A MICROCOSM OF A FUTURE ROADIE SIDESHOW
By: Iris P. Concepcion

As people yacked about the state of pusons, hair and nails in staggering, unequivocal fashion of the greatest, a lot of noise came up on a street.

Noise of working men.

I have seen all sorts of cement mixers. I think they are building a............building.

A nephew of mine had always been so fascinated with all these huge trucks: Vakhoe (spelling) and payloaders that he inserted his own lanky body underneath a truck one time just to watch its mechanical innards.

It is especially important that construction workers eat good food also: the toilers spread and thus plied the street with their luscious kakanins that are quite priced steeply. Normally, they buy food from where I normally take my lunch.

I was in awe of these massive objects that grinded fast. There was no smoke from where they were cement steaming. I guess, they used these marvelous things in my town(superb quality, finished in less than a year). It is really better than a Kubrick film. I get my hormonal wows when people put their sweat to blue collar work in achieving dreams, delivered in this non-diversionary, quality way.

I have not much time for small chatter on pigments and warts. I prefer seeing men buckling down to work with minimal time frame. They actually eat vegetables a lot. Lots of water too. And they just, simply, do.

Thus, I take it corporeally personal when they pick on this present President with "tsu". I do not mind getting this flak, it is my badge for speaking out loud sometimes.

Somehow, I forget the taunt and like my nephew, I am starting to fall in love with these gadgets of real builders.