COMMON DENOMINATOR
By: Iris P. Concepcion
The clinking of payloaders hummed the roars of vehicles as I alight expecting a downpour in the street.
A dessert has suddenly sprung, enabling the workers to fix things overtime, drenched in sweat, toiling for a country on the brink of a deliverance outburst.
A kid is calling an apple mango; another one writes A instead of an implored plea to write the letter H.
A pimple erupts on a woman's right nostril, its hole swirling, gathering booger overnight. It is her new hobby: picking it up.
A closer look at the world bears watching as it unfolds and unfurls a secret of hushed job completions. The envious of the lot give snide remarks to the fixed structures, embarrassed that these were done. The gall to aspire for improvements when we could endure the potholes for over 50 years.
There is only one thing coming out productively out of this: piercing the corporate veil has been literally defrocked. The once mighty are no longer that invisible. When the funny silliness came out, the myth of superiority was rendered meaningless.
Appropos to the current buzz on streets, jobs and counter jobs abound. For all the ingenuity of persistence, there, triumphs the compounding reasons why it is worth walking and trodding for. Somewhere along the intersections, you find commonality with these people in their quest for order and common decency. One of my Dads has told me a story about walking to a building that no one knows he owns. I now see his wisdom, his abhorrence and refusal to use an overpriced wallet.
Here, threats do not count except this propensity to debug what had been bugged.
In the end everyone wins in this war of deliverance. Not everyone sees it that way but is is a worthwhile climb to conversion; of making sense out of things; of revelling on transformation and renewal.
Blogging has never been this much of a reward but it pays off in the end.
Meanwhile, the stretch of Dapitan, at the back of my alma mater, had been elevated. I am glad the materials are of high quality. The cement is as thick as my pride and it is a beaut. You have to see it for yourself and know how it is done. It had been mocked on but these wizards of corns just sipped the dirt off and went on improving it. Indie governance (NDe and Gal brands) had never been this upfront.
Also this morning, I saw an end to manual street sweeping. The blue vehicle rolled, converting itself into an instant broom picking automatically the dirt and garbage off the road. Those who resist are usually the stuck tricycles parking on blocks who do not have zoning ordinances. This moving vehicle is cute as a cool toddler. It bears the waste management bureau signage which likewise gets the garbage consistently called Leonel or something like it.
If you are a voracious reader like me, there is likewise an interesting ad on wine stories that culled its source from happyaprilfoolsday.com. I know its writer because he is butt-crazy like me.
It could enliven your day to no end.