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RASPUTIN MUSIC is one of the many delights that I discovered inSan Francisco early this month. This five-storey, almost rundown store carries rare CDs, LPs, and DVDs at unbelievable prices--a source of joy for those still cringing at the extinction of the traditional record shop. I saw and immediately purchased a four-dollar, second-hand CD ofWest of Oz,Lincoln Mayorga's 1981 collaboration withAmanda McBroom (she wrote the Bette Midler classic "The Rose"). It's extremely rare to find a Mayorga or McBroom CD these days, so this one's a treasure.
Here's the full track of "The Walk to Chatham Corners", the album's highlight. It shows Mr. Mayorga's classical and jazz background in its usual sparkling quality.
WHEN PHILIP Belarmino messaged me on Labor Day (5 September) about changing the evening’s dinner venue, I realized the adeptness of my high school batch mates in organizing such gatherings in the Bay Area. Bong (now Bhoc) Chavez and Mel Favila had advised Philip about the closure of Intramuros restaurant in San Francisco that night, so the venue shifted to Kuya’s in San Bruno.
The “UPIS’82 North California” chapter, as we call Philip and the rest, is clearly used to visitors, and their hospitality is remarkable. Doy Ver traveled through heavy traffic (it was the end of a busy Labor Day weekend). Edith Fortez-Kawai footed the full dinner bill. Philip picked me up and bestowed a tee shirt and fridge magnets upon me. What a lovely way to be welcomed to their community.
The men—and lady—all looked healthy and well. Bong seems to me the unassuming “big daddy” of the group: his erstwhile house was apparently the hub of previous gatherings. He is also the first in the group to have relocated to northern California. He is as soft-spoken and easy to laugh as I remember him back in high school.
On Facebook, Mel is mischievous with his posts and looks massive in photos. In person, he is surprisingly restrained, laughing a lot but joking a little. He is also a buff-looking hunk of a guy, a pleasant result of years of weight training. He looks a lot younger than what I expected. This man is a picture of contentment. I am happy to see how happy he seems to be.
I kept teasing Philip that night about being an elitist snob in high school. He sang with the exclusive UP Cherubim, and he led with the CMT officer corps. And if that was not enough, he was an honor graduate. He is still as pleasantly articulate as the “little boy” I used to walk with in the corridors of grade school. While my chats with him that night were brief, I am glad to have personally reconnected with him after all these years.
You know you are talking to a civil servant with Doy: he carries himself with dignity and endearment. Our beloved consul has come a long way, from representing our high school on basketball courts to representing our country on diplomatic courts. The hair has gone grayer since I last saw him in 2005, and this has given his handsome face a striking character that befits his stature.
I never imagined Leven Puno to be tall. In fact, he seems to be the tallest in the group. And he also looks the youngest—probably the reward of being a single man in his forties. He is funny and he is chatty. I enjoyed seeing the humorous interactions between Leven and the rest, especially Mel. A tall, handsome, and funny nurse. His patients are lucky.
And then there is the rose amongst the thorns, Edith. My, what a rose. She is incredibly lovely and incredibly poised. It may have been the result of so many years of being a flight attendant, but Edith seems to have a natural flair for elegance. Everything about her is smart and cool: her hair, the scarf around her neck, her sporty humor. I relished looking at and listening to her that evening.
We parted ways after a midnight round of coffee, gossip, and promises to meet again, whether in the United States or in India. Seeing high school friends is always delightful; this particular gathering in northern California will remain unforgettable.
THE MOST delightful surprise about San Francisco is how such a compact city (49 square miles) of hills and waterfronts can accommodate endless diversities in seamless manner. For example, on the last day of my weeklong stay, I dined in a quaint neighborhood called Little Italy, at the open-air Pinocchio on Columbus Avenue. Later, as I walked past cafés and gift shops with lovely little windows, I turned abruptly right on the corner and realized that I had just entered Chinatown.
It seems to me that everything that San Francisco offers is a glimpse of what the future world order could look like: a unified community of remarkable diversity. The ethnicities were unmistakable on my first day. A Southeast Asian immigration officer screened me upon arrival at the San Francisco International Airport. The cab driver that took me to the Pickwick Hotel was Chinese. At the hotel, the entire front desk and maintenance teams were Filipinos. I had lunch at an all-American diner served by a charming attendant from El Salvador. Dinner that evening was at the Japanese restaurant next door with a Korean crew.
