around that time, with the improvement of farming technology, surplus labor exists. Many young men would leave their parents, siblings, wife and kids behind to go to the nearby town or a distant city to work for the local magnate or for some aristocrat hoping to earn extra cash for the family. And every year, they return home days before the festival to participate in the autumn harvesting season. Naturally enough, it was a scene of joy and a cause for celebration when somebody gone for several months would be back home bringing bounties with him. Family, relatives, friends and neighbors all come out to greet the returning son and party. It was like thanksgiving cum reunion party; for today, we party and tomorrow we can expect a bountiful harvest. Amid the rancorous celebrations, there are also some who felt sorrow and sadness on the occasion. For when their husband, or son, or relative or friend failed to appear on the appointed day and news about them are forthcoming due to the backward technology then, those people dear to him would felt a shivering incompleteness, which was made more pungent by the celebratory atmosphere around. And so they look up to the full moon, hoping to send a message through it across time and space. Hoping that their love ones are also looking at the moon from the other side far away from home. The poet Li Po summed it up pretty well. “I raised my cup and toast to thee while admiring the beauty that is the moon and I wish that thou would be doing the same, thousands of miles away.” Well, with modern communications, we don’t need the moon to send our longing for one another and reestablish that connection. But what about those sublime connections? The connections that we all subconsciously felt but haven’t had, could we call or email them? We can only look up to the moon and hoped that someone out there is also looking at it at the same time and somehow connect us through across the distance.

When I’m 80…………

I was talking to a friend a day or two before and in our conversation, I told her a story that actually happened sometime ago. I received a call from an 80 – year old guy looking for my mom. Naturally, I passed the phone to my mom thinking probably he was a relative or an old acquaintance from the mainland. After the conversation, I ask her who he is and to my surprise, he was actually some distant grand uncle of mine. My mother told me that he called to thank her mother, my maternal grandmother, who happened to be dead way before my mother got married. I was quite confused about what she said and she explained further to me that he wanted to thank my grandma for supporting his bid in courting my grand aunt. Well, he eventually married her as the story goes but unfortunately my grand aunt died of childbirth complications. I had to say that I admire the guy. After all this years, he still love my grand aunt to the extent of calling up to thank my grandma through her daughter. He is a guy who is in his twilight years and looking forward for a peaceful departure and he wanted to say his goodbyes and thank you’s before he depart. He is looking for peace, probably closure, and probably make amends. The entire episode made me think back then as it was now on what would I be doing when I turn 80. Would I pick up the phone and call up every person I know and say what I needed to say? Or should I just keep my mouth shut and bring all my regrets, hopes, and passions to my grave and bury it there? Or if I do going to pick up the phone and call by the time I’m 80, what would I say? Funny to be thinking about it when you’re not yet 80 but I was thinking it already. I think probably I’m going to say: “You know what? I had a crush on you when we were studying however I was young and shy and I was sitting by the window and you were sitting near the door at the other end of the room and we never manage to really talk.” Or I could say: “You know what? I was going to court you when we were studying but then again your father or your brother looks like a mass murderer and actually scared me to bits.” Or maybe I could say: “You know what? I love you but somehow I fail to tell you that when I was a lot younger for reasons that I could no longer remember by now. We could end up together and things could turn out different.” Or “You seemed to be a nice and decent person but somehow we never get to be close, I wish that we get to chat more often and get to know each other better. Who knows we could have been the best of friends?” Or “You’ve been good to me so far, friend and I never did get to thank you even once in my lifetime. Well, thank you.” Or “We were not that close before and there is some sort of animosity between us. I don’t know what I did or what I’d said before to cause this rift between us. I couldn’t remember anymore. And if I do wronged you before, I would like to apologize for it and hoped that you have in your heart to forgive me after all this years.” Or “I never fulfilled my promise to you and it seems that I would never do.” Or “I never hold up my end of the deal and I’m just terribly sorry after so many years.” After which, I would probably end the phone conversation with: “Well, that was in the past already. What is in the past is past………….” Then again, why should I wait till 80 to make the phone call? I can just pick up the phone and call the people that I wanted to talk to and say the things I wanted to say. Never mind that people would think that I’m crazy or that I’m sick somehow, I think they would appreciate it. After all, it’s not everyday that they get to hear something like this. Then again, maybe something are best left unsaid at least until I’m 80 when everything is already moot and academic. When emotions had all but died down, when tensions are gone and everything is futile and passion has become as dry as the flesh that clings to my decaying body by that time. Perhaps, I’ll wait till 80 to make the call like what the old guy did. To say my thank you’s, to make amends, to tell them what I think and to cap it all with my farewell. That is of course if I am still alive by then and if I do, would the other party survive till then? That is another question to ponder.

A Wise Guy Speaks

After several weeks of dilly-dallying, I finally opened and started reading the book I’ve purchased. The book is titled “ Strategy Safari, A guided tour through the wilds of Strategic Management” written by the management legend, Henry Mintzberg. The book talks about the “evolution” of corporate strategy as well as the various schools of thoughts regarding strategy formulation. Mintzberg pointed out that strategy formulation process cannot be adequately describe by just one school of thought but rather strategy formulation process is sum total of all the school of thoughts combine. Anyway, I just started reading the book and haven’t gotten to the juicy part yet to really assess the idea behind the P655.00 book. Instead, what I find amusing is the poem that the author uses to point out the state of corporate planning in the real world. The poem is written by John Godfrey Saxe and is titled, “ The Blind Men and The Elephant”.

