“She’s here,” says the man outside.
In your mind you see her lay on the narrow table the food she always brings. Until now it escapes you why she does this when she knows you have stopped eating it since the incident. Is it her way of letting you exorcise your demons?
You met her father on this generation’s luckiest day: 8-8-88. You were at your favorite restaurant when he asked if he could join you. You were actually done but good manners aside, you didn’t want to foist bad luck on him by leaving just when he was about to eat. And so you broke into a half smile and nodded.
Continue reading Spaghetti
I’m a Gen Xer and I love movies.
It saddens a movie freak like me that the movie house of my youth, Timber City Cinema in Tandag City, has gone kaput and become display center for all things China.
In mid-90s, during the dying years of Timber City Cinema, watching movies meant sweating bullets from heat; inhaling cigarette smoke; resting one’s feet on the seat to avoid contact with rats the size of cats; and evading raindrops falling from the holey roof.
During heavy rains, a puddle would form on the orchestra floor, between the screen and the first row. And from the balcony I would watch the movie on that pool of water because images were less blurry.
In the 70s, movie houses were enclosed by foldable gate grills. Behind the grills and encased in glass cabinets were movie posters under the “Next” and “Coming Soon” labels. And outside of the grills, tacked on both sides of a plywood panel were still pictures under the “Now Showing” label.
As we waited for the movie house to open at 1 o’clock, we would entertain ourselves by gawking at these posters and photos.
Continue reading Watching Movies in the 70s