Let’s Kill…

Watching the movie Untraceable just a couple of days ago made me realize that my blog site’s title may appear threatening to innocent visitors that may have picked up some tags I had that captured their interest. I just realized that the word “Killing Time” may be taken as a pun of sort. I may not know it but I could have visitors ranging from innocent bloggers to eager killers or individuals that get their high by watching someone die, live or via the internet. Morbidly, the movie depicts such characters.  The villain here is portrayed as a disturbed young man who maintained a site named KillWithMe which is basically like a YouTube.com from hell. For the first time I can relate to the disclaimer at the end of every movie, “…any similarity…is purely coincidental…”

I don’t know but I picked this title out of thin air. During my registration at blogger.com, I was asked to give a name for my blog and this came out spontaneously. It may sound scary but “Killing Time” was inside the tell-tale light bulb as soon as it was turned on inside my head.  At that moment all I can relate to a blog is that IT is a good way to kill time – no pun intended whatsoever. Promise. Hehehehehe (Psycho music plays in the background).

Since I’m into giving some sort of review for this movie, I’ll finish it off with my rating. I rate this (wait this 3 words sounds familiar…ahhh job related…) movie 4 out of 5 stars. It has the scary factor of Disturbia, but with the oldie yet goodie Diane Lane this time in the basement. Needless to say this gave me another reason not to think of typical American homes at least for now.

Anyone want to kill with me?…Please just do blog. No more, no less (Psycho music keeps on playing in the background). Visit Killtimedoblog.blogspot.com. I swear I killed time with it and murdered some English (again, no pun intended) in the process.

(this blog reminds me of a friend who loves to say “Kill All Violence”, the most ironic and funny statement I’ve heard after Alf’s “I Kill Me”. Ti abi.)

   

I love her, I love her Not…

Chill out wifey…this petal-picking cliché is not for you. Well sort off. It’s for one of man’s invention which until know I wonder if there was a necessity for it to be invented but since it’s already here, I have to deal with it.

If I could have been asked of a list of one of my hated things, the videoke will surely be there. But then again just like any other things on earth this will have to depend on when or where I encountered it.  In short I have a love-hate relationship with this…let me call it embarrassing machine.

For me the videoke is actually like the eye. For me it’s the window the one’s self. I’ve discovered a liking to some people when I learned and heard them sing.  And my wife can decently sing any of The Coors song. And of course, synonymous to appreciating others sing the lines - appearing as foreground to mostly naked women gyrating on the background which usually challenges myself whether I’d hate it or not – is the loathing that I usually felt once most people starts singing their selected piece.

I’ve almost despise friends once I learned they’ve been into videokes. Just this December while on vacation I had a drinking session with my high school best friend and I almost scrambled out of the bar when I saw him checking the song list. “Oh, my lord…he must be kidding!”  But he’s not. Well to give him the benefit of the doubt I anxiously waited while the waitress punches in the magic numbers. I think I heard drum rolls when the song on queue started.

U2’s Sunday Bloody Sunday was his selection. I secretly glance at my friend just to give a quick check if he’s somewhat similar to Bono. Hmmm. Obviously not. The song’s intro finally signaled the start of the song. And then it happened. I almost cursed in protest and have actually wondered if my friend can be sued by U2 for performing their song in a public place. It wasn’t Sunday, but I’m sure it was Bloody – as the Brits will surely say. I’m sure I was drunk that time but the alcohol didn’t give me a favorable opinion.

Now I’m being hounded again by the presence of this singing machine. Just outside and in front of our house is a party in progress. And the magic box with TV monitor , round colored keys and 15-inch speakers was  just delivered. “Uh oh, we’re in for a long night.” My only hope right now is that no drunken male visitor will sing a Celine Dion song while we’re trying to sleep tonight. That is if we can actually sleep. Whoever invented this machine, I hope you’re in the “hot” place right now.