The Blind Men and The Elephant
John Godfrey Saxe

It was six men of Indostan
To learning much inclined,
Who went to see the Elephant
(Though all of them were blind)
That each by observation
Might satisfy his mind.

The first approached the Elephant,
And happening to fall
Against his broad and sturdy side,
At once began to brawl:
“God bless me but the Elephant
Is very like a wall.”

The second, feeling of the tusk,
Cried, “Ho! What we have here
So very round and smooth and sharp?
To me ‘tis mighty clear
This wonder of an Elephant
Is very like a spear!”

The third approached the animal,
And happening to take
The squirming trunk within his hands,
Thus boldly up and spake:
“I see” quote he, “The Elephant
Is very like a snake!”

The fourth reached out an eager hand,
And felt around the knee,
“What most this wondrous beast is like
Is mighty plain,” quoth he;
“Tis clear enough the Elephant
Is very like a tree!”

The fifth, who chanced to touch the ear,
Said: “E’en the blindest man
Can tell what this resemble most;
Deny the fact who can,
This marvel of an Elephant
Is very like a fan!”

The sixth no sooner had begun
About the beast to grope,
Than, seizing on the swinging tail
That fell within his scope,
“I see,” quoth he, “the Elephant
Is very like a rope!”

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed long and loud,
Each of his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong!

Moral
So oft in theologic wars,
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean,
And prate about an Elephant
Not one of them has seen!

Point well made, John Godfrey Saxe. However, a wise guy like me couldn’t help but ask how could the six blind men of Indostan “know” what a wall, a spear, a fan, a snake, a tree, or even a rope looks like? I mean to a blind man, a wooden palisade, a brick wall, or any rampart or tall obstacle could qualify as a “wall”. The presumption of the poem is that these blind men “knew” already and they try to correlate the elephant to what they’ve experienced before. To them, a wall is the brick wall that perfect sighted individuals knew. Ok, granted that these blind men were able to know by feeling the objects they mentioned before but I can’t help but wonder, how could they “feel” a snake? Wouldn’t the snake kill them before they get to know what bit them? Of course, one could reason that they “feel’ a dead snake before but if that is the case, wouldn’t they mistook it for a rope or a vine instead? Funny, I can’t help but laugh at my own triviality however; my point here is that even though Lord Saxe’s poetry is interesting, one cannot discount critical thinking while reading. Another point in the poem I’d like to question. Wouldn’t it be practical for those debating blind men to just move around and “see” what the other see and thus end all the nuisance debates? After all, they’re blind but not lame, nor limp nor crippled. They did come all the way from Indostan to “see” the Elephant right? The morals of this blog that I’m writing are that, One; it pays to be a critical thinker, who might find something to laugh at and come out being a wise guy. Two, never argue with a blind man or for that matter, any close minded person who doesn’t want to “see” the truth or any person who wouldn’t want to move around and “see” the entire truth on what an elephant looks like because it is an argument one cannot win. And third, always look around and “see” and don’t be blind even if one could be wrong in order to “know” what an elephant looks like. As for me, I haven’t seen an elephant in its entirety yet. Have you?

September 11

It has been 4 years since that fateful day and though I didn’t lose anybody on that terrible event, part of me did die that day. My faith died. My faith isn’t strong to begin with, being a late convert. I grew up in a family that belongs to another belief and I took up the faith because I am in a society wherein the faith is systematically being fed to you. The institutions that I go to, my friends, and just everybody else supported the faith. But somehow, I had questions but I never dare question it. September 11 is just but the last straw on top of the past tragedies that I experienced. Somehow, I was convinced that faith is just a magic word to strengthen man’s resolve in face of odds. It is also the same faith that is the cause of this great tragedy. I soon realize that by accepting the faith, one has to also accept the belief system, the ethical – moral principle that comes with it, and along with the cultural super structure that sprang out of it. It is the clash of these entire system that led to the terrible event, for men believe that they are upholding the truth and the righteousness of their belief but little did they know that the truth they came to believe cannot be proven nor is more closer to the true or more righteous than the other faith that it has came into conflict with. The historian in me has allowed me to see through the façade of the faith and pierce through its veil to reveal the real nature of faith whatever form it assumes. Faith is not simply about appeasement of our spiritual turmoil but rather a form of control. It is a means of unifying our varying minds to the assumed one universal truth. If that truth is real and universal and the other “truth” is false and is the work of evil. It is the conflict of these so-called truths rather than the misunderstanding of the differences that led to September 11. Men are by nature judgmental to the extent of being self – righteous even though they aren’t righteous at all and he will pursue this righteousness even if it is wrong to the very end. Men could be hardheaded and close-minded whenever he chose to be. I had since resolved not to believe in the faith anymore. I decided to stay out of the system and see it with a different perspective and look at the other ideas and faith with an open mind. I did this not because I wanted to understand the other “truths” but rather I learn from my “mistake and folly” of believing in propaganda and closing my mind. I had since learned to take ideas and truths in strides with an open mind but at same time remain skeptical to the propaganda that comes attach to it. I resolve to “free” myself from the chains that bound me and live beyond the control of those malevolent propagandists and become the master of my own fate. I wish others would take my heed………….. I have since regarded the event with an objective coolness but I still hated the perpetuators from both sides of such dastard and cowardly act. Only cowards would hide behind the veil of faith to cover their real motive of dominance of men’s minds and commit such acts in their name… Men are not by nature good as Confucius claims nor is he sinful, as the Christians and their brethrens would suggests. Neither is he evil. Rather, men are weak and close – minded, for he couldn’t overcome nor willing to struggle past his short comings, his emotions, his own creation that he impose upon himself, the system in which he born into, his own mediocrity, and his own limitations. What a pity.

