There’s that leap of a year on February 29. Very soon, Spring 2020 will officially begin, as a marked Gregorian calendar date, on March 19 in the Northern Hemisphere.
Meteorological movements, however, will continue to remain unpredictable. As usual, we will leave it to the weathermen to tell us, in the most believable of ways, what the heavens will ably deliver.
Fact: Brighter and longer moments will persist and the incidence of cold winds, heavy snowfall and annoying slush will diminish.
Have you filed and paid your taxes yet? The government needs to table funds to buy salt for next winter!
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By the time this March 16 to 31, 2020 issue of Balita rolls off the press and hits Filipino shops and stores in the Greater Toronto Area and suburbs, many of us have completed our pre-Spring chores and tasks.
Expectedly, we have been through our daily addictive dose of the worldwide web, the Internet and social media. Amid the chaos, we remembered to begin March 8 with Daylight Saving Time (DST).
Huli man daw at magaling, ito ay paalala sa mga uliyanin: DST began on the second Sunday of March when clocks were turned an hour forward, from 2 a.m. to 3 a.m.
DST will end on November 1 when clocks fall back an hour when it strikes 2 a.m. Huwag sabihing ako ay napa-aga. Kapag ‘yan ay nakalimutan pa, suko na ako talaga!
Seriously, I really do not have any idea why this year, the start of DST coincided with the celebration of International Women’s Day, and its end coinciding with All Saints Day. Baka may alam kayo, paki-share naman.
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As I adjusted each of the six or seven analog and digital clocks strategically hanged on walls of an apartment where occupants follow “Filipino time,” I came to realize that humans were so lucky to have been privileged – wittingly or unwittingly by politicians – to have been given at least two DST moments in a year to figuratively cavort with and literally tinker with the hands of time.
One free fleeting jump of an imaginary hour was all I needed to avoid, disregard, ignore, lay aside and reject any and all personal stress and worries and any and all worldly issues and concerns.
Come to think of it. Isn’t it nice to be forthwith relieved of the negativity surrounding you and your loved ones once in a while; and to discern that no one needs to remind you to keep calm and not to panic?
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Quick as it might have been, that free fleeting jump of an imaginary hour gave me the chance to dump the novel coronavirus a.k.a. COVID-19 to the black bin of obscurity. No recycling, just plain good riddance.
Who really cares, anyways, if that president or this councillor allegedly shook hands with a person allegedly tested positive for COVID-19; or the occurrence of and deaths caused by COVID-19 went allegedly higher or allegedly lower in as many countries worldwide? Don’t you?
Who really cares, anyways, about two-week quarantines aboard quarantined Princess cruise ships and in quarantined military camps; or about tourist spots, sports arenas, TV game shows and public places being closed to general patronage? Don’t you?
(Of course, Pareng Mon will cry over any move to keep out avid fans from future Toronto Raptors game at Scotiabank Arena or elsewhere or at any Jurassic Park nearest him; after the Raptors recently notched a playoff berth; and after winning against the Phoenix Suns 123-114, the Golden State Warriors 121-113, the Sacramento Kings 118-113, and the Utah Jazz 101-92 during a five-game western swing. What more? No. 24 Norman Powell was named NBA Eastern Conference Player of the Week. Pareng Mon cares. Don’t you?)
Who really cares, anyways, if the global COVID-19 hype had sent stock markets plunging; or was not in any way related to the significant dip in oil prices; or had caused the panic purchases of toilet paper? Don’t you?
Media reports said that suspects wore face masks when they carried out a recent shooting spree in Toronto’s west end. I do not believe that the cover up was to deter the spread of COVID-19. Do you?
Dagdag samut-sari: Kung may kinalaman sa COVID-19 ang pagpapalipad ng North Korea ng dalawang projectiles at ang alingasngas-langis ng mga Ruso at Arabo, paki-balitaan naman kami.
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Rhyme of the time: I have two hands, the left and the right. Hold them apart, so clean and bright. Clap them softly … one, two, three. Clean little hands are good to see.
Kailangan pa ba talagang i-memorize ‘yan?
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Watered And Soaped Hands (WASH) has always been an official medical mantra.
So they say, WASH may as well be the alpha and the omega of clean living.
Pero sadyang pasaway talaga itong si Impong Rudy: “Therese, nasaan na ang hand sanitizer?”
Therese: “Tignan mo diyan sa tukador.”
Impong Rudy: “Teka. Papel de liha ang nandito, ah.”
Therese: “Ayaw mo niyan? May pang-kamay na, may pang-facial ka pa!”
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As speedy as it might have been, that free fleeting jump of an imaginary hour also gave me the chance to dump all the cares and woes heaped on parents and schoolchildren by a seemingly irresolvable battle of arrogance and dismaying display of ignorance between disputing provincial state and labour union teams still to seat with each other and reach a fair deal for all on a bargaining table.
So oblivious was I to a socio-academic issue, as I took five to ten seconds to rotate the long minute and short hour hands of time on the clock, as the second hand ticked by and moved on.
It really never mattered whether any special job action or strike or protest was not made on Queen’s Park or elsewhere for a whole week. Seriously, does it matter to you?
It really never mattered if the Ontario government and the teachers’ unions also sought to enjoy and be happy and carefree, as they join elementary and high school students in a much-awaited and much-deserved March or Spring Break. Ooops! Please read and comply with travel advisories. Seriously, does it matter to you?
It also really never mattered if another set of bureaucrats and union leaders and city workers worked to resolve issues so that work stoppages could be avoided and that city denizens could continue to enjoy what they paid for in fees, levies and taxes? Seriously, does it matter to you?
Freddie Mercury and his Queen might have been right when they chorused and chastised in Bohemian Rhapsody: “Nothing really matters, everyone can see. Nothing really matters to me.”
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That free fleeting jump of an imaginary hour when I was freed from trivial concerns of the moment, however, was only as good as it lasted – which was until I set the perceived right time, moved over to another time piece and went back to bed where I stared at the boob tube airing the news and transporting me back to reality.
Shucks! Either a pill or a Corona beer could have helped me get back to sleep; but I was wanting. I just have to wait until the end of DST on November 1 to play with the hands of time again.
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Meanwhile, did you celebrate Toronto’s historical 185th year?
It was on March 6, 1834 when the Town of York was incorporated as the City of Toronto. Later, the former municipalities of Etobicoke, North York, York, East York and Scarborough were amalgamated into the city, which is lately ranked as the fourth-largest city in North America by population and a global destination for tourism, business, arts and cultural diversity.
Hurrah to Mayor John Tory, the City Council and officials who planned and prepared a two-day weekend festival at the Nathan Phillips Square to mark the milestone.
And do remember to flash that lucky leprechaun’s grin and to be green as you join Torontonians celebrate St. Patrick’s Day on March 15.
Back to reality, buddies; but think of only the best – that Ole Man Winter is on his weary way out and that Spring is in the offing!
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It gives me great pleasure to greet Knights of Columbus brothers Janusz Masilungan and Jerome Peralta a belated but blessed birth anniversary. The same cordial greet also goes to my cousin Angie Ilao, my high school classmate Manny delos Reyes, and dear friends Ermini Gonzales and George Untong.
Bakit, masama bang batiin ang mga ka-birthday ko last March 12? I have only one happy thought – lahat sila ay mga bata pa; while my hair either turned salty-and-peppery or simply glided to the floor when I aged to 66.
Positive as I may be in my outlook on life, I am certainly sure as I am surely certain that I will never be 666.
To my ever loyal and lovable critics and detractors, this is not a threat. It is a pr