Last call

In the background: Run (Final Straw album), Snow Patrol











The autumnal equinox slated for September 22, 2005 signals the end of summer. The change of seasons and the turn of weather patterns may not always be the easiest to bear, but it validates the anticipation (spring) and apprehension (winter) paradox within this cycle that keeps us functioning.

(Mentioned this to several friends earlier and I am afraid I ruined what remained of their day.)

Just when I was liking the sand on my toes, it is done. Orange-red colors on the trees, football season, baseball playoffs, Thanksgiving, Halloween.... Bring forth the Fall - my favorite season. In the meantime, while I am able, I'll enjoy the remaining warm days as if it were still summer. This is New England - while a snow shower is quite possible in August, perhaps so will 75-degrees for temperature readings in Mid-October.

Lest we forget

In the background: Thief (from Happiness... Is not a fish that you can catch), Our Lady Peace

http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/09/11/911.anniversary.ap/index.html

The drones of my job didn't matter as much as what the news coverage was unfolding. Nobody was able to work after the second plane hit, the phones were dead until after a few minutes when my co-workers' families got a hold of each other. The events that followed speaks of the truth: Things are never quite the same.

When 9/11 hit, my working visa was still pending and I was in the process of sending another letter to supplement my application. I was in limbo, and somewhat fearing that I would have to pack my bags out of an approval notice arrival that might have been stalled enroute to my mailbox.

A blessing I am not to forget: I received the said approval notice in October 2001, approximately 2 weeks after the tragedy struck. The miracle scared off the skeptic in me even for a brief moment.

We may never forget where we were exactly, or what we were doing at that particular time. However, it can be easy to lose sight of what had happened. People have moved on somewhat, as we are urged to do so, but it will be wrong to think that these tragedies have rendered us invincible.

Kenneth Feinberg: It's a.... job, but someone's got to do it.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2003/11/07/60minutes/main582529.shtml

[His job is even more complicated because Congress asked him to evaluate each life, instead of just dividing the total amount in the account by the number of deaths. He was given enormous discretion to interpret the hastily written legislation that created the fund, which was designed primarily to protect the airlines whose planes were used in the attacks from ruinous lawsuits.... What's really unusual here is that Feinberg had the guts to publish a chart outlining the expectation of how much money you would get. And for the first time ever the government was in the position of doing comparative values of human lives.]

I have learned that try as you might, sometimes you just won't be able to please everybody. Mr. Feinberg is faced with the responsibility of labeling the worth of lives lost. On most situations with his job, while deemed to be what he was hired for, his judgments have added grief more than relief.

It was a brave move for him to accept such a Herculean task, and I would be somewhat intrigued to know how I would be graded if I were given the position. Without much thought, I crossed the idea off - challenges build your character but I will pass on this one. This just might be in the same circle of jobs that are not favored too much. Which reminds me...

Got to pay that parking ticket. I know it was your job to do so, but damn you meter maid - did you have to get to my car two minutes before I ran to it with more quarters?

Labor Day Weekend, September 2005

In the background: C'mere (Antics album), by Interpol

[Was too pre-occupied with the plethora of grub on Monday, post beer-mile shindig (non-participant)... otherwise, I would have probably taken a picture of the grill as well. - CM]

Fenway Park: Red Sox vs. Orioles Game #1

White Crest Beach, Wellfleet, MA

Ansel Adams Special Exhibit at the MFA, through 12/31/05

Tuloy pa rin: Wolfmann 1976-2005

In the background: So Here We Are (Silent Alarm album), by Bloc Party

[Aneurysm (n.), localized dilatation of a blood vessel, particularly an artery, or the heart. An aneurysm may be asymptomatic or it may cause varying symptoms, depending upon its location and size and on whether the expanding mass is pressing on adjacent nerves or vital organs. The weakened arterial walls of an aneurysm are always in danger of sudden rupture, with resulting hemorrhage and death.]

It can be defined several different ways, with several common medical terms, but the common denominator lies in the fact that an aneurysm catches you unaware and it does not matter whether you are 50 or at your mid-twenties prime.

My dear friend Adele's brother Wilfrid "Wolfmann" Hernandez passed away on August 21, 2005 at the age of 28. Articles and tributes have been written in his honor - I, being the Philippines outsider on this circumstance, have been amazed at what I have recently learned about him and his legacy on the Manila music scene.

Several years ago - [elementary school] did not seem that far out in perspective - I rode the same bus to school with Adele and Wilfrid . He was regarded even in Manresa as a talented musician, surely his craft was bound to break out in the scene at some point... and that it did. But such is life and its transient nature - I, along with his circle of musical admirers could only surmise that big things were ahead for him...

But the music would play on, and he will be remembered long after the last riff has reverberated. Tuloy pa rin, Wilfrid.