Outsourcing

Outsourcing is a current management fad wherein a corporation assesses all the activities it performs, be it directly or indirectly related to its value offering by placing a monetary value to it and determine from it whether or not, the cost of the activity commensurate with the value that activity adds to the overall offering and from which a decision could be made on whether or not to have a third party perform the said activity at a cost commensurate to the value that activity portends to add. The trend in the corporate world right now is to outsource the expensive administrative work that doesn’t add much value to the offering as well as some of the low value – adding manufacturing work to low cost third party contractors. That is in the corporate world. However, I noticed lately that outsourcing doesn’t only happen in the corporate world. Modern life as we call it is actually an “outsourced” life. We practically outsourced all the menial activities, both important and unimportant ones to a third party and for what? So we could gain the valuable free time for other more important activities. Or was it? We hire maids to relieve us of the household chores. Nothing really wrong about it though except that we tend to get lazy and become dependent on them. We dine outside regularly because we would like to avoid cooking our food and worry about washing the dishes afterwards. Dining out has become an intricate part of our daily living to the extent that we celebrate every event both major and minor ones in our lives inside a restaurant. What happen to a good, cozy, homemade meal with a few friends and family? We hire wet nurses to take care of our young ones so we wouldn’t be burden with raising our kids. Wasn’t it the burden, part and parcel of raising our young ones? Wasn’t it, a “process” to gain intimacy and closeness with our young ones? Wasn’t it our chance to mold our young ones into the person we wanted them to be? We hire tutors to oversee our children’s homework. What about values and wisdom? Could a tutor inculcate that into our children? Homework is not just simply answering assignments but also a chance for us to teach them something outside of their formal education. It is also an opportunity for us to instill discipline and inspire them to better themselves through constant learning. We buy toys and computer games for our kids and let them play about it and amuse themselves with it. We did this to the extent that we pamper them in order to buy their cooperation and good behavior. What happen to playing with them and enjoy each other’s company? What happen to discipline? And while we’re at it, what about values and principles? Are we going to let game makers and TV producers shape them for our kids? We buy gifts for our love ones only on anniversaries and birthdays. What about the rest of the day in a year? Do we conveniently substitute that kiss and hug for gifts on occasions? So many things in our lives that we outsourced that very few were left for us to enjoy. And what we do with all the free time we get from outsourcing our lives? We work in order to earn the money to pay for the services being outsourced to the third party. Isn’t life ironic?

