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What’s wrong with him? What’s with that slight cacophony in the way he moves nowadays? Every day, he senses a lovey-dovey cadence of delight he only felt in the comfort of a swing in the backyard back home. He is the composed gentleman. He is acutely aware that he is,…
Read moreLiving isn’t fair. The past ten months in Brookings had been a continual tussle of having faith and not having faith – a fluctuation that, in most instances, opted to stop on the former. Lately, however, my psyche had settled for the latter. The infinitesimal linear membranes of my reasoning…
Read moreIn less than two weeks time, it will be Christmas day. While I contemplate the birth of Jesus, I am also enormously grateful to God for bestowing a precious gift – a writing ability that I continue to hone to this day. I would like to close this year’s column…
Read moreNovember 30 is the day I turn a year older. It is the best time for reminiscing about sweet memories of the year before, musing on all things that have been left undone, reflecting on friends who, in all my years of existence, have remained faithful and never changed and,…
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Online, I thought she is as old as my mom. Truly. That explains why I always addressed her as Ma’am or Madame and never by her name. However, the first time I met her in Michigan barely a week ago, I have decided to call her just Miss Carlota. Carlota…
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The Philippine-American Picnic in South Dakota could be traced back to 1981, when it began as a small group of 40. After 26 years, the annual tradition has grown eight times bigger and happier. Tina Kauffman, I call her Tita Tina, started it all. Filipinos bring different ethnic foods –…
Read moreDreaming is my constant companion. It has caused countless unexpected things to come my way, including my being a US neophyte and appreciating the scores of stuff most of my countrymen love about Uncle Sam. Traffic, for instance. Traffic jams are virtually unknown in this place. There are lanes for…
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I counted the number of “HOW ARE YOUs” I received today. Nine. This doesn’t count the other “how are yous” I heard from students at the Union, the pathways, hallways and other possible places where people meet accidentally or intentionally.
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