I learned later that the ratio of residents to tourists is 1:2. If you think that’s astounding, get this: there are as much foreign tourists as there are American visitors. This makes every segment an equal third of San Francisco’s population at any given time. That’s something every trade and tourism ministry around the world aspires to attract!
Then there are the artists. On my last day, I spoke to the architects and designers who rehabilitated the historicFerry Building Marketplace and theWestfield San Francisco Centre landmarks. Both renovations reflect the city’s desire and achievement in blending its diverse culture, history, and ethnicities. As I stared at the newly restored, 101-foot-diameter glass dome above the Westfield and walked past organic and locally grown produce inside the Ferry Building, I understood why these two spectacular projects are landmarks in the city and career milestones for the architects.
I also managed to run to the awesomeSan Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SFMOMA) before it closed for the day. Jackson Pollock! Frida Kahlo! Ansel Adams! There are over 7,000 works from legendary sculptors, painters, photographers, and designers who have shaped my generation’s understanding of art. To view their works is to grasp the rebelliousness and inventiveness of our present age.
In Union Square, young musicians played their strings while muscle-shirted hunks danced to portable loudspeakers a few blocks away. One day, there was even a classical pianist with his piano on the pavement in front of the H&M clothing store. These sights remind me of Barcelona’s Las Ramblas. Could it be the Hispanic link that allows public art to be so free and compelling?
On the downside, it was unnerving to see the unemployed begging for lunch fares, and the homeless sleeping in the city streets at night. Even more unsettling is how decently they are dressed. I had seen some of them in branded sneakers or leather shoes, and donned in blazers and windbreakers. San Francisco remains the only city in eastern United States that funds the homeless. While shopping at the Levi’s flagship store one day, my sisters and I spoke to a salesman who admitted being embarrassed by such support, as it institutionalizes their existence.
For all the dodgy sights—not to mention expense tabs, as I realized that San Francisco is costly—there’s righteousness in claiming responsibility over the marginalized members of society. There’s no pretense in having struggling street artists and a well-funded art institution coexist within each other’s shadows. There’s tolerance with the famous/infamous San Francisco gay community, possibly the largest in the world. There’s correctness in keeping those hills and waterfronts clean and unspoiled. And there’s vision in allowing those Little Italys and Little Indias to coexist with the Chinatowns and Japantowns of the world.
These are values that make the greatest of cities. And these are thrills that must have wowed other visitors like me who left their hearts in San Francisco.
AFTER A mortifying experience last week with one of India’s largest mobile telephone companies, I have decided that Airtel is no longer capable of commitment and transformation.
The most loyal customers demand—and deserve—a higher desire:commitment, which Airtel has shown me is unable to provide.
When I requested for international mobile roaming (IR) service on the eve of my departure for the United States last 31 August, Airtel’s 121 hotline advised me that it was impossible to do so as my new SIM card was barely three months old. (I had to acquire a new card when I returned to Mumbai in June.) It was inconceivable to travel without connectivity, so I pleaded for the roaming service on two counts: that the card was shy of one week to meet the qualifying grade, and that I had been a loyal user of their various products—from landline to data card—for the past five years. After 45 minutes of pleading and heated debate, the 121 agent finally gave me an option: pay an advance fee of Rs5,000 (USD100) for the roaming service. I managed to find an Airtel Relationship Centre on the way to the airport that night and proceeded with the payment. I also requested my former relationship manager in Kolkata, the ever-effective Suvojit Seal, to help facilitate the activation process.
Apparently, Mr. Seal’s intervention worked, as I received an SMS indicating IR activation shortly before boarding my flight. The euphoria proved to be short-lived, though. Several hours later, upon landing in transit in Hong Kong, I received an SMS announcing deactivation of roaming.
Confused, and without an international phone service at the Hong Kong airport, I managed to e-mail my sister based in Switzerland to SMS Mr. Seal about the situation. I also tweeted and sent a Facebook message to Airtel.What followed was one of the most incredible experiences that I have had to endure. On landing in the United States, I bought an expensive US prepaid SIM card to stay connected. I kept awake at two o’clock in the morning of 2 September to accommodate a service phone call from an India-based company. I struggled in vain to talk to a senior officer and understand why I had to wait for another day for the activation to finally take place. Ultimately, the same phone conversation disconnected itself halfway through.
I sent angry tweets, Facebook messages, and emails to Airtel about this unresolved situation. Airtel’s responses were mechanical, to say the very least. In disgust, and eventually in distress, I decided not to pursue a resolution.
Imagine the wicked irony at the base of all this: a telephonic service that does not allow conversation.
