If a man writes a better book, if he can preach a better sermon, if he can make a better candlestick than anyone else, though he make his home in the woods, the world will beat a trodden path to his door.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
I was awed by the finale performance of Phil Collins, it was also a farewell gesture to his 30 years of professional career as a jazz artist. Music artists with a kind of dedication like Collins is rare to find nowadays. He started as a drummer of the band, the Genesis, with their lead vocalist Peter Gabriel, that was 1973. From his humble beginning as a low profile drummer to becoming a top performing music artist for almost 3 decades. And on his last performance, he gave credit to everyone, including those truck drivers who drove them from one city to another, those lighting technicians responsible with those stage lights, the band members, those unknown crews who were responsible on some non-technical preparations before any of his concerts begin. Collins' songs such as Another Day in Paradise, Against All Odds and Separate Lives were all hit makers and I wonder why he decided to call a quit on such a flourishing career. I cannot speculate on his personal reasons but what I know is that Collins had made many of us his fans perpetually in love with jazz music and on his last performance song, Always, he bowed out of the limelight. Here is that Phil Collins' finale song:
At the age of 15 he left his hometown of Loon in Bohol and joined his uncle to work as a cook on a small fishing boat with a crew of twelve.They sailed over the seas of Palawan, Masbate and in some parts of Luzon, in Quezon, catching fish in the deep seas. They had used salt rocks as preservatives for their catch since ice blocks were still unavailable during those days. They had stored their catch on those tin containers called "taro", putting those salted fish popularly known then as "tinabal" in bisaya, which they sold at the ports of Cebu.
That was the peaceful years of 1930s and my Lolo joyously shared to me his sea sailing adventure during those days. It was 1933, their fishing boat had reached the shore of Davao City, Lolo Apiong had decided to leave his sailing adventure for good and scouted his destiny in his new found place in Bunawan, Davao City. Thick forest had greeted him and on this, he boasted about his extraordinary feat of clearing 50 hectares of forest land, he conquered those aged frontier flora, cutting down 30 inches-diameter tall trees using ax in bare hands, hardwoods of now extinct species: Apitong, Lawa-an, the rare redwood Narra, Yakaland hardwood Tugas. Although a self-confessed novice farmer, it was that grinding school of hardknocks had made him acquired such dogged persistence and place his bet on farming. His vast farm produce testified of his diligence and industry, it earned the admiration of my lola, a 1936 debutante of Catmon, Cebu, and was considered by my Lolo in fisherfolks' words- "a prize catch".
My Lola passed away at the age of 90 years old.Today my Lolo turns 95 years old and I'm proud of his determination and perseverance, I still enjoy his crisp memory of unstoppable storytelling about details of his youthful days adventure. I remember this song aptly sung by Five for Fighting entitled, 100 years. How I wish, Lolo could still be around for another 5 years and be seen by the Third generation of his great grandchildren. Here is that song:
Five for Fighting "100 Years"
It's great that I still have the time to make this blog about him, about his youthful days, the saga of his sailing adventure, his inspiring triumph over frontier difficulties, his humble beginning as an abaca plantation worker of a Japanese entrepreneur in Barrio Lasang. The eldest son among the nine (9) siblings of the late Maximo Masillones and Maximina Sevilla -Masillones, our patriarch, he was blessed with 8 children, 2 of which had already passed away,and a grandpa to almost two scores of grandchildren. Our great Lolo, a true blue Bol-anon, Serapio "Apiong" Sevilla Masillones.
The old brook called Dalumpinas. Between the towering peaks of Kiotoy, a barangay of Panabo City, there lies a brook that measures 25 meters long. It was an aged brook as one could observed the layers of rocks and granites that were formed by its water's force for the past countless years on its banks. Together with local farmers, I trekked the shallow simmering rivulet, from its head up to the tail end. I am glad that I wore my leather boots, wallowing on the streams, hopping over mossed boulders and flat hard bedrocks.Its prestine water brooding through those sands and pebbles is refreshing to see, running through and sustaining many life forms along the banks. From the look of it, the brook had sustained variety of plant species for the past innumerable years. I was told that this brook got its name when a Japanese soldier during WWII, wearing his military boots, stepping on a slippery moss- laden flat boulder, he accidentally slipped off and hit his head on the granite bedrock which caused his sudden death. It was then that his fellow soldiers called this brook Dalumpinas, on this someone hinted that Dalumpinas could perhaps mispronounced by those Japanese soldiers from the original Visayan word "dakin-as". Until peacetime, the Aetas and Manobos in the place continued to call this brook as Dalumpinas which runs down towards the big Tagactac river, an intersection of 4 barangays namely, Mabunao, Sta. Cruz, Kiotoy and Katualan. In the older days, where brooks, creeks and rivers were once the rendezvous of barrio folks, these are mute witnesses on the untold stories of the countrysides and its glorious past.
I was an avid listener to this legendary radio broadcaster and entertainer from DZRH, Tiya Dely Magpayo, whose opening lines in her radio program: "Ang Kasaysayan sa Mga Liham sa Inyong Tiya Dely", I always missed. I grew up with listening to the transistor radio as the favorite past time in the family during the late 70's. That small transistor radio powered by a 3 volts battery cell, was the only source of entertainment during those days. Tiya Dely Magpayo had been on air for almost 68 years, last 2008 she finally left us her listeners, and her program permanently went off the air. She was considered by many as the Queen of Philippine Radio Broadcasting. She had witnessed those broad spectrum of social transformation in this country, spanning from the American commonwealth government, the Japanese occupation and those dark days of Marcos dictatorship. Her signature voice had been cherished by many Filipinos for the past six decades. I too have witnessed how my old folks have patronized her popular radio program, Ang Kasaysayan sa Mga Liham sa Inyong Tiya Dely and at the end of such program, their musical scoring theme song, sung by Kenny Rankin, entitled What Matters Most was played always. I love this song and I was amazed that this song was unexpectedly sung by a friend during my wedding. Here is that song with its lyrics:
What Matters Most - Kenny Rankin
Tiya Dely Magpayo, the legendary radio broadcaster and entertainer adored by many Filipinos, always .
Kite flying is one childhood adventure I enjoyed so much. Making my own kite out of used cellophane bags, employing coconut straws as frame and tying it with rubber bonds, all were done creatively. Loosing up those nylon threads from net bag as a string for the kite, and keeping it from parents' knowledge was always the case. Testing its flying worth into a vacant rice field just a minute walk from our house, then and there my kite was launched.
As my kite soars up high, riding on the surge of the wind there was one traditional practice that goes with kite flying, of which, I wonder if science has an explanation. Taught to me by my old folks, the practice has never found any known scientific reasoning. Wind is important in kite flying and the absence of it can be frustrating for us kids back then. Of this trouble, we were taught that wind can be summoned. Yes, wind can be summoned and invited to come by means of a whistling sound.
Whenever our kite, up in the air ceased to surge upward, we call on wind by a whistle sound to lift our plummeting kite. Old folks used to summon wind during rice harvest in the sieving of rice kernels, separating the chaff and unwanted weeds. They also call on winds through whistle for fresh air in order to remove the dry and hot air during noon time. Today, the practice of calling wind, depicting a master calling his servant for a task to perform is still around.
Modern knowledge will try to label this phenomenon in the category of paranormal activity, others may call it ESP( extra sensory perception). Whatever is the modern explanation about that practice, but one thing I always cherish and remember was the fun brought about by those kite flying adventure and the discovery of such extraordinary authority to bid for nature's cooperation on human activity.