Going Up?

(A Short Story)
                                                                           I

         'Goodbye Sweetheart', Fred half-whispered over the phone, gently replaced the receiver, then stood from his chair and walked toward the glass panel.  Surely, George Clooney can't be more handsome than this general manager, he smiled to himself, not a bit caring whether or not this was pride or just innocent musing. .  All too suddenly, though, he rushed out of his office to the elevator across the corridor.... only for him to flash a look of irritation.  The elevator had gone up!  As if someone turned the moon up-side-down, he frantically dashed down the corridor toward the staircase.  He had to be on the second floor before the elevator reached it.  He barely caught his breath when next, he raced up the winding stairs to the second floor of the building.  God, make that elevator wait for me, he almost shouted in his mind.  Should anyone have wondered if this was the highly respected businessman he saw running this wild.......!!!  But up the stairs ...as he now desperately slid his way to the elevator,  heaven turned the lights red!  It was going up the third floor again!!!   Oh shucks, he had to give up.  Missed again!  and surely, she was up there already.  He couldn't stop himself from punching the air.  Just then, an attractive young lady casually walked from the other end of the corridor riffling through a set of papers in her hands.  She wasn't in green so she couldn't be Linda.  'But she's charming',  he silently commented.  It was a consolation, too, that someone else was going to be around while he waited for that heck of an elevator to come down again.   He was going to get even with it if it was the last thing he had to do on earth.

                                                                           II

        Linda looked at her blue outfit.  On the phone just moments ago, she gave in to the temptation to say  'I'm in a green dress today.  Why?'   And then she smiled,  probably at the answer from the other end of the line.  A couple of seconds after, she spoke again. 'Well, I'll have to deliver a bunch of contracts to be signed at Rm 314 right away so I'm going to have to hang up now, okay?'.  Once again, a smile beamed on her lips and she put down the receiver.  Simultaneously as the line was perhaps being severed, a long crashing noise filled the office.  But just as instantly as she was startled, she heaved a sigh of relief when she saw it was only a pile of books that caused it.  The  telephone wire got caught at the eastern book end sending all the things down the floor.  And Linda had to arrange them back on her desk  before she could leave the room, - papers in her hands.  Down the corridor, she saw the elevator had gone up already.  'Twas that phone wire',  she reproached  herself.  'Otherwise, I should be up there by now'!.  And she remembered how she jokingly lied to Fred about the color of her dress that she couldn't help feeling being punished for it and well.  But it was done.  Now she was aware of the man obviously waiting for the elevator too but she was more intent on the contracts she had just made.
                                                                         III

        Paramount Building was a 7-storey business-commercial edifice. Things within its walls spelled Punch-in at-nine, Break-at-twelve, Punch-out-at-five, day in and day out.  That is, of course, except when the sales charts sky-rocketed to the ceiling or when they zoomed down to the floor.  Nothing just seemed to happen.  Until one day when the calendar read October 20 and Fred's phone rang.  This was one of the days when he thought it rude to matter-of-formly answer 'Sorry-wrong-number!'  and so he politely entertained the voice from the end;  -tactfully told her that she was calling the wrong number.  He also found out  that she was Linda, secretary in Rm 207, and she in turned learned that he was Fred, general manager in Rm 107.  Consequently, this acquaintance eventually developed into mutual fondness for each other until a short call was added to their daily schedules.   Somehow it ended there.  They were only a floor apart but neither bothered to know how either of them looked like.  Neither of them was that curious nor interested for that matter.  But they did look forward to hearing each other's voices.  Just that.  And this came about several months ago.   Strange however that today Fred suddenly became interested in how Linda looked like.  Didn't she say she was in green?  Going up to the third floor right now?  And he had to admire the looks of him first and second to race with time like mad!
                                                                          IV

