Why I’m voting for Gibo Teodoro

Finally, I have decided who to vote for President on Monday. After much thought, it came down to either Richard Gordon or Gilbert Teodoro. Sorry, but at least for me, the others weren’t even close. I eliminated Villar as early as when he announced his candidacy (and it wasn’t even because of the C5 issue). Nicanor Perlas and JC de los Reyes didn’t really strike me as people who can actually do things on a national scale, although I applaud their efforts in their previous endeavors. Jamby’s anti-Villar campaign focus at the start of the campaign did not impress me. Noynoy Aquino was someone I considered up until I realized something – he hasn’t really done anything. So, I choose Gibo.

I have no grand illusions of this decision as having a ground-breaking, earth-shattering effect on the elections, compared to what I think a popular noontime show host thinks of his grand Vice President “announcement,” but hell yeah, it’s my vote and I am making sure I’m making an informed, well-thought decision. People who think making such a big deal out of one’s vote is unnecessary, close this note now. I guess I’m just someone who thinks exercising my right to vote will give me the right to participate in my country’s future. So, yes, I’ll be entitled to complain come hell or high water if Gibo doesn’t win and whoever sits in the presidency constructs another circus with a 6 year run.

So, why am I voting for Gibo?
  • At least for me, the presidency is a job. I consider myself a part of a 36 million-strong country-wide HR department who’ll determine the candidate fitting the position. As any other job interviewer, the first thing I’ll be looking for are qualifications, of course.
  • Noynoy Aquino was 3-term congressman and a senator for close to three years. For those more than ten years in the legislative, he became Deputy Speaker for Luzon (a bone tossed by then House Speaker de Venecia to placate his LP dogs/supporters) and Senate Committee Chair on Local Government. He authored 9 bills plus sponsored another 9 in the senate, and those that were actually passed into laws add up to a total of (drumroll, please)... 4. Yes, there’s definitely more to legislature than to write laws. I understand there’s check and balance with the executive and judiciary, adhoc senate committees, etc etc – I graduated with a Political science degree, thank you. But when you have someone like Miriam Defensor-Santiago who has authored around 700+ bills since 2004, heads senate committees, is battling depression after her son’s suicide AND is allegedly psychologically unstable, Noynoy’s 18 bills just doesn’t seem to make sense. At all.
  • Erap has had some really solid accomplishments during his interrupted presidency, including the quashing of the MILF, the “booming” of the BPO industry and the use of his picture on MRT cards, a project his predecessor masterminded. He was also found guilty of plunder beyond reasonable doubt and was sentenced to reclusion perpetua. Meaning, he would still be in jail now if not for the presidential pardon a little lady bestowed on him. Bottom line: he’s a criminal who got away.
  • Whatever happened to Villar’s Capitol Bank? I still remember watching the news with people lining up just to discover that bank already closed. I just cannot imagine someone running my country if he couldn’t even prevent his bank from going bankrupt. Yes, I know, businessmen are supposed to take risks and make mistakes. But come on, this was a bank with other people’s money, for effing goodness sakes, gone, just like that.
  • The use of children, poor (as in fiscally poor, not just cutesy poor) children at that, to campaign for you is inexcusable. I don’t even care if the jingle is as catchy as H1N1 flu. What the heck, letting children tell the public that you are God’s sent to eliminate poverty because you were poor before? How creative and thoroughly disgusting. The worst thing with that campaign was that people easily dismissed it as “You have to hand it to his PR men, the ad is so catchy.” Seriously? From my end it sure looks like Children of the Corn dressed in tattered clothes. Read: BRAINWASHING the most vulnerable, because they are (1) children (who are like tape recorders and repeat anything, catchy or not) and (2) poor (who’ll do anything for a warm meal).
  • Another thing that bugs me: candidates that claim that they used to be poor. That was like 30 years ago. You are swimming in money now. Get over it!
  • I will not vote for a candidate who hasn’t done anything and just tells everyone to vote for him because he’ll “continue” his parents’ legacy. Our country is brimming with heroes. In that case shall we invite all Osmenas, Aguinaldos, Quezons, Garcias, Magsaysays and Rizals to run for presidency? On second thought, why don’t we all invite all descendants of St. Lorenzo Ruiz to be president? That’s one person recognized not only by the Filipino public, but the entire Catholic Church on all corners of the world. That way we don’t just get the son of a hero and a dead president, we get the grandson or granddaughter of a saint. A SAINT!
  • I will not vote for Bro. Eddie because it’s his second time to run. Now, he’s claiming he was called by the higher power for the second time to run again. Now if the same higher power called him to run the first time, why did he lose? The higher power may act in mysterious ways, but for him to let his “chosen one” lose the first time and call him the second time seems a bit absurd.
  • Jamby, after Gordon and Gibo, actually has the best public service track record. What I don’t like about her campaign is that she started off by doing an anti-Villar campaign. I don’t really want to give my vote to someone who’s just presenting herself as an alternate to someone she hates. As much as she has already started showing TV ads of her platforms and issues, I think it’s a little too late.
  • Until the last minute, I considered Richard Gordon, but then if he couldn’t even run a campaign with his running mate, I’m afraid he might be running a one-man show should he become president. That’s rather scary.
I am voting for Gibo because he has the qualifications for the job. He has the smarts, the leadership skills, a clean track record and holds himself accountable to everything he has done. No “vote for me because I’m the chosen one.” No “vote for me because I’m the son of heroes.” No “vote for me because I used to be poor and poor kids are singing my campaign jingle.” No “vote for me because we all hate this shark of a candidate.”