My Cousin Philip

It’s been 2 years since I saw the little fellow and boy, how tall and big he has become. My cousin Philip came by for a visit two weeks ago. He is already 8 years old now. Time indeed fly when you’re not watching. It has been 8 years already when I cradle the little guy in my arms. My cousin stayed with us when he was just a few months old because his mother is too busy to take care of her and hiring a maid is an expensive affair in Taiwan. Besides she couldn’t really look after boy given her full time job. I still remember the fond memories I had with the little guy. I still could vividly remember that pair of curious eyes looking at me trying to figure out who I am and why I am smiling at him. Nor would I forget how he literally jump up in joy whenever I took some time out from my work at the office and come up to see how he was doing. He would try to get up even though his limbs are still weak and extends his arms asking for me to carry him and play with him even just for a few minutes. I would usually saddle him on my neck and carry him on my shoulder and play horsy with me of course being the horse. Often times, my hair got wet because he would drool over my hair. There was a time he did even pee and soil on my neck! Speaking of soiled diapers, I never once changed his diapers. In fact, I never changed a diaper in my life so far! I came close once and that was when the “yaya” went away for a break and I along with my sister was left to care for my cousin. I had to change my cousin’s soiled diaper back then and I called my sister to do it. She complained and retorted that “he” is a guy and as a “guy”, I should be the one doing it. I countered that I’m still single and that I maybe traumatized by the entire event that I may forgo any thought of marriage besides I’m the big brother and I’m ordering her to do it. Well, I don’t know what convinced her to do it but she did it and I was excused from changing diapers subsequently. Talk about privileges. Come to think of it, I should be putting that in writing in my pre – nuptial agreement when I’m getting married. No changing of the baby’s diapers. I wonder if that would stand in court. One of the most memorable moments I have with the little guy was when he started to walk. At first, he walks with me assisting him. Eventually, I let him go and runs toward my mom. Boy! I should have taken that picture, that first walk. It was a sight to behold. In the process of learning to walk, he more than once stumbled and fell. Most of the time, he would cry and we would pick him up and he would try to walk again. There are times though when in his eagerness to walk, he would pick himself up and try to walk again without shedding any tears. I had to hand it to the little guy. It was an admirable feat, which not many adults could do. I always thought that people, especially adults, would generally stay down when they’ve stumbled or have fallen. They wouldn’t pick themselves up or rather they refused to pick themselves up and here we have a year old kid who in his quest to walk wouldn’t even mind to fall a couple of times and stand up again until he succeeds. I wish I had the little guy’s optimism or his zest or his stubborn determination. At any rate, once my cousin started to walk, I would always hold his hands and walk him down the neighborhood every morning to buy “pandesal”. He would gaze around as we walk trying to remember his new environment. His world has just got bigger from the usual room and the living room that he is accustomed to play and sleep in. I also remembered the first time he speaks out and it is over the telephone during one of his “conversation” with his parents. His father is particularly overjoyed when he heard his son says “papa” over the telephone. I’d say that I’m a little disappointed for I was hoping that he would call me “kuoko” (Fookien for big brother) after learning to speak but he didn’t. Well, that was eight years ago, now my cousin speaks straight Mandarin that I wasn’t even able to quite keep up with. Even with my rustiness, I still manage to communicate with him. Boy! He is quite talkative now. During his stay here, he was the one who does most of the talking. I never really know what to say. I used to ask him whenever I got him on the phone that if he was being good or that if he is doing well with his studies. Now, he is all grown up, I don’t know what to talk about. He was always babbling and I couldn’t understand a word of what he is trying to say and it is then, I started to listen. I realize that my cousin is talking about cartoons, the characters, the computer games he played and the characters he was playing. I was amazed by the sheer facts that he remembers. He could in fact tell the story of the entire episode and went deeper as in to speculate as to the origins of their power and birth. Wow! It is simply amazing, kids and their imaginations. However, I was particularly surprised and at the same breath thoroughly disappointed with my cousin, though it was no fault of his in the first place. I was surprised to learn that he knows “San Kuo” or the storyline of the Three Kingdoms pretty well. Being a historian, I was naturally delighted, for San Kuo was one of the great epic historical legends in Chinese history if not the greatest. However, I am greatly saddened to learn that he treats the entire legend as a game and that he is neither interested in the story or in its moral conception of right and wrong but rather in the power and hit points of the individual character. Never mind that Cao Cao is a sinister Machiavellian plotter with no morals as long as he has a greater power and stronger hit points and is likely to win a mortal combat duel, he is the “hero”. I am aghast to hear this. What are we doing to the kids? What are we trying to do with our future generations? Are we creating morons out of them? Worst, probably even devoid of morality. Damn! This is personal. I don’t care if they derided Star Wars or even twist Star Trek, its fiction but this is history! It’s the soul of a nation, their collective identity and it is a mortal sin, correction, a sacrilege whose punishment is eternal damnation to even twist it! I’d think I got to write and complain to those asshole on what they are doing. After listening to this, I tried to take him away from his dependence on Nintendo or Sega by teaching him something else. I first introduce him to my small hobby called reading. Starting