On 5 September, Airtel finally activated the IR service—five full, unrewarding days after my initial request. To add insult to injury, Airtel deactivated the GPRS facility, so I could call, but I could not use my smartphone. Worst,I have not received a formal apology despite all the written and oral conversations, leading me to think that the company may have deemed the aggravations petty.
Airtel has failed to realize that in today’s astoundingly changing and competitive landscape, meeting customer satisfaction is no longer enough; in fact, it is merely expected.The most loyal customers demand—and deserve—a higher desire: commitment, which Airtel has shown me is unable to provide.
I have spent five years and hundreds of thousands of rupees as a loyal customer to this phone company. Airtel fails, and my evangelism for them ends.
I had taken Mick out for a drink in Amsterdam, so at 5 in the morning, he came back to my room. He's drunk by now, Mick drunk is a sight to behold. Charlie was fast asleep. Is that my drummer? Why don't you get your arse down here? Charlie got dressed in a Savile Row suit, tie, shoes, shaved, came down, grabbed him and went boom! Don't ever call me "your drummer" again. You're my fucking singer.
You can beat your own drum, but never beat the drummer lest he beats the drum out of you!
FROM BARBRA Streisand's upcomingWhat Matters Most : Barbra Streisand Sings the Lyrics of Alan & Marilyn Bergman CD comes the stunningly gorgeous "So Many Stars". The bossa nova classic was originally covered in 1968 bySérgio Mendes & Brasil '66; I remember it from its resurgent popularity on Manila's jazz fusion radio stations during the late seventies and early eighties.
On her recording, Miss Streisand once again demonstrates her remarkable ability to make a song intimate yet soaring. Even more uncanny is how, at 69 years old, she's able to navigate the scale without sounding flat and losing her very attractive vibrato. I've not heard a lot of harps on Miss Streisand's recent recordings, so it's a pleasure to hear them here (along with the rest ofWilliam Ross' orchestral strings) and capture the dreamy yearning that Miss Streisand invests this song with.
Here's the full track of "So Many Stars". I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
FOR KENNETH Bray and his son Chris, coming full circle means attendingNASA's finalSpace Shuttle launch together to "bookend" the first launch they watched 30 years ago. The incident also gave them an opportunity to replicate a picture taken of them in 1981; see both pictures above. Mr. Bray talks more about it onUniverse Today. It's an awesome achievement.
THE WHOLE wide world'selectronic data is not floating on a digital cloud. According to a well-designedinfographic fromMozy, the majority ofdata centers are clumped in individual cities in the United States, and on physical drives. That's quite alarming and disconcerting, especially in an era rife with terrorism and technological sabotage!
GLOBUS STORES, India's premier fashion specialty store, opened its 31st branch last week at Axis Mall inKolkata. It's also the brand's debut in eastern India, and the first I've opened forGlobus since joining the group in June.
We celebrated our entry into India's cultural capital with bright shouts of color on product, in shop fixtures, and invisual merchandising. The show windows grandly proclaimedFashion for a Changing Kolkata in reference to the city's recent, historic change of government. Inside, red arches complemented the variegated palette of Western and Indian clothing for young men and women.
I enjoyed working with the shirts and dresses to create the displays, and loved training the visual merchandising team fromMumbai andUttar Pradesh. They were a youthful, focused bunch of men (and one lady). I hope you can tell from the photos how much fun came with opening the store!
. . . ARE THE luckiest people in the whole wide world. Here'sone heartwarming story of aNew Yorker who got to meet and greetTHEBarbra Streisand in person. He also answered HER questions, hummed HER song to her, and posed next to her for aphotograph which he will probably insure for ten million dollars. Oh, he also made Miss Streisand laugh at his jokes. I would've frozen speechless in the presence of such a legend.
It's great to read about the larger-than-life Miss Streisand--famous for being Garbo-esque in her public appearances and for media's portrayal as a tempestuous ice queen--in such a down-to-earth, real-life form.
BARBRA STREISAND has released two tracks from her upcoming albumWhat Matters Most : Barbra Streisand Sings the Lyrics of Alan and Marilyn Bergman. The songs, "The Windmills of Your Mind" and "That Face", are available fordownload when placing a pre-order for the CD on Miss Streisand'swebsite.