Of all the candidates, I see myself voting for Gibo and actually being proud of voting for him. I don’t get the feeling that I’ll have to defend him or think twice before telling anyone that he has my vote. If he wins, I am convinced better things are in store for our country. If he loses, then I won’t really be surprised if we’re headed for another six years of waste.

EPAL (Eight Points at Labay-labay*)

* Randomness, in Ilonggo labay-labay (stress on 2nd and 4th syllables) means random and, most of the time, unnecessary stuff. In Bisaya, labay (stress on 1st syllable) means to throw, so I guess, it sort of means the same, right?

(1) I am currently in that smoking area/al fresco area of McDonald's Greenbelt. A few minutes ago, I was minding my own business (tending to my Facebook restaurant and reading Jessica Zafra's blog) when I saw, from my peripheral vision, a European-looking guy (think Peter Sarsgaard) walk over the waist-high glass fence that separated the area from the sidewalk. He approached me, and in ever-so-thinly accented English, asked me for 29 bucks because he needed that much to go home to San Pedro, Laguna. I was dumbstruck for around three seconds before I offered my apologies.

(2) He went inside the store, probably to ask for 29 bucks from someone else. His head was filled with sweat and I was freaked out for a minute before recovering. He was so precise. 29 pesos. He must have really needed it. Lord, sorry. I'm just your regular, jaded Manila resident whose first reaction to any solicitor is a quick N-O.

(3) If he had said that he needed 29 bucks to get to his next pit stop before a team catches up with him in the Amazing Race, I would have reached for my pockets in no time, nanginginig pa.

(4) I just watched An Education days ago, so I really have a HUGE thing for Peter Sarsgaard. It is difficult to say no to Peter Sarsgaard.

(5) If he had asked me for some other thing, it would have taken me a full minute to say no. Nobody says no to Peter Sarsgaard. Who the F cares about Maggie Gylenhaal? Actually, I would have said yes.

No, wait. My morals are intact. Intact ampota.

(6) Now, why is he going home to San effing Pedro in effing Laguna? No offense to Laguna residents, but...?
(7) Wait, are there an abundance of cash-strapped and impossibly hot foreigners in San Pedro, Laguna? Shall we all move to effing San Pedro like, now?

(8) Will somebody tell me how to react to a hot foreigner soliciting cash?

Oysters:Pearl = Me:Ranting

A pearl is formed when a foreign object is introduced into a mussel or oyster. In turn, the animal coats that foreign object with a substance called nacre. The piling up of nacre makes the pearl.

Now, if human beings could only be like oysters that not only coat irritants, but also create something beautiful. Alas, this is not the case, especially for your truly. Irritating objects are subjects of, well, irritation, and therefore it is my ernest wish that they be eradicated from the face of the earth. No, I'm not an oyster, hell no. So, sue me.

It just so happens that our planet is filled with irritants, and much of them are things I cannot really eradicate, unfortunately. They come in all forms and circumstances, mostly unavoidable - songs that stick in your consciousness like moist booger, overheard conversations you wish you hadn't heard - you get my drift. So, let this blog serve as my vent for things irritating, in the hopes that, despite not having the enviable talent of oysters, I may still hold on to what's left of my sanity.

Case in point:
One afternoon, I was in line to pay for junk I wanted to eat minutes later, and two ladies dressed in university uniforms were engaged in a very animated conversation. It was their turn already but the girl holding her supposed purchase was lost in her thoughts, as she was trying to remember something to contribute to aforementioned conversation. The cashier was thirty seconds close to hurling expletives, with her eyes ready to commit murder, if looks could kill. The conversation became a variation of the popular noontime show staple Pinoy Henyo, and everyone got into the action because it felt like the girl will not hand in the bottled water she wants to buy unless she remembers what it was she really wanted.