with the storybooks of famous people in history, which his mother gave to me when I was his age. To my disappointment, he is not interested in it. Apparently, he has no genetic disposition for unlocking the hidden secrets of the universe. And so, I do the next best thing, I thought him how to play chess, Chinese chess and Chinese checkers. We did play a couple of games though and I was elated to see him getting interested in it though I doubt it if he would eventually get hitch to it since nobody is going to play with him when he gets back to Taiwan. Next, I try to have a decent conversation with him. As I mentioned, I really don’t know what to talk about with him and so I picked the oldest topic that men could readily agree and understand, women or for him, girls. He is after all, a guy. I ask him if he has a crush in his third grade class. To which he answered no. However, I was rather surprised that he or his entire male classmates hates the girls in class. I asked him why and he said that the girls are mean as in very mean. In fact, he calls one of the girls as “mu lao hu” (Mandarin for lioness or to be more precise, the mother lioness). According to him, the girls would always play a prank upon the boys and when the boys return in favor, the girls wouldn’t hesitate to run to the teacher (who happens to be a very “old” lady) and tell. The teacher would then punish the entire male students with extra assignments, detention, or a prolonged sermon. Talk about gender biases and equality. My cousin was so agitated with the story telling that he quipped that he wanted to give one of the girls a knuckle sandwich for being bitchy and mean. I would have sided with my cousin if the person in question were a little guy like my cousin but being the perfect gentlemen that I am, I counseled him otherwise. I told him to be nice to the womenfolk and that men like us should be loving them instead of trying to get even. I advice him that if he wanted the women to be nice to him, he should approach the girl and compliment her by saying that she is beautiful and she reminds him of his mother. Or if he wants to impress the girl, he could say in English, “Hey baby, you are beautiful.” Well, of course, I’m expecting too much from my cousin. He is still too young to understand the intricacies of flattering women and become a young Romeo over night or was he? It came as a shock for me to hear my cousin saying that one of the girls became nice when she had a boyfriend. Damn! Am I hearing right? 8 year olds having boy friend and girl friend relationship? Is that normal? Or for that matter. Is it legal? My jaws just dropped and remained open for like eternity upon hearing him tell the story. Damn, was I getting old? No, in fact, I am very, very old already as in grandfatherly old. At any rate, I got so vexed or should I say extremely traumatized by the news that I decided to drop the topic altogether and flip the channel switch and out comes Popeye in the tube. Good thing there is TV and good thing there is Popeye. My cousin got glued to it instantly and I was able to extricate myself from the mess. I had since then reminded myself not to talk about girls with my cousin at least until he turns 18. Damn, I feel so old. Well anyway, my cousin and I didn’t just watch TV, play chess, or talk about girls during his stay here. We manage to play some sports. Actually, my brother and sister got to play sports with him. They started by taking him to a badminton court and taught him how to play. He got so hooked to the game that he refuses to leave the court and when he did leave, he kept on nagging me to play with him at home, which I obliged of course. My brother and sister also took him to a sport shop and let him play basketball for a while inside the store. We also manage to play bowling ball. At first, the little guy is so enthusiastic and cheerful about it even though he consistently didn’t manage to hit anything with an occasional strike in between. He even told me that it is just a game and there is nothing to feel bad about it. I had to say I admired the little guy’s spirit. However, as the game wore on and the score piled and he getting the consistent zeroes in his game. His mood changed. His spirit sank and his cheerful demeanor is gone. What I saw was the first telltale sign of adult frustration, exasperation, and disappointment. It crushed me as it crushed him to actually see him like that. His head is bowed, his shoulder sags, and he lost all will to continue. Damn, what I have done? I let the little guy down. Of course, I did coach him what to do but I wasn’t a good player myself and I’m a terrible coach. At the end of the game, I try to pull him out of the room but he insisted on playing again for revenge, I think. His mother was adamant not to continue but I can’t let the little guy down at least not giving him a chance to fight. So I obliged and play another game, I even let him played my slot so he could practice as I continue to coach him. I jump from my seat and cheer him up whenever he hits a pin, even if it is just a single pin. In the end, the outcome is the same. Apparently, his arms are sore even if refuses to admit it and that affected his game. The cloud is over at his head and the weight of the world is on his shoulder. Poor kid. As we walked out of the alley, I told him that his father is actually a better bowler than I am. Amazingly, he looked at me surprised and asked if it is true. I affirmed it in an instant and actually told him to ask his father to teach him how to play bowling when he got back to Taiwan. I also told him to eat a lot especially vegetables so that he could grow strong and come back next year for a rematch. After saying that, I saw a lit in his face, a glimmer of hope. Ah yes, hope. Wasn’t that what the youth stands for? I missed the little guy already. He is probably having a blast at Tokyo Disneyland as of now. Wasting time away enjoying life and having fun, as should all 8 years old should be doing. I never have that much fun when I was 8 but that was in the past. I had a standing offer from my aunt to accompany the little guy to Hong Kong Disneyland this coming October. Honestly speaking, I’m too old to be asking for Mickey’s autograph as well as too busy to actually squeeze a trip there but the thought of riding with the little guy on a roller coaster. Well, I got to find time to actually visit Disneyland. After all, you could only be 8 year old once, right?