By the way, possessed by the spirit of alcohol I’ve actually sung a couple of songs on a videoke. And my fave are The Righteous Brothers’ You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling and 500 by the Proclaimers. Ti abi. Sometimes the good guy will have to give his revenge.

 

Balloon Fest’s Last Day

 

While my wife and I lined up at the event’s entrance gate, I heard over the PA system that there would be some delay in the morning’s program. Ironically, the wind that was supposed to make everything fly was the same wind that forced almost everything that flies grounded, at least for a while. So true enough, as we entered the area people were anxiously looking around and up as they wait for the show to continue.  (I noticed that this year’s attendance is better than last year’s, sadly there were less exhibitions this year.)

Moments later a rewarding sight came – the static line jump went through. The view of rounded gray chutes dropping side by side from a military cargo plane was just awesome. Back in the days, I assume, this view either sent hope or fear depending whose eyesight receives it.

There were several pauses again to wait for a tolerable wind speed and once the signal was given, the view overhead was filled with colorful skydivers’ canopies.  A number of sorties were made that pleased the whole crowd. Most were clapping as each skydiver flaired and landed one by one. Actually, since last year’s event, these skydivers, especially from the military had my respect. It was my perception then that most (my 1^st and last skydive instructor is a Colonel) of the good ones are civilians due to budget constraints on the government side. They proved me wrong however when I learned and saw that they can actually execute long freefalls and some can even perform stacking. I’ve never been so proud of the Philippine military.

What followed next are the aircraft exhibitions.  Seeing a helicopter fly and a couple of small planes speeding past at low altitude and climbing at a dizzying rate in preparation for a nauseating roll is always fascinating. In spite of my basic knowledge of aerodynamics (howstuffworks.com, anyone?), I still can’t help but ask the questions, “What makes it fly? Why and how does it fly?” and “who is the lucky one who flies it?” I’m always green with envy when I shoot this “who” question.

As the shadows went shorter with the sun climbing higher, I went into multitasking. I acted as Air Traffic controller, Weatherman and Psychologist. I was reading the wind cone, checking the air temperature while reading my wife’s gestures. It seems like there’s a direct link between the first two factors and my wife. She was cowering into the remaining shades and faking a sleep - a tell-tale sign of irritation and boredom. I acted fast - just as any sane husband would, I asked her if she’d like a break from the event. Her answer was clear. Few minutes later we’re at SM Clark’s Cabalen restaurant, eating buffet lunch. Wifey at this point is now full and smiling. I didn’t regret doing so either. The tapang kalabaw is remarkably soft and tasted good.

Past 12 noon, we decided to check the hotel which I booked online. There I realized, that it seems like I have a knack of picking comfortable but nevertheless weird accommodations. This time I booked us in Swagman Resort Hotel for an overnight stay. Good thing we got an upgrade. Instead of the standard room, the hotel clerk gave us the deluxe family room still for Php 1400. Nice. High five.

Waking up after a two-hour siesta in the hotel room, we hurriedly went back to the balloon fest site. As I approached the parking lot, I saw that the balloon bursting contest is on-going. Little did I know that by the time we got settled near at the shady hangar, I won’t be seeing any of it anymore. What I saw outside was to be the last leg of the contest. Grrr. The price I have to pay for a siesta. I also don’t know if we missed the synchronized kite flying & kite surfing too, but what I witnessed once again is Mr. Bill Wright’s aerobatics (not that I don’t like it) and several sets of skydiving exhibition. I’m hoping by the way, that next year, they’ll place a jumbo monitor for the crowd to witness videos of the freefalls.

 

Keeping the disappointment of missing (or expecting to see) some of the shows to myself, I continued shooting videos of what’s going around the exhibition ground. And then I heard an announcement that made me interested once more. An awarding ceremony is going to happen at the event’s control center. And the names that were paged sounded familiar, so I eagerly left my wife at her post to see the ceremony.

