Road Trip

The road hums a wistful song, while the passing trees, powers lines, and scenery plays like an old movie in my hazy field of vision. I am safely buckled in my seat, while we whiz down the interstate. The car’s trunk is loaded, but not nearly as full and cluttered as my mind is.

My daughter and I are going on a road trip.

It is hard to imagine that it was more than 50 years ago now, when my daughter and I went on our first long trip. We went camping in a distant national park, and even though we stayed there only two nights, we packed our car full. We brought almost everything, except the house itself – the propane stove, the tent, the air mattresses, pillows and comforters, folding chair and tables, and even a portable heater.

When I fastened my little girl on her car seat when we embarked on that trip, she mildly protested. It seemed like we stopped on every rest area for a bathroom break, as my daughter claimed she needs to go. But maybe it was just her ploy to get out of her car seat. And yes, she asked a million times, “Are we there yet?”

It was a fun trip though.

It was more than 30 years ago now also, that I took my daughter on another long road trip. We drove for several hours to another nearby state. The car was overloaded with many things, like the electric fan, microwave oven, television, vacuum cleaner, a closet-full of clothes, and my daughter’s big cello. That was when I dropped her off to college.

She was so excited to go to the university and to be on her own. I guess she views it as independence. My heart was heavy all the way through that trip. Even though it was a long drive, I don’t want it to end. For I know that when we reach our destination, I would be leaving her behind and may not see her again for several weeks. Perhaps months. But she has to go and leave the nest, and make a mark of her own in this world. I get that.

Of course she made it through college. And beyond.

Now we’re together again on another road trip. Except that I am not in the driver’s seat anymore. I am just the passenger and my daughter is driving.

She said that I cannot live by myself anymore in our old big house. And I agree, since her mother left for heaven, I am really lost and lonely. She is taking me to a place to be closer to her.

She told me that I don’t need most of my stuff, just the bare essentials. For in the place where we will go, it has everything I need, she said. I don’t need much stuff anyway. The most precious things I used to have, I already lost them.

Funny that people say that my memory is getting bad. That my mind is already playing tricks on me. That I don’t remember things anymore. Like where I placed my glasses or even my dentures. Or who is Mr. or Mrs. so and so, people they say I should know. And yet, why do I remember all these nostalgic memories so vividly?

I know this may be my last road trip. For I can barely walk without any assistance anymore. I cannot even feed myself without spilling food on my lap and all over the floor. And that’s why I am going to this “big house” with all the help available, with some other old forgetful people like me. I hope my daughter will visit me there often.

It’s nice to be on the road again. To feel the wind and the sun on my face again. If only this road trip would not end.

photo taken in some back road in Iowa

(*This short story is written as a fiction. And hopefully will stay as fiction.)

The Adventures of Iowa Jones

Have you heard of Indiana Jones? Forget him. I introduce to you, Iowa Jones and his (mis)adventures. Here is his quest to find the Lost Temple of Doom.

It started in a deserted place forgotten by time.


A place where the terrain was so alien, it’s out of this world. Could it be in another planet?


Then Iowa Jones came to a path that seems to be blocked by a stone wall.


But as he inspected it closer there was a narrow passageway, as if it’s a secret path through the stone walls.


So he pressed on and walked through the unknown path. What danger could be lurking ahead? Would there be a big Rolling Stone? Or maybe giant Beetles? Would he meet Mick Jagger or Paul McCartney? Huh?


Anyway, some of the stones seems to have caved in. Were the stone walls moving? Would he be crushed to his death?


While some of the passageway seems to be so clear that it was even lighted by the sun rays.


Iowa Jones even took short rest under the stones to catch his breath.


But he knew that he must hurry as the dreaded army of the Last Crusaders of Doom was pursuing him.

Iowa Jones must also avoid the booby (poopy?) trap that were scattered on the path.

These booby traps are left by the Last Crusaders’ fierce beast the Donkey Kong.


Even though tired and weary, Iowa Jones continued on his quest.


Then he came near a clearing. He now has a glimpse of the temple!


Finally he now stands in awe in front of the Lost Temple of Doom.


Then he saw the Guardians of the Galaxy, I mean the Guardians of the Temple. They were assigned to protect it against the army of the Last Crusaders of Doom.


They warned Iowa Jones that the temple should not be rediscovered by the army of Doom, or else the whole kingdom of Camelot (not reigned by King Arthur, but by camels) will be doomed. Good thing he understands and speaks their ancient language.

So with all his might Iowa Jones toppled down the temple like Samson, without the long hair, of old.


Alas, it was not a Temple of Doom, but rather it was a Doomed Temple.

And all that was left were ruins. The End.


This story was brought to you by the jet-lagged brain of Pinoytransplant.


(Photos taken at The Treasury in Petra, Jordan, a site named as one of the seven wonders of the world, built more than 2000 years ago. And with Pinoytransplant as Iowa Jones.)

I’m Writing a Book

After lengthy deliberation, I am finally taking the plunge.

slide.001

photo taken at Grand Canyon

 

No, not that plunge.

It’s time for a change. I am quitting my day job!

I am going to be a full-time writer!

I have decided that I will write a book. I have already in contract with Visprint, Inc., the publisher of the widely successful Bob Ong, author of “ABNKKBSNPLAko” and “Stainless Longganisa” among others.

Besides the articles that I have already written on this blog that will be adapted into a book (title: Ang Pagbibinata ng Butiking Walang Dingding), I will also venture on writing fictions.

Why fiction? What qualifications do I have to write this genre?

Consider my resumé:

1. Wrote a book report in high school about an obscure and unheard book, which of course I completely made up. I got an A for the report. Not bad, right?

2. Wrote a case study in Social Science while in college. It is about the struggles of a social deviant in our society, that I interviewed and followed. Except that, that person is non-existent. A fictitious character! I also got an A for it.

3. Published a research paper in medical school about the ill effects of holding a fart, and the benefit to health of letting your gas out unabashed. Of course, the science that back this study is full of air! Sorry for the pun, it is intended. The study was published in a major scientific paper.

So there, I’m fully qualified to be a fiction writer.

And lastly, this article is a just figment (though some may be true?) of my wild imagination.

Happy April Fool’s Day!

slide.001

photo taken at Madame Tussauds Wax Museum, Hollywood