Unrequited Love

Sometime ago I got news that one of the women I’d loved has finally got a boyfriend. The news came as a surprise to me but I somehow expected it after all she is at a “marrying age” already. I wouldn’t say that I’m devastated by the news but somehow I am “affected” by it. Truth to tell, I shouldn’t feel anything at all since I decided a long time ago to give up on her but as it happened, I still do because I still and do love her. She was an old classmate of mine. She is the type of woman that nobody would notice at all. The archetypal “average” Eve. She was neither the prettiest nor the brightest and certainly not the most popular in our batch but just one of the dames. Like all other men, I also fail to notice her until one fateful day on our classmate’s wedding day. That day was a very bad day for me, for the night before; I got a death threat from a prank caller. Although I’d dismissed the call as a prank, I can’t help but felt disturbed and unease for the anonymous caller threatened to kill everyone in my household. I don’t know who he is and I was suspecting everyone who bore a grudge against my family or me. At any rate, I didn’t put at heart the matter until the following morning when the prank called again and repeated the threat. I was outraged and fortunately for me, I had installed a caller ID and immediately, I called the police, which promptly investigate the matter and closed the case. It turns out to be a real prank and the asshole is a deranged wacko. Anyway, I was in a heightened state of alert at that time. I was outraged and acted like a madman ready for the kill. Tension filled the atmosphere at home while the investigation is under way. In short, it was really a very, very bad day for me to the extent that I planned to cancel my attendance to the wedding reception. Eventually, my mother prevailed me to go and I did although under intense caution and under a cloud. I got the reception too early, even way ahead of the organizers. I sat there at the table feeling gloomy and seething in anger as the organizers arrived and as the guest trickle in. I don’t know what make me turn my head towards my back but as I did, I thought I saw an angel, a beautiful angel waling towards me. I didn’t recognize her but she literally took my breath away and my heart as well. She was like a ray of sunshine that break the dawn and usher a great sunny day. I was floored to discover that it was her, my classmate. I was stumped to realize that it was she; the angel that I wanted to believe that there is a God indeed. I was also stumped to realize that I’m a big, big asshole not to “see” her before. After all, I did danced with her in one of the school plays. How stupid could a guy be? She sat beside me that evening and we chatted the night away. My mood changed instantly that night and I was bubbly and cheerful. I complimented her on her beauty more than once that evening. Funny, I couldn’t remember what I wore that night or what I’d said either but I still could vividly remember how she looked. She was lovely, correction stunning. Her eyes looked tired and her face looked pale kind of remind me of the fair Maria Clara. She wore a strapless dark violet gown with golden leaf embroideries capped with a shawl. She possesses the lady charm that men find irresistible. I know because I couldn’t sleep that night and for the rest of the week as well thinking about her. I dreamed about her that week and some nights thereafter. That alone was enough to make me call her but I didn’t. I hesitated because I thought back then that this ain’t love but an infatuation. I was attracted or more like mesmerized and entranced by her beauty. It will go away after sometime. As it turned out, after a year, I still can’t get over with her. Why I even waited for a year to confirm my feelings? Well, she has the same name and family name as my ex and I’m very much in love with my ex even up to this day although she is already married. I fear that I’m falling for her not because of her but because of my ex. And I couldn’t believe myself that I got off a relationship with my ex and only fall for her surrogate who doesn’t even remotely resemble her. At any length, the most beautiful name I heard was also the most painful one to remember. My classmate and I eventually met up at some party. Though she doesn’t looked that stunning, I still felt something for her. It is love actually, confirmed and validated. I wasted no time to call her up and chat with her and ask her out eventually. I was however rejected not once but twice and in the last one, she flatly told me that she wouldn’t be available for the next couple of weeks. I was absolutely stunned! She never had a boyfriend before and she isn’t seeing somebody then. I may not be the most handsome man but do I look that repulsive to warrant a rejection? Well, I figured that I needed to take things slowly and so I continue my calls and resolved to get to know her better. I was to know every minor details of her that only somebody so intensely in love would venture to do. It came to past that I know her likes and dislikes, her favorite food, her family, nuclear and extended, her friends, her birthday, her wish. I also “research” on her. I took out my yearbook and try to find any info about her. I also manage to read one of her compositions. And when I know these things, I resolve to know it by heart and not through the aid of a diary or an electronic record. I was however totally disappointed. Here I am, trying to get to know her. Asking her questions about her and all I got was a short answer to my query. No follow ups, no meaningful conversation on any topic except for her favorite heartthrob, which I think is a lousy actor. She never ventured to ask anything about me or even attempt to know me not even a complimentary reply of “How are you today?” whenever I’d inquired her about her day. It came to pass that I concluded that she wasn’t interested in me and that I was a fool to even waste my time on such a worthless endeavor. I gave up but that wasn’t the end of it. Some time has passed when I got a call from an eighty – year old guy. He called to thank my mother or more appropriately to thank my grandmother who was dead way before I was born. He wanted to thank my grandmother for supporting him in his bid for my grand aunt’s hand. He was successful in his quest but it was short lived for my grand aunt died due to difficult labor. Nevertheless, he just wanted to say thank you as part of an old man’s quest for peace before his great departure. I was moved by his effort and asked myself would I wait till 80 and tell her that I actually loved her? Or tell her that maybe in the next life if there is one, we could be together finally. Wouldn’t that be too late already? She might be dead by then or worst, I may no longer be there. I couldn’t sleep that night thinking what would be like 20 – 30 years from now. Would she still be an old maid waiting for her Romeo knocking her door? Would I wake up one night sometime in my late 40s wondering whether or not I married the right woman? It was a stupid idea. Here I am speculating about a future waiting to happen but haven’t happened yet and there she is waiting. The next day, I decided to try once more. I text her, I called her. However, this time, things just got worst. She avoided me, making all the excuse. She rarely replied my messages and if she did, it was always short. I never get to say what I’ve felt. Never have the chance. Things drag on for a while when I finally decided to give up permanently. For a brief moments afterwards, I was angry. For how could she do that to me? Rejecting me while all along she was looking for someone. Then, I realized that how could I be angry at the one I professed to love? Was it because I didn’t get what I want and I’m angry for not getting it? If that is so, then I’m a possessive guy and I don’t deserve to love or be loved at all. Sometimes one has to continue to love even if love has forsaken you. Love doesn’t change because she doesn’t love you back or for some reason, you didn’t end up together. Love is all about giving and expects nothing back in return. Its sound cliché but it’s true. Love is all bliss when one is in the midst of it and a terrible burden to carry especially when one is alone carrying it. I’m willing to carry it. I decided that I’m going to still love her even though she didn’t. I may have given up pursuing her but I’m not going to forget her. That was centuries ago. And since then, I still manage to chat with her from time to time trying to find out how she was doing. I greeted her in all special occasions and on her birthday as well. I don’t want to be presumptuous but probably I’m the only guy outside her family to remember her birthday. And now, she has finally found someone. It was bittersweet to me. It was sweet because I no longer had to worry that she is going to be an old maid someday. It was bitter because I am not the one. I did congratulate her and wish her that she may finally found her happiness and that she may end up with her man and live happily ever after. Other than that, I harbor no ill will or any illusions. I only have a love that I will carry to my grave.