        So the elevator had gone up.  To Fred, chances were Linda had reached the third floor.  Little did he know of how things had actually gone.  Anyway he thought, when it brings her down again, she'll walk out and finally, I'll see her.  He waited.  He fidgeted.  And the cigarette between his fingers seemed to burn out a little faster than usual.  On the other hand, Linda was taking her time reviewing the papers she held.... and taking her punishment - her share of the waiting.  At last the elevator opened, once again demanding the attention of the two.  Fred especially.  Eagerly he tried to single out Linda from the handful of people that walked out but there was no lady in green.  She's still up there, he supposed, and he went in after the lady in blue. Turns out  they were the only ones going up.  As the elevator started to ascend, Linda suddenly discovered a typographical error in one of the contracts.  She frowned.  Instinctively and loudly she complained, 'This  should have been nine, not seven, stupid!'.  At about the same time, Fred noticed her frown and offered her, 'May I help you, Miss?'  And both of them stopped short!  They stared at each other.  To both minds, a very familiar voice was ringing.  But they weren't by the phone!  'It must be him,' she thought......"It is she!', he suspected.  Their eyes continued to linger but gradually on a level of tentative but positive conclusion.  Fred wanted her to talk just once more.  As naturally as he could, he reached for his back but actually pressed a button to make the elevator stop in between floors.  This, however, didn't escape Linda.  Of course she also wanted to hear his voice again  so she didn't mind it.  Her left hand held her pen but she slowly slid it into one of her pockets,  got hold of the papers from her right  and with this right hand, started going through her pockets for one.  'I've got to correct this first', she muttered, at which Fred gave her his pen.  'You can have this, Linda', he said smilingly.  She didn't try to suppress her smile anymore.  She took the pen, carefully managed to rectify the error then returned it with a  'Thanks, Fred!  Now you can press the button again.'  And she joined him in soft laughter.  The sudden upward motion of the elevator threw her off balance into his arms -arms that readily caught her.  The next instant, however, had to make her force herself out of his embrace but gently.  They had already reached the third floor and the elevator door was opening.

Jason Castro Somewhere Over The Rainbow American Idol Top 8

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

(Thought-Random)

        With me,  my friends Lia and Liza both  (Sam and Naldo, too) like Iz Kamakawiwo'ole's version of  'Somewhere Over the Rainbow',  and I am just having some thoughts on the rainbow itself.  Lia,  in fact,  had just told me,  'tuvo un arco iris hace poco aqui en LA y recorde de ti!'.   Sweet!  She always is.  But we actually did have one too over here in CT recently  and it did remind me of loved ones,  yes,  but of silver linings behind the clouds as well.  It made me look through the array of colors into a space of realizations and remembrances.

        See,  with the rain I see beauty in the wanton downfall of water : .....-clear, ....fresh,... pure,.....cool,......     unmindful of anything but to reach the ground.  And as I relish such panoramic magnificense, my experience is complemented by  the musical rendition the rain   makes on the rooftops,  -on the plants,  -on the ground.   I don't know why I love rain like I do...I don't know why but I do.... notwithstanding the wetness it brings along.   Ah but now, that is what others won't allow into their comfort zones - the wet and all the discomfort that it carries with it.  And I have to admit that  rain isn't really always kind to the world!  But I don't want to think about that now!   I want to stick to the pleasant fact that after the rain, the world is cleansed and everything is lovely in a different way.  It is exactly at this point that the rainbow comes into view, doesn't it?

        Anika has a song that goes:  'red, orange, blue, green and yellow;  don't forget the purple too.....!'  But those are the only colors assigned to the rainbow, no?  They're missing my white and brown and black favorites!!!   ( They're not colors?)   At any rate, if the aftermath of rain alludes to the realization of newness in the rainbow, -new beginnings,  new love,  new life;  I'd like to think that too, the rainbow in all its colors evoke memories or just simple recall  in my mind.   After a segment of appreciative moments for the rainfall,  I also then next want to raise my eyes to the skies.... - to a glance of the blues and blacks that have caused me a feeling of frustration and unrealized expectations;  -of the pinks and reds that have brought about a turn-around in terms  of the happy surprises and  the thoughts of love sent to my direction; -of the browns and purples that have allowed in me some resignation in and acceptance of what I have;  - and of the whites and greens that have instilled  in me a spark of hope for my aspirations that most often than not,  I would  simply leave unsaid.

        Thus,  before I return to pick up my chores for the day,  I wrap-up my colors in gossamer and with my hopeful eyes... gently for safekeeping.... let them go, fly on to... -somewhere over the rainbow......! And I will meet up with you there, won't I?