And there it was in front of me is Peter (PFSG founder) who won 3^rd place in the balloon bursting competition and Tonet (PFSG supremo). These are the guys I got to know and at least interact with online – Philskies.net (thanks of course to Mark, who by the way was with me last year. He gave me hangar access and I was able to see skydivers pack their canopies in front of us.) Surprisingly I was able to chat with Tonet (and his son, Carlo. Both of which are good pilots and bloggers), who in person is just as articulate as he is in his blog. Frankly speaking, I was star struck. Unknown to him, he is one of those who inspired me to have my own web log.

 

When I got back to my wife on her place in front of the hangar, I was actually thinking how I’m going to explain to her the lull in the exhibitions. No other reason I guess, but just to blame the windy condition. I tried convincing her to pose in front of the gun exhibits but to no avail. So we decided to stay still and entertain ourselves with whatever sight (met some colleagues in the process) is available around us. We can’t just go home yet, not until we see what I missed last year. And what we also missed this morning – the balloon flight and night glow.

Dusk came and the wind somewhat calmed down. One after the other, the hot air balloons inflated. Huge rounded canopies came into life. Around 20 different shapes and colors of balloons covered the horizon in front of us.  It was so massive that the last batch of skydivers and a lone Malaysian paraglider were dwarfed if not sidelined. And as if on cue everyone came near the fence to catch a glimpse of the spectacular sight. Every gadget that can capture pictures – from cell phone cameras to giant DSLRs – came out in unison to grab their own share of the scenic event.

With the feeling of accomplishing what we came here for, we headed back to our hotel together with the rest of the exiting crowd. It’s funny but I even find the sight of a hundred vehicles coming out of the parking lot on a very dusty trail a spectacle by itself.  The way going out of the area is so dusty that at some point there’s zero visibility and the only way to see the road again is to slow down in order to stay away from the vehicle in front of you until the dust settles down. Looking back, I saw a long trail of headlights waiting for their turn to reach the paved road.

Once we reached the hotel, we parked (worriedly) Mary in their weird parking lot and then tried the resort’s restaurant. And just as weird as the parking lot, we find ourselves having dinner in front of women who seemed to be practicing a dance routine. Deep in my mind, they’ll likely be wearing at least a swim suit come past 10 PM to the delight especially of the American customers. But fairly, we find the food great and of course needless to say, the beer is too. Cheers!

           

 

(note: pictures in this blog are either intentionally blurred or came out blurred from our point-and-shoot camera)

SNAFU to Clark’s Balloon Fest

“Very nice…High Five…” – Borat Sagdiyev

Having planned a road trip with wifey for quite some time even when we still have our trusty Kia Pride, the 12^th PIHABF (Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta) came as the perfect time and reason. I filed for a 2-day vacation leave from work a month ahead in anticipation of this event. And just like ants preparing for a rainy day, my wife and I went shopping for clothing, food and storage (buying a Coleman cooler justified) a day before we set off.

Feb 10. Past 3 AM. After filling Mary’s boot with the things we need, we excitedly started our trip. The early morning drive went well as expected. Traffic was light from Cavite to the NLEX entrance and in the back of my mind I was already imagining picking a good parking spot and a good vantage point for us to witness the balloon flight before dawn. I fought the urge to floor the pedal so as not to exceed the 100 KPH limit. But at some point I noticed the speedometer pointing at the 120 scale yet the Honda City stayed stable despite it. Realizing the car’s capability, the temptation to go faster became so strong but my sanity and the presence of the speed limit marks along the highway kept me from doing so.

By the middle of the trip we decided to stop by Total gas station in San Simon to fill in some gas. That’s when the most unlikely thing happened. It was as if someone played a bad joke on us. While waiting for the attendant to fill the tank to the brim, my wife and I decided to step out of the car. I grabbed some water in the boot while she picked something in the gas station’s store. Unconsciously, we both locked the doors with the car key still inside. A minute after I shut the boot door and as I was lazily stretching myself I heard the car alarm’s beep followed by the sound of a latching door lock. Damn, for a moment I think I saw myself turned pale. I almost cried out in despair. We are locked out!