CHINESE VALENTINES DAY

I just got a thoughtful text from a lady friend reminding me that today is Chinese Valentines day or so its equivalent. I remember the folklore behind this day. My mother used to tell me about it and I came to read about it sometime later. The story is quite sad actually but nevertheless quite romantic. According to legend, there was a beautiful weaver goddess who resided in the heavenly court. She weaves the clothes for the gods and chief among them is the Jade Emperor of Heaven. One day, during her free time, the goddess descended down to earth to play, perhaps she is having a vacation, after all heaven could be monotonous and boring at times. According to one version, she was wandering around the field and saw a beautiful lake. She was so attracted to it that she took a nice cool bath in it. Oblivious to her, was that nearby; there was a shepherd tending to his flock of cows. One of the younglings strayed and went to the nearby lake and the shepherd followed only to discover the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was stunned and dumbfounded as the goddess was engrossed in her bath. Eventually the goddess turned around to find the awkward situation and instantly turned beet red due to her nakedness. The man felt ashamed for his act even though it happened by accident and he did the only thing that would redeem a woman’s chastity, he proposes. The goddess consented and they swore to heaven about their eternal love and copulate. They could have lived a happy life and things could have a fairy tale ending if both of them are mere mortals. Alas, fate always manages to dampen a fairy tale. The absence of the weaver has caused a shortage of clothes in the heavenly kingdom and the Emperor has ordered the search and arrest of the weaver for dereliction of her duty. However, the Emperor’s anger grew into rage upon learning of the affair, for it is an abomination for a mortal to wed such a perfect soul. As such, the Emperor ordered his generals to forcibly separate the wife from her husband and brought her back to her cottage to serve her punishment. Her freedom would be deprived and she would be made to weave forever. The army of heaven bore down on the poor couple and she was torn away from the arms of her love. He wailed, he cried, he called out her name but to no avail. For what is one man against the will of heaven? But his cries were not made in vain, for one of the immortals came to his aid, apparently moved by his love. He was given a pill so that he too could ascend and chase after the heavenly host and reclaim his wife even though he stood no chance of success. And he did. He pursued the army of heaven and his wife, crying out her name along the way. The soldiers could have attacked him and killed him but his love was so great that it shook every immortal in heaven and the Emperor has no recourse but to desist from the attack but the Emperor refuses to give up the weaver for it is a matter of high importance. As such, the Emperor threw his arm and caused a great river of stars to divide the two lovers, one on each side of that starry river crying out for the other. Alas, a barrier insurmountable has been formed and there is nothing both could do. The weaver came back to her cottage but she refused to weave. She couldn’t, for she was thinking about her husband and she washes her face in tears day in day out, if time ever hold such meaning to immortals like her. The Emperor seeing such predicament relented but didn’t give her up entirely. He decreed that at midnight on the 7th day of the 7th month of the lunar year, both lovers would have their one brief chance to see each other. After which they would be once again be physically separated by the stars though connected by the bond of their love they had for each other. She would then work for the Emperor and if she fulfills her job, the Emperor would continue to honor the arrangement. The two lovers agree to this arrangement, for what choice do they have? And on the appointed day, the two lovers came to the shores of that great divide and suddenly a flock of swan flew past them forming a great bridge. The moment has come and they both embraced each other. So many things to say, so many sweet nothings to whisper but so short a time. The only thing they could do is to hold each other, profess their love, and renew their vows. Then the ground shake and their feet gave way and the birds flew away. They are separated again. Each on both sides of the river looking at each other, trying to remember what each looked like for they would never see each other again till next autumn. Slowly, they reluctantly left and each went back to their ways, the shepherd to his herd and the goddess to her chores. It is raining hard here. Too bad, for I would have search the sky for that two bright stars separated by that great river as pointed out by my mother when I was young. Their souls has since then transformed into the two bright luminescence. I always wanted to see the floating white bridge between the stars but then again it’s just a fairy tale and only fools believed in fairy tales. Perhaps, I’m a fool.

STEVE JOBS

This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005 at Stanford University. I got this text from a fellow MBA classmate. She emailed all her classmate as part of comradery among graduates to be and I find this text inspiring. I just wish that someday when its my turn to walk up the podium and receive my honorary degree, I would be able to tell my own story story and inspire the graduates to be just like what Steve does with me.

"I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky – I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me – I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much."

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how ways lead on to ways,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost

__________________________________

I had started my journey down the road that I have chosen.

And I can't wait to seewhat lies up ahead

And find out where it lead up to.

