While going over my old files which were saved in a case of CDs, I came across a word document file with the above title. As I double clicked it, I couldn't help but smile remembering the times I wrote this certain article. The entries here were written on different dates. I remember writing each entry when I felt like it, when my passion for writing struck me (which was frequent during those gone by years).

I decided to have it published here because I don't want to lose this "masterpiece" (as I want to regard it). This had been written not only with my hands but with my heart and soul (dramatic!).

P.S. Pictures attached! ;)

THE MEN IN MY LIFE

PERSONAL PROFILE
Name: OSCAR B. AÑONUEVO
Age: 56 years old
Profession: Father (to us) & Husband (to nanay)
Hometown: Inopacan, Leyte
Status: Married (to my mother)

I love the last line.. My name sure is a simple, yet one great treat, itself! Thanks Tatay! hahaha!

~Homeric Hymn to Hera~

Writers represented Hera as constantly being jealous of Zeus's various amorous affairs. She punished her rivals and their children, among both goddesses and mortals, with implacable fury. She placed two serpents in the cradle of Heracles; she had Io guarded by a hundred-eyed giant; she drove the foster-parents of Dionysus mad, and tried to prevent the birth of Apollo and Artemis. Even Zeus usually could not stand up to her. Sometimes when he got angry, he chained her to the mountain of Olympus by fastening anvils to her feet. However, most of the time Zeus resorted to stratagems: he either hid his illegitimate children, or he changed them into animals.

Hera's main sanctuary was at Argos in the Peloponnesus, where she was worshipped as the town goddess. Also, in this town the Heraia, public festivities, were celebrated. Other temples stood in Olympia, Mycene, Sparta, Paestum, Corinth, Tiryns, Perachora, and on the islands of Samos and Delos.

The peacock (the symbol of pride; her wagon was pulled by peacocks) and the cow (she was also known as Bopis, meaning "cow-eyed", which was later translated as "with big eyes") are her sacred animals. The crow and the pomegranate (symbol of marriage) are also dedicated to her. Other attributes include a diadem and a veil. Hera is portrayed as a majestic, solemn woman.

There was this FB post that says, “Changeyour facebook profile picture to a cartoon from your childhood and invite your friends to do the same. Until Monday(Dec.6) there should be no human faces on facebook, but an invasion of memories. This is for violence against children”, which prompted me to google the first cartoon character from my childhood that came to mind. It was the Smurfs. Those little blue creatures in white turbans that lived in mushroom-like houses were one of my favorites 25 years ago. I used to watch their show with my cousin, Queenie. However, right after I published my new profile pic, my friend Bechay commented on my profile. She told me she also used to like and watch the Smurfs when she was little. Then she asked me about the other cartoon characters when we were kids. The ones with the rainbow. I asked her if she meant the Care Bears or Rainbow Brite.

Rainbow Brite. She was that little girl in pony tail that wore a rainbow painted dress with big shoes to match. I googled up images of her and what magical feelings they evoked in me. It was great to be reminded of that one thing that made childhood such a wonderful memory.... or so it seemed.

Rainbow Brite reminds me of something that had been kept in the corners of my sub-consciousness for so long. Here is the story.

I was, I think in first grade that time when Rainbow Brite was such a big hit. In school, a lot of kids had Rainbow Brite stationeries and sticker books. One day, a vendor came into class and showed a Rainbow Brite Sticker Book. I couldn’t even remember if that vendor was a he or a she. All I can remember was that ultimate desire to own a booklet, which siege me the whole day. The same ultimate desire that led me to lie to my parents --- an act that is haunting me until this very day.

When I got home, I told Tatay and Nanay that the booklet was a class requirement. It cost around P20.00. And at that time, such amount was hard to earn. I could still remember seeing Tatay ramaged through his pockets for coins and Nanay breaking her piggy bank just to come up with P20.00. The next day, I got my very own Rainbow Brite Sticker Book with some free stickers to start with. I felt so happy. I didn’t even remember caring about the disappointed look at my parents face when they saw what kind of booklet I bought.

But now, 23 years after, I feel this heaviness in my heart just thinking about what I’ve done. I wish I could turn back the time and take back that act. I know I should forgive myself. After all, what can one expect from a 6-year old? Still, I feel guilty. And since I may never get rid of that guilty feeling, I chose to be consoled my this thought:

Rainbow Brite proved me how much my parents were willing to go through just to give me the things that I need. She showed me how much I was being loved. 12.01.2010

I never was a Pacman fanatic—and that, despite being a true-blooded General. I was one of the unpopular few who bet on each of his passed opponents and smirked at his guts when he ran for a mayoral seat in our city. Now, as I watch him on screen, talking about the provincial hospital he plans to put up in the Province of Sarangani, I wonder if I was wrong not to vote for him three years ago. I wonder if Gensan might have been a whole lot different --- and better if it had been him who won.