After hopelessly trying to wake myself up as if in a bad dream, I started considering some options and eagerly asked help from the gas attendants and other people who also stopped for gas. The inputs ranged from the ridiculous (yet the most direct) shattering of the glass window,  to the tiring and frustrating trip back going to Cavite (a 60 km ride back) to grab the spare key and to the most viable yet costly (Php 1000) option of hiring a locksmith to do the job. Also considered was taking chances if other Honda car keys will match. That one didn’t work, as expected. For the first time I hated Honda’s wave key and alarm feature.

The thought of missing the balloon fest (and ruining our trip) made me decide to seek the locksmith’s –who was referred to us by one of the gas boy - assistance so I called him up. I was greeted by man on the other end of the line sounding a bit irritated (I understand the feeling of being awakened early Sunday morning) yet he was kind enough to encourage me to keep on trying by opening it through the door handle using a stiff wire to reach into the lock. The mixture of desperation, thought of a Hazard Pay’s episode (Discovery TV show), a welding rod wire and persuasion from my wife seemed to work together after that conversation.

And after an hour of trial and error, the lock tab popped. To say I shouted for joy would be an understatement. Upon checking my watch, I learned that we’ve been locked out for almost 2 hours already. So without wasting another minute we continued our trip but only after dropping along their way home the two gas boys who stayed with us until their night shift ended. They were our cheering team during the whole ordeal. My wife and I exchanged congratulations several times on our way to Dau. We kidded ourselves as being able to be in cahoots as carjackers. Honda City owners beware.

We arrived in the Balloon fest area by past 7 AM, tired but glad we still made it. Parking far from the entrance gate didn’t matter anymore. Just being at the site bustling with people from various sex and ages gathered (or forced to, mostly by either husband or kids) with one interest – to watch an event featuring “everything that flies” – is satisfying enough.

continue…Balloon Fest’s Last Day.

Mother of Re-invention

I was trying to catch up on my multiply.com friends (I already had 90 unread updates) and once again I became curious on what’s new in the lomo world. Unfortunately nothing has been updated as I back track the site of an online buddy. It must have something to do with film developing time (?).

Since I’ve known digital photography and had eventually become an enthusiast or more aptly a fan, the discovery (thru time-killing-googling) of the lomo world never fails to fascinate me. I always wonder who in their right mind would buy an old film camera, spend money, of course, on films and then take the pain to queue at the developing centers and go back to get it at least an hour later. Some of the reasons I can think of are: they have friends in that store, they own the store, they haven’t heard of digital cameras yet. Cost is not in my list. Some of the old film cameras are more expensive than their digital counterparts.

Once again the questions linger. “Why lomo? Why not buy a digital camera instead? What’s the catch?”

Soon after I realized that embracing the old stuffs is not new (pun intended). There are things such as retro, new wave (ironically this genre is already old music), vintage, classic…and yes, lomo. If necessity is the mother of invention, then scarcity is the mother of re-invention – either of which will bring profits to the inventor and “re-inventor.” Moolah.

Some people are just born to sense that something is becoming scarce (and still needed) and have the ability to make the most out of it. And I’m not talking about hoarders. I’m talking about those people who value their things well and still believe in its potential. For lomo, it’s the potential to bring the feeling of nostalgia. It’s the potential to break away from the rules of photography.

That’s what I find good about lomo. It technically doesn’t have any rules. It’s photography’s “rebel without a cause.” And these cameras are deceiving. That is, they look like your typical yaya’s day-off cam but it can capture good photos if you know how to deal with it.

It’s funny but I actually tried looking for our old rusty film camera at home (while on vacation on Dec ’07) thinking that I can still use it. My excitement died down when I discovered that it uses a film that made the photo center sales lady smile when I inquired about it. She must be thinking I’m from out of this world. Ti abi. I think I’ll have to get my dose of lomo from those who are into it already just like I leave my craving for digital quality shots to my DSLR-addicted friends.