I've been listening to both tracks for days now, but it's "That Face" that's been playing on loop. It's brassy, bumpy, and happy. The song was originally recorded by Fred Astaire, and Miss Streisand sings it with elegant sophistication that evokes a dancing Astaire. She sounds very mature on this track, her voice deepened with age (she's now 69!) and burnished with the glow that comes with nearly 50 years of singing brightly. The usual sighs, trills, and bellows that dramatize the best performances of her younger years are still here. They're fun to hear.
On "That Face", Miss Streisand reminds us that she's an actress who sings, a rare treasure gifted with impeccable delivery and unmatchable voice.
TODAY ISmy birthday, and I’m turning 46. It’s a fabulous age: you know you’re old enough to know better, but young enough to still learn more. I'm thinking how quickly I got to this age, since I seem to have just been celebrating my 45th birthday recently. Now I understand why the first 30 or 35 years of your life seem to be the longest and slowest--you spend all that time building up a cache of dreams, hopes, triumphs, regrets, fears, and tears. Turning 46, I’m glad to look into that cache that's now filled with experiences and wisdom, and even gladder to know that I've reached this age pretty fast and pretty well!
AFTER FOURyears in Kolkata, I returned to Mumbai last Thursday to begin a new role in the city, relieved after months of stressful decisions that culminated in this very moment. I am thrilled to be back to here. I’ll certainly miss Kolkata’s glorious food, fashionable winters, long drives to the suburban but dilapidated airport, and laidback attitudes of the cultured Bengalis. Mumbai has none of those: it’s India’s first truly cosmopolitan, 20th-century city, where every recipe has been tempered to suit a gazillion tastes, every road choked with motorists and pedestrians from all over India rushing to reach their destinations, and every minute filled with threats of time leaving you behind.
Yet, Mumbai is the city that gave me the very first welcome to Incredible India. This is where I’ve forged my earliest friendships and experienced the most lasting impressions. And because home ishow you've made it and notwhy, Mumbai has become more home to me than any other place in this sensational, spectacular land.
TWO FILIPINO executives in retail and consumer packaged goods recently visited India, and may have supercharged the increasingly favorable impression that Indians have on the way Filipinos work.
Donnie Tantoco, president of theRustan's Supercenters chain of value stores in the Philippines, was one of three international keynote speakers at the prestigiousRetail Leadership Summit in Mumbai last Thursday, where he gave an exciting view of retailing in the Philippines to an audience that included India’s retail CEOs and MDs. He also sat on a panel with such luminaries asShoppers Stop's BS Nagesh andFuture Group's Kishore Biyani; the scion of the Rustia-Tantoco family spoke about his family’s engagements with the Rustan’s stores. His keynote speech was one of the best applauded; my colleagues and friends in the audience approached me later with nothing but raving feedback on his talk. I believe this is the first time that a Filipino retail leader has been invited by theRetailers Association of India to their summits. I'm glad that Mr. Tantoco showed yet another thrilling aspect of how the Filipino thinks, acts, and works.
On another note,Del Monte Pacific has opened a new production facility for packaged food and drinks in Hosur, Tamil Nadu in southern India. The facility was opened in the presence of Joselito Campos, MD of Del Monte Pacific, last November. As we all know, Del Monte Pacific is owned by NutriAsia Pacific, which belongs to theNutriAsia Group of the Campos family.
Del Monte canned fruits and drinks have been imported in India for a few years now. The Hosur facility will make the products much more accessible and affordable to the Indian market. Hopefully, this localization doe not affect the unique signature Del Monte taste that Filipinos all over the world have grown up to.
MY THOUGHTS center on two messages that theUniversal House of Justice (the supreme governing body of the global Bahá'í community) has released in the past week to the Bahá'ís of the world. The letters provide lucid guidance on achieving spiritual goals, and they come so richly to me at a time when I crave deeper relevance in my daily way of life.
Thefirst letter, released on 28 December 2010, teaches us once again that “(P)rogress is achieved through the dialectic of crisis and victory, and setbacks are inevitable” and that such temporary setbacks “can be adjusted over time, if dealt with patiently.” At the same time, it strikes home a sharp reminder for everyone to exert even greater effort to ensure that self-interest does not becloud judgment, as we go our ways in a material world that increasingly ‘rewards dishonesty, that encourages corruption, and that treats truth as a negotiable commodity.”
The second letter, released yesterday, reminds us where to get that extra dose of medicine in our lives. It quotes the words ofBahá'u'lláh, Prophet-Founder of theBahá'í Faith: “I am the Sun of Wisdom and the Ocean of Knowledge. I cheer the faint and revive the dead. I am the guiding Light that illumineth the way. I am the royal Falcon on the arm of the Almighty. I unfold the drooping wings of every broken bird and start it on its flight.”
