Jumping Off

I always wondered what it felt like to jump off a cliff. I bet the experience would be mind blowing, as the wind whips around you and your body crashes into the awaiting sea below.

Yes, I mean freefalling and no, I do not have suicidal tendencies (my life is not yet that horrible.)

Though, as tempting as the call of the sea is and as much as I want to have my heart skip several beats due to the adrenaline rush, only one thing now poses a problem. This is quite embarrassing to admit, but me jumping off a cliff won’t happen anytime soon. Since, for one thing, I don’t know how to swim.

No, I didn’t lead a deprived childhood.

Like any other kid, I went to swimming classes. I did the drills; I swallowed litters of chlorinated water, I nearly drowned more than once and got allergies that left me red for days. But I still didn’t get a good grasp of staying afloat. With that in mind, I’d like to believe that I’m too smart for swimming; back then, I cared more about math than I did about drowning. (Which I know, is an extremely lame excuse.)

However, after attending the 1st Future Leaders Business Summit by Aboitiz, this all changed (No, they didn’t teach me how to swim!)

“Don’t be afraid to jump,” said Al Aboitiz in his talk on Management and Leadership.

This may sound suicidal on so many levels, yet so right at the same time. In what ever we do, if we are just fueled with passion and driven by desire then jumping off a cliff would be easy – proverbially speaking of course.

Now, I wont be jumping off the next cliff I see (or bridge for that matter), but after the summit I felt stuffed. Not because they treated us like Christmas turkeys and kept feeding us throughout the two day summit, but because of the valuable insights I’ve acquired from the various key note speakers – after all, it’s not everyday you get to sit right next to CEOs and place them in the hot seat.

Today, tomorrow or next week, I might just jump off a cliff. Just give me something to keep me afloat, and everything’s hunky-dory. Who cares if the orange life vest clashes with my attire, it’s the fact that I jumped that matters.

Okay, there’s the probability that beachcombers would be picking up washed up bits and pieces of me along the seashore after I painfully crash-land on the rocky planes of the cliff. But hey, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

After all, I’m no longer afraid to jump. It’s time to take risks.

Now will you please hand me that life vest, I’m jumping. I’ll see you in the beckoning ocean.

Piglet, what are you?

Why do we have to bother ourselves with questioning a cartoon character’s sexuality? Will it change the world if we finally figure out that Piglet, Pooh Bear’s tiny sidekick, is actually female rather than male (or male rather than female)?

Yes, I can see it now. World hunger will suddenly disappear once Piglet comes out of his (or her) closet. Poverty will indeed be history as the pink pig announces his/her sex.

“I am a girl/boy!” shall be on the front page of various national broadsheets. Corrupt officials will be so surprised by the revelation that they will forget their corrupt ways and admire Piglet forever.

Nations will be so stunned that their economy somehow booms overnight. It shall be called the ‘Piglet-hype’, and Piglet paraphernalia would be the most bought items on the market.

Before we know it, the color pink shall become a world wide color. People will no longer get a tan, but instead will be completely pink. 'Pink in a can' will be global hit and tanning saloons will be out of business unless they start calling themselves 'Pinking saloons.'

Flags of all nations shall have hints of pink in all of them. People who detest any shade of pink shall be condemned. People will literally start wearing rose colored glasses and while they're at it, wear pink contact lenses.

Soon thereafter, people will be healthier. They will not eat pig (or god forbid, piglets), in fear of offending Piglet. Man will eat organic food and be in total zen mode. “One with nature,” shall be our battle cry! Oh, and let’s not forget the honey, as to not forget poor little Pooh (and while we are at it, we might as well give the poor bear a pair of pants. He must feel cold down there.)

A “save the piglet” movement will soon follow, and anybody caught eating pig shall be subjected to medieval punishment. Cows and chicken in turn, will be extinct after several years and we will then join herds and eat grass.

Of course, all of this is just imagined. As much as I want poverty to be history, a piglet cannot do that overnight. Nor can a tiny pig stop world hunger – unless it offers itself for mass consumption. And if it is not yet to clear to some dense people, Piglet is a two-dimensional drawing – it's not alive.

Are we really that bored with our lives that we try to figure out a cartoon character's gender rather than doing something productive? Would it hurt to actually lift a finger and do something other than figuring out a pig's sexuality or a sea sponge's gender preference. Life can't be really that boring, can it?

Now, if you are really that bored, you can make yourself useful by going to Bikini Bottom and ask Spongebob if he has the cure for the common colds instead of asking him if he's gay. That's the least you can do.