I must admit that his victory over Antonio Margarito earned my respect and admiration over his skills as a boxer. That last match was the only fight I’ve watched from the very beginning to the last seconds. What’s more surprising was that, it was the only fight that I’ve rooted for him so passionately, I literally felt jitters and held on to my seat at the start of every round. I couldn’t exactly point out what brought about such change of heart. (Maybe it was because I was watching it in the company of non-Pacman fans and their almost scathing remarks on my “kababayan” got through my skin.) My brothers-in law were rooting for Pacman’s lost, claiming that he had finally met his match. I kept telling them that the Pacman couldn’t loose. After all, the whole world is practically praying for his victory (well, save those who were on the Tihuana’s side, my brothers-in law included). And yes, as it turned out, Pacman once again showed everyone he was still a force to reckon with inside the boxing ring. Judging from the way he trained (which was covered and aired several times before the fight), I have expected him to win it. I think those Freddie-Roach-remarks about Manny being distracted and not being at his best during his training were just tactics to deceive the opponent’s camp and to bring the people’s excitement on a higher level.

After the victory, Pacman arrived in the country with a grand welcome. He is now a congressional representative and seeing him in his expensive suit with his all made-up wife, Jinkee at his side, walking down a red carpet amidst flashing cameras and giddy fans, I couldn’t help but think, how in the world was a three-year-older-than-me undergraduate become one of the country’s congressman?! While Manny is rubbing elbows with politicians and famous people, I, who went through college in flying colors, am in the company of debit/credit memos, balancing the day’s transactions—working it out for a bank whose top ranking officials don’t even know I exist. While Manny Pacquiao, a guy who hasn’t even finished secondary school was reading a speech written for him by some unknown person in the congress hall, I, a once-student debater and editor-in-chief of the university’s student publication, am printing the end of day reports. The farthest I could get my articles published is my very own blogsite whose readers is limited to close relatives and friends (even so, they don’t even bother to check for updates until I tell them to do so). While Manny earns millions from endorsements, I have to work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week just to support my daughter’s monthly expense on formula and diapers. Life couldn’t get more ironic than that huh?! But wait!....While Jinkee Pacquiao lavishes on her diamonds and ultra-chic designer clothes, I, a once-beauty pageant finalist, settles down on cheaper online fashion dresses and fancy jewelry. Jinkee now graces magazine covers and huge tarpaulins, while the farthest my pictures get to be in print are our family albums, which are rarely seen and neatly stacked in our cabinets. I can laugh at this irony. But I couldn’t. Realty bites, don’t’ they say so? Come to think of it, I suddenly am beginning to realize that Manny Pacquiao’s unpopularity inside my heart is cause by my own selfish pride and no doubt, envy. I guess that I have viewed Manny (and his whole family) as inferior because of the scarcity of his educational attainment. It was hard for me to accept that “someone” like him could get as far as he has. He doesn’t have the right diction. He couldn’t even come up with a single flawless statement in English. I have always thought that those who are wealthy --- those who get rich and famous should be good in diction and pronunciation. They should be smart and fluent speakers. They shouldn’t be Manny Pacquiao or Jinkee or Dionisia. As I watched Noli De Castro interviewed Manny, a voice inside me taunted, --- “You are damn wrong, baby. Undergrads and non-eloquent people could get rich and famous too. Heck, they could even become politicians… look at that man on TV!”

I am aware that despite Manny’s popularity, there are still so many people, most of them Filipinos, who feel the same way I do. We laugh at Manny’s speech defects and Dionisia’s lack of elegance and grace. But come to think of it, if one just listens to their answers on the questions hurled at them by experienced journalist and showbiz hosts, I say that despite their handicap, the Pacquiaos are at their best – and that is, being just the way they are. No pretenses. No airs. Call me blinded by my newfound empathy towards them, but they are to me, a picture of truth in the midst of fallacies and conspiracies in our politics and show business. I know Manny is being truthful when he said he wanted to help the people in his district. I know he meant it when he said he would offer help to the Filipino athletes. I know he was speaking from his heart when he said he was against the Reproductive Health Bill. Call me mushy but he struck a cord in me when he said he doesn’t want his kids to do boxing, knowing how hard it was for him to get where he is now and knowing that not everyone gets to be as lucky as he is. That was spoken as a father, and though grudgingly, I admit that it made me see him in a whole new light. The Pacman does have a heart… and it beats just like mine. It beats for the common people. It believes in the abilities of every Filipino athlete. It has high regards for what is moral. It loves those who have been there ever since. ----- And all that, even without a college diploma to boast of.

I still have my doubts over Pacman’s ability to get everything he promised done for the people of Sarangani, though. But who knows, maybe one day, I’ll wake up with a whole new perspective on him as a public servant. For the mean time, I will just have to be content that I have finally changed my perspective on him as a boxer… --- and most of all, as a person. 11.26.2010