My happiest birthday

In this life, whether we find what we’re looking for or we’re still searching what we need to find or we’re lost and could not find our way to find what we think we need to find, it’s always comforting to know that there’s family who will be with us in all our journeys.

The celebrity business has an uncanny ability to smother one’s ego that causes moral dyspepsia and myopia. Fame can be toxic. It can turn a once kind, well-behaved upstart to a monster in 16 months. It can be scary because as you watch from the wings of the theater, you know it’s going to be over once the spotlights are shut off. Of course there is the other side of fame, the good side and that is when a star is not consumed by this ephemeral magic. But it is always family that remains constant in good and tough times. But sometimes it is also family that unwittingly pushes a star to go over the edge by imposing killer expectations. Many times I have seen young stars who have not slept in three days because of tapings, whose only break is to take a shower and intermittent catnaps in between takes while being badgered by family and relatives for a bigger house, a new car, tuition for 12 nieces and nephews, fashionable clothes for kuya and ate, after all, “Malaki naman ang kita mo. Iyak lang libo libo na ang bayad.” But I’ve also seen parents of stars who truly take good care of their children. Once I overheard a mother tell her daughter, “Anak, kung hindi mo na kaya, let’s go home and rest. School is more important. May trabaho naman kami ng tatay mo. We’ll take good care of you.” I wanted to weep.

Anyway, my recent birthday was extremely special. Nanay, Bong, Mana Fe, Jake, Lanie, Vic joined me for a short vacation in Hong Kong. More than my birthday, it was really a trip for Nanay who wanted to have fun — shopping everywhere she wanted to go — but of course she loved and will always love the night market in Hong Kong. 

At 12 noon of Oct. 29, the time I was born according to Nanay, there was a knock at our hotel room. Bong opened the door, I saw everyone with a tiny cake, but the most meaningful cake I have ever seen with one lighted candle and everyone broke into a happy birthday song. It was one of my happiest moments being with my family on my birthday. My heart was screaming so loud, “Lord, thank you!”

Mark, Marilyn and Macau

Dr. Steve Mark Gan is not just the best implantologist/dentist in the country. He is also a wonderful, funny, human being. Together with his wife Marilyn, Bong my partner, Philip my assistant, we went to fabulous Macau and stayed at the cavernous Venetian Hotel.

We took the gondola ride, made friends with the half-Italian boatman who sang Broadway songs for us. “How is my voice,” he asked, obviously soliciting praise for his singing. “Very good,” we chorused, except Philip whose left eyebrow had swiftly flown to the ceiling of the Venetian. We also visited the ruins of the Cathedral of St. Paul which still has the facade of the old church built by the Portuguese who colonized Macau for centuries. Marilyn we discovered is funny and can be an excellent poker player. In spite of being non-gamblers, we had a blast in one baccarat table. I won and lost my winnings in a jiffy. Marilyn was the best. She knew when to bet and when to stop. We were so noisy; the lady dealer was so amused that she said she wanted us to win. Except for Marilyn, of course, we all lost.

I look forward to traveling again with Mark and Marilyn.

The power of books

Books can change lives. They can sway people’s opinions even twist arms and necks. Books are powerful tools of change. It was in Anderson Cooper’s Dispatches From The Edge that I started to re-think about the traditional notion that newscasters are not supposed to show emotions, that they are simply mouthpieces of news devoid of feelings and opinions on the news that they deliver. Anderson espouses emo-journalism that simply says that broadcast journalists are human beings with causes and ideologies not driftwoods wandering aimlessly depending on where the waves push them.

In his book Dispatches From the Edge, he writes that he perhaps was subconsciously looking for a place (like Bosnia, Iraq, Africa) where the pain outside could match the pain inside him. Cooper‘s brother killed himself by jumping off a building that the family owns. His mother is iconic designer Gloria Vanderbilt. Today, Anderson is one of the best in news TV.

With the grand lady of letters, Maya Angelou, you read her poetry or one of her books and your tired, weary bones get stronger. She inspires without pontificating. She inspires because she went through sin and salvation, scarred, battered and healed. You read her and you say, well, “I‘m not in hell yet. I can move on.” She did.

I can go on ad infinitum like the books of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Andrew Sullivan, William Taubman, Bob Woodward, Khaled Hosseini and many, many others to make the fundamental point that books can pinch your nerves, straighten your hair, heal your broken heart, increase your bank account and hydrate your dehydrated spirit.