But there are times I wonder

Whether that in my eagerness,

I walked too fast to enjoy the scenery.

I looked back and tried to remember

The open green meadow, bading me to stop

To lie down, smell the flowers, listen to the bird chirps

And watched the day passed and turn into night;

And count the stars

And sing the lullaby with the moon.

And close my eyes and dream the most wonderful dream.

Or even wonder what the other road holds.

Then I woke up with the sun dazzling my eyes and pointing me the way down the road.

I picked myself up and looked back at my trail,

Smiled at the memories

And continue my way down the road,

Towards the path that I've chosen.

Knowing that an equally fine lot is waiting along the way

And maybe this time, I shall linger awhile.

A Manifesto of our Commitment

I wrote this piece as a Christmas gift and a tribute as well from our MBA class to our Strategic Management professor, Elfren Cruz, a great man who I considered my mentor. This article came out in his column in BusinessWorld dated January 15,2002 under the title, “Why I Teach”. I had since taken this commitment as a pledge to a mentor, a debt that I would repay back in due time.

In the beginning, we all have dreams. It is this dream that led us to De La Salle University and MBA. Because we believed that we lack the skills and knowledge to help us achieve our dreams and we believed that in this institution, we can learn those skills and knowledge. We were willing and bale to endure all the sleepless nights, the pressure of balancing study and work, and braving through the tortuous traffic simply, because we wanted to achieve our dreams and that was all we know. We never knew of a higher calling or purpose until we took up your subject (Strategic Management). Like all of us, you also have a dream or in your business parlance, a vision. Your vision is a Philippines where no Filipino goes hungry or seen begging in the streets. Every Juan or Eva would have a decent job and lived a prosperous and dignified life. Everywhere Filipinos go, they will hold their heads high and proud of their heritage and race and not being look down upon by other races and people. To achieve this vision, you devise a strategy. Again borrowing from your word, reengineer the elite, specifically, the future elite which in this case is all of us, your student. By helping us to develop the skills, you would help us succeed in our career and make our companies more profitable and in the process, we would be hiring more people, generate employment and thus improve the lives of millions of poor Filipinos. By teaching us the frameworks to analyze our companies and making them more competitive, we would be making the Philippines competitive as well, since, the economy is but the aggregate sum of all the companies in the country. For that notable goal, you have our most sincere respect from the bottom of hearts. Before we came to class, we know only our dreams but now, thanks to you we have a vision. For this, we want to offer you, our heartfelt appreciation for what you did for us and for your noble goals, we cannot find a more appropriate response than to pledge our solemn commitment to your vision and to do all we can to improve the performance of our respective companies and in turn contribute to the national economic development. We pledge this with our heart and soul.

From the class of GSTRAMA, 2nd term, 2001 – 2002, Monday class.

My Contract

I wrote a contract when I was 20 years old. Back then; I was young, eager, and restless. It was written in Chinese. The contract I wrote is about a promise. It is a promise to myself, more aptly, a promise to my then future self, 10 years after. In that contract, I wrote that I don’t want to be stuck in my parent’s crummy old factory and watch over it till my demise. Instead, I vowed to use every strength, every courage, and ability that I possessed to remedy the situation in such a way that 10 years after, I would become a man respected for his effort, for his ability and become a leader of a community. Furthermore, I promised my future self that this would not be a dream at all nor would it be a wishful thinking but a reality that I could expect to live in when I am 30. I even signed the contract against my future self to seal the pact. I kept that contract in my wallet to constantly remind me of my task. I have since lost the contract when my wallet was stolen. However, the spirit of the contract lives on in me. I was driven to excel, driven to do my outmost best and when my best fell short due to my lack of skill, I strove to remedy it by taking up further studies, only to find that I already had what it takes to succeed. I only lack the confidence and the mindset to do what it needed to be done. Eleven years later, I have failed to realize my obligation but somehow I didn’t despair rather I felt superbly good about myself. This is because I now felt confident and capable to realize my dream into a reality but I need more time to make it real. The rashness of my youth has given way to the patience of my age. One cannot turn into a billionaire over night. It takes time and patience. Trifles and trials, challenges and mistakes. Rome isn’t built in a day. Nonetheless, I still bound myself to my oath. I renewed my contract last year and this time, I know I can do it and I just wanted to say to my 40 year old self; relax and go get a Caribbean holiday for a job well done.

THE CONTRACT

July 26,2004
(Translated from Chinese)

Ten years has already passed and the obligation stipulated in the contract wasn’t realized as promised. However, the actions and effort taken in the past ten years were not for naught for it had tremendously helped in the advancement toward the realization of the promise and in effect brought the dream closer to reality. More time is needed.
Therefore, on this day, July 26,2004, I (name) again promised myself ten years after that I would exert my greatest effort to become a very successful businessman, to become a leader of the community, a well - respected man whose life would be told as a legend by the great many and not a man who is stuck in a dilapidated factory without hope or salvation till my own death.
Again, I would want to reassure my future self of a reality and not just a fancy dream made during a daytime nap. This I promise to make it happen!

Signed

(Name) July 26,2004

Signed

(Name) July 26,2014