Rainy Days

I’m never prepared for the rainy season. I hate lugging around umbrellas, so I never bring one around. Raincoats are out of the question, since I don’t own one and will never use one either (too old school). I’d much rather walk in the rain and get soaking wet.

I never liked driving while it rains too. Aside from the atrocious traffic a heavy downpour can cause, it also brings about huge floods and ankle deep puddles.

Why do I complain about puddles and floods while driving, you ask? The answer is quite simple, I hate cleaning cars. It’s such a hassle to clean cars once it has rained; especially when you drive through some murky, green waters of god knows what.

My father doesn’t believe in Car Wash services. He believes in elbow grease and our trusty old bucket. Most of my childhood was spent cleaning his car and motorcycle and being sopping wet all the time.

My father owns an off roads jeep, it takes on great speeds (I was never late for a class) and is naturally perfect for rocky terrain. As any other jeep would have it, it has no windows. When it rains, you obviously get a bit wet, that’s something I’ve gotten used to over time.

Now, when the streets get flooded, driving around in the jeep gets risky. We usually drive a bit slower (which isn’t much really, since the family likes drive really fast) since we don’t want to cause any tidal waves of murky, green water and shower unsuspecting pedestrians with radioactive goop. However, there are still some inconsiderate idiots out there who drive at top speed and cause tiny tsunamis of the aforementioned goop.

I hate it when these half-brained drivers zoom by our jeep and cause huge tidal waves to come my way (since I sat in the passenger’s seat). Instinctively I usually duck and pray that my uniform won’t get soiled. I’ve had my fair share of murky, green water, that’s all I can say.

While in driving school, I had the misfortune of driving while it rained. With my instructor next to me, he told me to stay calm and just imagine that the sun was shinning. Yeah right, I thought. Just as I was about to enter the Reclamation area, some idiot had to fly by our car, obviously not seeing the “student driver” sign slapped on the ass of the car, causing a huge wave of muddy water to splash against my window.

What did I do?

I screamed and ducked. Mind you, I still passed driving school.

As much as I love walking through the rain and getting sick, driving through it is a whole other story. Especially if it involves radioactive water that floods the streets. Not until we invent water-repelling car windows, I’m not driving through any flooded streets.

Just give me an icebox and I’ll ride that across the flooded streets. Now I’m ready for the rainy season.

Cyber Space

I’m no fan of online chat rooms. Talking with oddly named (and spelled) entities just creeps me out. For all I know, I might be talking to a smelly, old dude from god-knows-where.

Sure, going online serves as an alternative for getting to know “real” people – since obviously you are just too lazy to get off your behind and go into the real world (instead, you head off into the cyber world). You encounter various characters online, characters you are sure would never meet in real life – after all, when can you meet a self-proclaimed exhibitionist, contortionist and an all-out idiot all wrapped into one?

Let’s get real here; there are just too many strange people online (including you?). Not to sound preachy or anything (or god forbid, sound like your mother), the online chat rooms are teeming with frauds and posers – you can practically smell their un-authenticity a cyber-mile away.

Plus, there are too many perverted people online. As if sexually driven people in the real world weren’t enough, you get more of these sick people online. These electronic, pixilated rooms are no longer safe from our so-called innocent eyes.

Before you know it, as you enter some nondescript chat room, you are given countless “hot offers” which you apparently can’t refuse. Hopefully, you are sane enough that you refuse the aforementioned ‘hot offer’ and boldly declare that his/her offer isn’t appealing all, but instead is as perverted as the sun is hot.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that there are some decent people online. For all I know, there are decent people out there who like me, have nothing better to do with their lives but prowl around the internet and interact with other people - regardless of “what” or “who” they are.

It would be stupid for me to preach about not giving away contact information since I assume, we are all educated enough (and hopefully, right in the head) to know not to give out any kind of contact information. But then again, we give out our e-mail add to complete strangers online just for them to add us on Friendster – since we are desperate to increase our friends count.

I’ve grown tired of chat rooms after receiving one too many marriage proposals, group orgies invites and other unmentionables. I for one do not want to chat with some random dude named “Hot_stuffz_23” – because, for all I know, besides from being illiterate and utterly whack in the head, this dude is without a doubt some pathetic old dude going online in his empty, little house with his dusty Star Treck collection.

And besides, if you spend too much of your time talking to faceless people, that means only one thing – you need a life.