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Textbooks of our Lives

One of my brothers had a way of simplifying matters whenever I present him with a complicated situation. He’d tell me to act one way or another, in accordance to what his veteran wisdom would consider to be logical or intuitive. “Basang-basa na yang kwento na yan (that story has been read many times before),” he’d say, pointing out that most situations we encounter in life have already happened to a lot of people. The history of people’s lives are so rich that most of our problems have a textbook solution.

There’s a big difference, however, between knowing what to do and the actual performance. The plan laid down in front of us, and the audacity to start the action. It is this gap that renders all of us living the way we do. We carry on by solving one problem at a time, some being a little bit more difficult than others.

To make things more challenging, surprises may hit us every once in a while. Like mean twists at the end of a long movie. Something from far left field perhaps, or an experience so unique that we could bet all-in that not a single letter was written about it in anyone’s life scroll. How do we deal with these then?

We are adaptive. We are resilient. Because of this, we do get through the snags eventually. Our survival, of course, remains to be seen. One thing’s for sure though: once it’s over, the story is considered written.

Perhaps someone else would come across this new story. If it helps just one other person, it would have been a story well played.

New Look and a Comic Book

I’ve recently discovered some of the advantages WordPress has over other blog platforms. Having found a widget ready scalable theme, I had to bid goodbye to the original layout. That first template was a plain WordPress theme that was so boring, I had to replace the banner with something more interesting. If anyone can remember the banner this site formerly had, I’d like to point out that it was chosen for its likeness to the art of Matt Wagner. He’s both writer and artist, the brain behind the Grendel comic books and the critically acclaimed story of the Trinity, which showcased the three DC icons at their best. It was Wagner style in wit, realism, and of course, art.  But that’s a story for next time.

For now, it’s all about the new look.

My old banner reminded me of this graphic novel

Congratulations, Belvedeer.

People have different opinions on the concept of “awards.” The idea of publicly showing appreciation towards a particular person, group or institution sits well with most people, yet there are particular mindsets that label these proceedings as unnecessary. Henry Rollins (of the Rollins Band) even went off to declare that award ceremonies are ridiculous, as he will not accept one artist telling another my art is better than your art, as concretized by some so and so trophy.

I do understand the Henry Rollins perspective, though it would be a hypocrisy on my part to say that I don’t feel good whenever I get one of these things. To think that awards revolve around the kudos is rather shallow. In contrast, I view that the congratulatory nature of the process is outdone by the recognition that an awardee can receive for a job well done. It’s all about being recognized, about being respected for a certain act of rigor, as opposed to just simply basking in a shower of back-pats.

So there are big awards, and there are small awards. I must admit that browsing through them feels like a time-machine ride of sorts. The actual plaques take me back to the hurdles I had to jump through, and the solutions that led me to little successes.

I just happened to come across old certificates and tokens while tidying up my table this afternoon. I guess that’s where I got the inspiration for this entry. I would like to note though, that in spite of the unearthing of several items reflective of achievement in both academe and career, it was this award that made me smile the most:

There were awards that I’ve received, there were the ones that I’ve missed.  Most elders around here will say that I’ve let pass some of the more important ones, the awards that matter. They’d say that this toy blackboard trophy was given in humor, a reminder of something relatively insignificant.

So I was not a Latin awardee back in college (I had too much fun), and I did not get 1st place in that science contest back in grade school (Harold Luy was better). But this award here has got to be my favorite. Yes, it’s a toy trophy, but for me  this is one of those that count the most. This one matters. This one simply rocks.