A Little Bit of Tai Chi

(A Toastmaster Basic Speech)

Ladies and Gentlemen:

        ...did you know that each time I am introduced,   I take pleasure in it because more often than not,  what I expect always happens - which is, people usually look for a Chinese-looking female for the name Sonja Chan but end up disappointed because yes, they see a female... an Asian female... but definitely not a Chinese.  Not like one of those that Steven Spielberg accused of bombing Pearl Harbor! (you remember our old Spielberg joke, of course...him thinking the Japanese, the Chinese and the Burmese are all the same!)

        But I love my name, you know, and it goes back to my college days during my Oriental history classes.  Here we discussed the Chinese revolutionary leader Dr Sun Yat Sen whom you might know played an instrumental role of overthrowing the Qing dynasty - the last Imperial dynasty of China.  And this was in 1912.  He was then made the first provisional president when the Republic of China was founded....and well, that was that.

        Now you must think this is crazy but I loved the euphonic effect of the name Dr Sun Yat Sen... and from there,  I began to love everything Chinese: - food, clothes, song, dance - everything Chinese, I tell you....until my husband came along and made my name Dr Sonja Chan.  Fascinating, don't you think?  So I loved everything Chinese - and that necessarily included my love for Tai Chi.  As you must know, Tai Chi, or Tai Chi Chuan, as it is also known, is an internal Chinese martial art usually practised for health reasons.  Some of the training forms known in the Western world include slow-motion routines that a group of people practise together every morning in the parks around the world and with music.  But as a martial art, it is also recognized as a death tool notwithstanding its slow-motion routines.

        Well,  I'm quite  interested in the health aspect of  Tai Chi as it concentrates on the relief of physical stress from both the body and the mind. - which I need!   And I can only mention a couple of these in a 5 to 7 minute speech.  So basic to Tai Chi we might say is the philosophy of the yin and the yang - the receptive and the active always in cooperative combination.  Like it is said - when there is a violent brute force, Tai Chi meets it with a softness until the brute force exhausts itself.  But in a regular training exercise, well,  the sequence of movement emphasizes a straight spine, abdominal breathing and a fluidity of movement.

       And so as it goes:  Tai Chi philosophy maintains that strength comes from one's communion with the ground thus the spine continues on a straight line to the ground like this.  Then exercises normally begin with abdominal breathing: - left left thumb on the navel,  right hand over the left  and breath deeply -1, 2, 3....  As for the fluidity of motion, this example is my favorite.  Start with the right foot forward. the left one foot apart on a 90 degree position... then raise the left hand and move it slowly to the back as you twist your waistline and bend your left knee, the right hand following the left in a lower level. Now the right hand alternates with the left:  raise the right hand in a circular motion as you lower the left.. moving the right hand to the back and the eyes follow the hands as they express. The body now turns to the right,  the left foot stepping forward with the right taking the  one foot distance this time, the waistline correspondingly twisting and the right knee bended.  In here is a total interaction of the body parts which encourages blood circulation,  joint flexibility, and simple relaxation. Interesting?

        Right!  Spielberg supposedly said that the Chinese, the Japanese, and the Burmese were all the same. But that isn't true, is it?  The Chinese have the Great Wall, - the Japanese and the Burmese do not!  The Chinese have Tai Chi Chuan, - the Japanese and the Burmese do not!  The Chinese have me....!  -by name, at least !  The Japanese and the Burmese do not!!! :)

Mister Toastmaster.....

A Little Bit of Universities

(Camera-Random)

        A community of teachers and scholars, - that is how a university is defined: (universitas magistrorum et scholarium).  And having been... and still being... a part of the academe,  one of the aspects in life that will ever glitter as a diamond in mine is what a university stands for.  Now discussions associated with the university would certainly parallel oceans of it but in this post,  I simply intend to share with you my immense  pleasure of having had visited some.  (...and some of them,  in turn,  I post in here.)

