Saturday, October 3, 2009
if someone named you 'Ondoy' you'd probably get mad too
September 26, 2009.
Ondoy came to town. Furious.
Like someone on the receiving end of a bad haircut. Like the boy named Sue. Like a man whom someone just named Ondoy. (The international code name is Ketsana but there is a group in the Philippines whose job is to come up with another name for it. These people obviously have a lot of time on their hands.)
Rolled everything in it's path. Opened the skies wide and poured drums of water. A month's worth of torrential rain came rushing down in six hours. Flashfloods, the likes of which the area has never seen before, literally flushed the shi* out of metro Manila and beyond.
It extinguished lives and devastated many more. It exposed the government's mechanism for immediate response and rescue in such a calamity - basically none.
(Later, the government group responsible for such actions came up with the song and dance that their responsibility, and capability I assume, lies in the wake of the storm- the distribution of relief goods, primarily noodles. NDCC stands for Noodles Distribution Committee following a Catastrophe.)
We have to remember this: With all the things we do to it, with all the abuse and affronts we keep throwing at it with impunity, and all the warnings that go unheeded, once in a while comes nature's turn.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
August 1914
The title is but a red herring. This is not about a book by Solzhenitsyn.
If anything this is more about: ' Of all the clubs, in all the cities, in the whole world, she had to walk into mine.' But it's not about movies. It's not Casablanca.
But of all the places, in all the cities I have been to, in the world...
AUGUST 1914
She walked in...and later on walked away. But in between...
Well, we'll always have Paris.
This post is cryptic but not fictive.
If anything this is more about: ' Of all the clubs, in all the cities, in the whole world, she had to walk into mine.' But it's not about movies. It's not Casablanca.
But of all the places, in all the cities I have been to, in the world...
AUGUST 1914
She walked in...and later on walked away. But in between...
Well, we'll always have Paris.
This post is cryptic but not fictive.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Friday, July 31, 2009
Friday, July 24, 2009
a bridge too far
from the rim of the lake, a gently winding stretch of highway 232 (this is closed in winter) merges with 138 and you turn right to proceed east. this stretch of 138 is rather peculiar in one way: at about 5000' it is only a few hundred feet lower than crater lake's rim and still in a deeply forested wilderness, but from this point until it abuts with highway 97, it cuts straight as an arrow. and that's where it ends.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
short summer drives
Crater Lake National Park
It's 100 degrees in the valley; time to get out of the kitchen if you can't stand the heat.
I stop at the bank for some cash and to get a pin number for my card. It's Friday so she, the banker, starts with ' What are your plans for the weekend?'
Get out of this heat.
I know, I'm going to Florida myself. What about you?
I'm driving but haven't made up my mind where to go. I'm all packed with nowhere to go. I think I'll spin a bottle, see where it stops and start from there.
After a brief revolution, the bottle points to the east. I take east 62. On the map, it's not a designated scenic drive but it leads to Crater Lake which is a National Park
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