Girl Friend: So, inumin siya? (So, it's something to drink?)
Gaga girl: Oo, shiet, ano ba kase yun? Ungggggggh. (Yes, shit, if I could only remember. Scary sound of frustration that one wouldn't expect a lady to produce, with matching feet stomping).
GF: Softfrink?
GG: Hindi. (No.)
GF: Kape?
GG: Hindi.
GF: Juice?
GG: Mmmmmm.....deeeeeeeee. (Neeeeeeee..........oooooowwwwwwwwwwwww. Imagine sound of someone constipated for two days.)
GF: Masarap? Ano color? (Is it delicious? What color?)
GG: Parang yellow na orange. (One of two things: Mountain Dew or urine???)

Cashier is frothing at her mouth and threatening to transform into Emily Rose any second.

GF: Iniinom natin? (Do we drink it?)
GG: Oo naman. (But of course, stupid.)
Counter bagger: Malamig siyang inumin? (Is it a cold drink?)

GG shots CB a sarcastic glance along the lines of "Yah, like that's gonna help" while refusing to honor what I felt was a valid question.

GF: Oo nga, malamig? (Yes, is it cold?)
GG: Duh, syempre. (Duh, of course, with matching rolling of eyes, with undertones of "Why did you listen to lowly counter bagger. You're supposed to be on my side. Some friend, eejot!")

Cashier breathes extra audibly like her lungs were about to combust.

GF: Naku, ano kaya yan? (Oh my, what could that be?)
GG: Basta, maikli lang yung name. (Well, it's got a short name.)
GF: Mga ilang letters? (Around how many letters?)
GG: Sure ako. Sure ako. Two. Two letters. Ayan na!!! Nasa dulo na ng dila ko!!! (I'm sure. I'm sure. Two. Two letters. There it is! It's at the tip of my tongue).
GF: May ganun ba? (Is there such a thing, you moron? We're causing a scene. I don't wanna be identified with you after this.)
Cashier: Coke? (In between gnashed teeth)
GG: Two letters, 'te. Two!!! (Two letters, sister. Two letters. Don't you know how to count? You're the cashier, you're supposed to know how to count.)
Me, who is 95% so over this woman: RC?

GG stares blankly at me, considers my answer for 5 seconds, then says: Hindi e. Hindi siya softdrink. Pero two letters talaga e. (No, it's not. It's not a softdrink. But it really has two letters, with her eyes starting to get misty from the struggle of thinking)

Two guys who looked like construction workers making the building beside the store and our office were behind me at the line. One of them was beginning to mutter "Pasalamat to babae sya..." (She should thank her lucky stars she a girl or else, I would have clobbered her to a pulp).

Then, by some stoke of genius, GG turned around and looked at the construction workers behind me. Her eyes widened like she found a pot of gold when she saw what the other construction worker was holding.

GG: AYAN!!! Ayan!! Girl, Ayan o! (There it is!!! There! Girl, there it is, pointing her friend to what the guy was holding)

The guy was holding a plastic bottle of C2 iced tea.


C2. C. Two. C. 2.

GF: Ah!!!!!!!!!!! C2! Hahahahahahaha. (Nervous laughter, meaning: Shet, nakakahiya ka.)
CB: C2 pala e. (Oh, it's C2. If you weren't pretty, I swear you're just plain dumb.)
Cashier: C2? (Medics, I think I'm gonna faint.)
Construction workers: Ah, eto? (Oh, this one? )
Me: ... (ANAKNGPUTAKTE. BOBA. SINCE WHEN NAGING LETTER ANG NUMERONG 2? HA? BWAKANANG(*)^$^&B V*B!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
GF: Girl, balik ka dun at kuha ka na ng C2. (Girl, haul your hiney on the double and get that effing drink before someone whoops your ass.)

After the two of them left the counter, I looked at the cashier, the two construction workers and the poor bagger. I swear they, me included, looked like we almost got ran over by a car seconds ago.

Cue REM.
"Don't let yourself go." (looking at the bagger whose mouth was still agape)
"'Cause everybody cries..." (looking at the cashier who has been shaking her head for two minutes now)
"Everybody hurts...." (looking at the two construction workers, whose bottles of C2 iced tea are already dripping precipitate)
"Sometimes." (Feeling like I just ran a 100 meter dash)

I walked out slowly of the store while devouring my bag of Mr. Chips in record time.

I could just imagine how difficult it is to be an oyster.