Stanford University  (Palo Alto, California)

Princeton University (Princeton, New Jersey)

Harvard University (Cambridge, Massachusetts)

Yale University  (New Haven, Connecticut)

 Columbia University (New York City)

University of Pennsylvania (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania)

Massachusetts Institute of Technology (Cambridge, Massachusetts)

Duke University (Durham, North Carolina)

University of Chicago (Chicago, Illinois)

Northwestern University (Chicago, Illinois)

University of California at Berkeley

University of Connecticut  (Storrs, Connecticut)

Washington and Lee University  (Lexington, Virginia)

US Military Academy (West Point, New York)

Virginia Military Institute (Lexington, Virginia)

George Washington University  (Washington, D.C.)

        These universities in the United States,  I had the pleasure and privilege of having visited,  the students of all these of whom I so deeply envy........ !

Crossing my Waters

(Thought-Random)

        I am trying to consider this call for presenters at our Toastmasters District 53 Conference ( Eastern New York, all of Connecticut, Western Massachusetts)  which would give me a chance to do an hour's talk on a topic which happens to be a favorite of mine - a topic on the speaker and language.   I've had had earlier notions on particular aspects of language which certainly be of interest to a speaker, - but which of these, I am wondering,  just might serve for my purposes.

        Well, it goes without saying that language is made up of sounds, arrangement and meaning.   And the linguist would technically identify the study of these three in terms of Phonetics, Syntax and Semantics, respectively.  Each of these areas would necessarily parallel oceans of discussion so I need to be selective for the time allotted for the task.   That's for an hour, yes!   But come to think of it.  Some 10 minutes of it will be used to introduce me.  After the talk,  I will need to give up another 10 to 15 minutes for a question and answer portion.  And since this is going to be a Toastmaster affair, there is going to be that part-and-parcel aspect of it which is the Evaluation of the task - that, Virginia, would also be a 5 minute-ish time deduction from my one hour.   Which boils down to the reality that I will have more or less just some 35 minutes to talk.  Okay.

        Phonetics?   Enunciation and articulation?   But I am in America, - in a country to whom belongs the English language.  (And that would be together with England,  I suppose!).  If I were back home where it is only one of several countries that use English as a second language,  talking about phonetics might be interesting,  so no, -not phonetics for now.    Syntax perhaps?  Where one finds the 'rigors and the romance of sentences'?....where a 'sentence comes together through a dance of words'?  But native speakers have the privilege,  to willfully violate the rules either in wicked defiance or in pleasured deviation.  So, no -not syntax for now.   Now, semantics.  Meaning?   Vocabulary?   Well, whether or not in America,  meaning is that aspect of language which relatively undergoes change faster than any other.  So perhaps I should try this?

        In contrast to the written version of it,  language in speech does take up certain demands.   It does make a difference for one to follow the graphic representation of language- its visual on paper,-  from that of its spoken counterpart.   I know one main distinction  would be that when reading it, one has the chance to go over and over it till he is satisfied; whereas when listening to it, and he misses the meaning of some part of it, - he loses it forever because speech is ephemeral...it lasts for just a brief time.   While listening to it,  he wouldn't be able to hold it at any point he'd want to because by then, the spoken language will simply have passed  him by. Speakers certainly have to have this in mind!

        The speaker and language,  thus,  shall my topic be?   I could,  for instance, tell my audience to be simple in word choice: - to say  'learn' rather than 'ascertain';  to say 'large' rather than 'elephantine', to say 'after dinner speech' rather than 'postprandial discourse'.  Listeners would rather want to enjoy the ease of understanding than be given tasks to decipher non-common words.   The English language is rich in subtle variations like for the word  'shine', - it will give choices from 'glow', glimmer', 'glitter', 'glisten', 'flare', 'shimmer', 'flicker',  to 'sparkle'.   Speakers would have to choose the exact shade of meaning they want to communicate.   The use of strong verbs like action words would be to have their sentences come alive as they put across movement.   Phrases such as 'They jumped joyously,'....'waved their hands', ...'crossed the line hurriedly'... would impact the listeners' imagination just as adjectives do.   And yes, there are a lot more, that's for sure... but wait,  -am I really,  really sure this area of language for the speaker is now my choice?   But let me, for a moment, backtrack  just a little in these thoughts, - before I go on crossing my waters..........

