Generation Gap

I always thought that I was a cool mom, and that my children were proud of me because we were on the same 'wavelength'. The relationship was not that of someone in authority over juveniles but rather like 'dudes/dudettes with limitations', after all, I am still a parent.

It was only many years into motherhood, that the tide shifted from that of a disciplinarian ally, to being that of a submissive follower. One time as we were on our way out for dinner, my daughter insisted I change my wardrobe. “Why?” I asked.
“you look old and your colors are not coordinated.'
“who cares, “ I said,
“WE DO!!!” cried my husband and children in unison.

I'm not a fashionista, so I guess it was more for their sake of facing embarrassment than my being criticized as having no taste. Oh, and speaking about taste and intelligence, my husband and I would have countless debates on who was the smarter person. But in the end, I would concede that my hubby was the more intelligent one and the one with taste, after all, he married me.

Even when it came to music, I thought my kids and I were synchronized. We were woodstock baby boomers, and today's head banger music is no comparison to the led zepilin and jimi hendrix of our days. To me, music is universal and therefore had no barriers, but I guess I was wrong because when I asked my son if he wanted to watch a concert, our conversation went something like this.

“Isaiah, you want to go see the APO? They're good you know.”
“Who are they, mom?” asks Isaiah. (my 21 year old son is clueless about this group)
“ You know, they're those three funny guys who sing and dance and tell jokes.”
“am I suppose to know them?” ask my son.
“YES! They're icons of the pinoy music industry, they're famous, anak!.”
“what do they sing? English, bisaya or tagalog.” asks my son.
“they sing English, but mostly tagalog, and I think they did some bisaya songs for fun.”
“but I have a hard time understanding tagalog, mom” he said, “and why should I see them?”
“because one of them is my friend and I want you to.” I said.
“Oh! Now I know who those three guys are. And which one is your friend?” He says.
“The tall cute one.” I answered.
“Ah you mean Tito and the other two are Vic and Joey.” said Isaiah ......... I fell off my chair.!



Two weeks ago, I posted in facebook some pictures of the Philippine parade in New York City. The TFC float featured young stars, whom I had no idea as to their identity, but my friends knew them as a Sarah G. and a Christian B. Then a week later, I posted again pictures of the Puerto Rican parade where a picture of a famous rapper I photographed whom I later found out was a p. diddy.....diddy know him at all is what I can say.

I normally take it when my kids call my attires baduy or my music bakya, but when they start ridiculing me that 'am old' I say---”WAIT A MINUTE!!!” But then when I reflect that life is indeed moving too fast at a speed I can't even keep up with, I now think twice.

Being termed as 'old' has its advantages, it depends how you perceive it to be. For one thing, your secrets are safe with your friends because they won't be able to remember them either. And besides, experience is the best resume just like the best wine and fruit cakes taste excellent when aged.
And before I end let me make you smile by reading this:

Having been playing outside with his friends, a small boy came into the house and asked, “Grandma, what is it called when two people sleep in the same room and one is on top of the other?”
His grandma was surprised to hear such a forthright question from a six year old but decided to answer as honestly as she could. “Well,” she said hesitantly, “it's called sexual intercourse.”
“Oh okay,” said the boy, and he ran outside to carry on playing with his friends.
A few minutes later, he came back in and said angrily, “ Grandma, it isn't called sexual intercourse. It's called bunk beds. And Jimmy's mom wants a word with you.!”

Surprises! Surprises!

Today is to be my dad's 80some birthday, and I was suppose to surprise him with a phone call. However, he surprised me instead. AGAIN! This facebook has its way of startling you with the unexpected.

After my morning rituals done, I sat my mug of espresso and logged on to check my emails. I was perplexed at someone who wanted to befriend me and included a note asking about my dad . Apparently, she had longed to know of her maternal grandfather, and the video my brother posted plus my essay seemed to resonate. She gave me details and finally inquired if my dad was her long lost grandfather.

As I read her note, my jaw dropped realizing that indeed her mother was the long lost child my dad wanted to find but didn't have any idea of her whereabouts. Instead, they found us.

Surprises are the spices of life. Whether they be fun, perplexing or unpleasant, they still come in many packages. Mine came in astonishing disbelief. The memories we have can only be triggered by the emotions it carries with it.

Male infidelities or promiscuity is not without its share of thrills in unwanted delusions. More often than not, it is not surprising for a woman's anticipation of a child. After all, she is part of the act and it is her body that can only bear witness to the coming of life. But for a man, his seed can be thrown, without him knowing if it blossomed or not. Such is the biology of life.

Earlier in my married life, I've tried some tricks on my husband to see if he had any flings or affairs on the side. One favorite prank I did was to wake him up in the middle of the night, while he was sleeping. I then whispered his ear, “Sir, mata na. Uli na sa inyo, basin naghuwat na si Misis.” (Sir, wake up. Go home. Your wife is waiting) He didn't budge at first, and I kept poking him. “Sir, mata na lagi, basin di na ta ka usab. Uli na diha, bah!”(Sir, wake up. We might not be able to repeat this. Go home!!!)

To which he would just turn on his side and say, “saba diha! Tulog na oy!” (shut up and go to sleep!)Then he would turn his back on me. I've always wondered what that meant? Should I give meaning that he doesn't have any side kicks? Or is he too smart for such indecencies...One never knows.

Last week, my son wrote on his Wall , “I live in a world full of stories.” Indeed, everyone has a story to tell. And it is only through our memories that we can relate to those stories. As I ponder and write many an amazing anecdotes, I realize that the stories we recall, are those that carry emotions with it. They are the ones we remember that changes our lives, redirect our intentions and shape our destinies.

There is nothing new in life that has not been experienced. Names, places and dates have only been changed but the wheels of human emotions, beings and experiences have always been a continuous existence.

Celebrities are not spared from such scrutinies, but simple people like us have as much intrigues by our neighbor's gossips or by the society we associate ourselves in. Some are more secretive about their lives than others, but as for me, I always believed that how painful or fun filled a life we have, the truth shall always set us free