High Noon

(A Short Story)

        You defied the parching heat of the sun against your back as you enjoyed yourself among the cool waves of the sea.  The summer class in English 10 took time out in a picnic and you had joined the group because of a younger sister that belonged to the class.  You listened to the ringing laughter of the girls and their happy shouts.  You also watched the games the boys played.  They even called out to you:  Hey Fred, come on over- join us! But, No thanks, you called back.  I'd rather swim.

        There was this kind of impulse from within that made you want to do something you never did before.  Just about anything, you muttered, and you swam in measured strokes.  Nearer and nearer to nowhere you wanted to go.  Stroke came after stroke.  Waves splashed against your face one after the other.  The sounds came in rhythm;  even your heartbeats joined the rhythm..  And you thought it was beautiful.

        For some moments, it went on this way until suddenly you realized the sounds you created weren't the same anymore.  Now,  there came two splashing sounds for each one stroke that you made and it made you wonder.  You kept a moment's stillness.  And a distant swim-splashing prevailed, naturally demanding your eyes.  You looked to your left and sure enough, someone else was swimming.  Perhaps in your eagerness to be alone, you believed you were really alone but you were not.  So you decided to might as well meet him and you swam toward his direction.

        Only a few yards from him a little much later, you took in a deep breath and then shouted your lungs out, Hey kid, come on and beat me to shore!  But almost instantly, you thought you could have burned from embarassment if only you weren't in water. You just realized he turned out to be a 'she'.  It was only then that you noticed the long black hair flowing with the water.  And you could have easily given her a first impression of being fresh and very well deserved a look of swords in return, - but his one sweetly smiled a smile you couldn't understand.  Could she have meant to be polite?  To act a good sport?  Or to insult in a very nice way.  At any rate, your heart argued to heaven that you honestly thought she was just a boy.  She didn't say a word though but started swimming to shore.  Good naturedly, she had accepted your challenge and you were silently thankful as you swam alongside with her.

        Back on dry sand, you gently helped her against a big rock and waited for her to catch her breath.  Too, without a word, you took your place in a position near her where you could watch her closely without her eyes meeting yours.  She's not bad to look at, you thought. With those delicate features, why she could very well stand out in a beauty contest!  Eventually she moved.  With both hands, she swept her hair from her face and then started to stand up but you quickly clasped her hand down to the sand and said in almost a stammer, Before you you go, can't we first be friends?  You probably pleaded with eyes that penetrated into her very soul because at this, and without the slightest hint of hesitation, she made herself comfortable once again. Was that a lightning flash of a gladness that surged into your being?

        See, I'd like to apologize for sounding so rude a while back, you managed to begin, but believe me, I was just trying to be friendly.  Did you resent it?  She put on view an interested look but she didn't say a word so you went on.  I'm not really a member of the class but I have a younger sister who is.  Do you know her?  The name is Tina.  Tina Cruz.  Still, there was the painful silence from her that you began to feel rather uneasy under her wordless gaze.  Then it came to you.  She probably didn't understand a thing you said. Yikes!  And you whistled a long slow one.  That means I'll have to employ some vernaculars I know.  So you first ventured with Ilokano and asked for her name.  Ania't nagan mo Ading? 


         She let out a hard-suppressed giggle which made you look blankly at her.  She was obviously amused but you couldn't understand why.  Suddenly mermaid tales filled your thoughts.  You wouldn't admit it but fear creeped into your bones.  You met in the water, didn't you?  She smiles but she doesn't talk although she probably sings.  Before you readied to quietly leave her, you still wanted to ask her just one more stupid question, Are you a mermaid?

        This time, she broke into a musical laughter that brought you up to your feet.  Of course not, crazy, she stood up too.  Can't you see I've got a pair of legs?  She continued with a smile that was kind of pixie-ish. My turn to apologize, though, for playing this nasty joke.  Friends?  She let out her right hand which you readily took into your own.  Friends, you answered, very much relieved.

        Hand in hand as you walked towards the group, she went on talking.  I'm actually called Linda.  I'm president of the class and certainly know Tina.  She's a nice girl.  No wonder you're nice too, and she raised her admiring eyes to you.  You could have said some more but you deemed them better left unsaid.  At least for the moment.  You had to make faster steps;  the sand was hot - very hot.  You were walking right over your shadows because then,  it was already  HIGH NOON!