The Universal House of Justice 1 January 2011
To the Baha’is of the World
Dearly loved Friends,
For the past five days, the Continental Counsellors have been gathered in conference in the Holy Land, engaged in earnest deliberation at once insightful and clear visioned, well grounded and confident, on the progress of the Divine Plan. The joy and wonder of this gathering, now entering its closing moments, has come from the vivid retelling of your numerous exploits, deeds which secured the astonishing attainment of the goal of the Five Year Plan one year early. It is hard to express in words how much love for you has been shown in these few, fleeting days. We praise God that He has raised up a community so accomplished and render thanks to Him for releasing your marvellous potentialities. You it is who, whether in collective endeavours or individual efforts, are presenting the verities of the Faith and assisting souls to recognize the Blessed Beauty. You it is who, in your tens of thousands, are serving as tutors of study circles wherever receptivity is kindled. You it is who, without thought of self, are providing spiritual education to the child and kindly fellowship to the junior youth. You it is who, through visits to homes and invitations to yours, are forging ties of spiritual kinship that foster a sense of community. You it is who, when called to serve on the institutions and agencies of the Cause, are accompanying others and rejoicing in their achievements. And it is all of us, whatever our share in this undertaking, who labour and long, strive and supplicate for the transformation of humanity, envisioned by Baha’u’llah, to be hastened.
A new five-year horizon now beckons, rich with portent. The features of the Plan that will begin this Ridván are set out in a letter we addressed to the Counsellors Conference at its opening session and which was transmitted to National Spiritual Assemblies the same day. We hope that you will be able to give it thoughtful study, alongside the message we addressed to you at Ridván 2010, at gatherings of all kinds – whether at the national, regional, or cluster level, in local communities, in neighbourhoods and villages, or in the home. We are certain that, through the consultations about the Plan in which you participate, your understanding will deepen and. conscious of the spiritual forces that support you, you will resolve to make this global enterprise a personal concern and become as occupied with the well-being of the human family as you are with that of your dearest kin. It brings us great joy that so many souls throughout the Baha’i community are ready to thus distinguish themselves. But what gratifies us beyond this is the certain knowledge that victories will be won in the next five years by youth and adults, men and women, who may at present be wholly unaware of Baha’u’llah’s coming, much less acquainted with the “society~building power” of His Faith. For you possess a potent instrument for spiritually empowering the masses of humanity to take charge of their own destiny, an instrument tempered in the crucible of experience. You know well, and have heard clearly, the call of Baha’u’llah: “I am the Sun of Wisdom and the Ocean of Knowledge. I cheer the faint and revive the dead. I am the guiding Light that illumineth the way. I am the royal Falcon on the arm of the Almighty. I unfold the drooping wings of every broken bird and start it on its flight.”
Our abiding prayers are with each of you.
The Universal House of Justice
I hope these messages influence the way you lead your lives as 2011 rolls in.
FIVE YEARS ago today, I arrived in India to work with a startup hypermarket retailer. As I had never lived here before, the first three months were exploratory but greatly intolerable. Chaotic infrastructure, inefficiency of public services, and often fetid climate made me want to seek less confining places to live outside India. It didn’t help that there were no Filipinos I knew in Mumbai, where I first stayed (except for high school batch mate Gil Amilbangsa in Pune, and he had to leave a few months later). Worst, the Baha’i center was 20 miles by car from where I lived.
But the instinct of fellowship never disappears, even for those experiencing a different culture for the first time. I met people from all religions and walks of life—what other country, after all, offers such diversity?—and a lot of them have remained remarkable friends. It is easy to love the Indians of the mainland: completely at home, without any pretense to show off, they’re charming, curious, intellectual. They share stories, endlessly. In fact, they’re in their finest element when telling stories, with massive finger, hand, and head gestures punctuating their credible narrations. Best of all, they laugh at my mundane jokes. At least the ones I befriended, anyway.
Inevitably, there would be moments of isolation, but I have used these solitary moments to explore and understand the astonishing wealth of Indian spirituality and culture. As I lived longer in India, I began to find poetry in the slopes of auto-rickshaws and the shapes ofroti andparantha breads. I’m now drawn to the garish colors of its festivals despite the garishness of their colors, and to the harsh sounds of its crowded cities despite the harshness of their sounds. Such moments and places offer the chance to reflect against the material world, particularly in an India that has moved so far ahead of the incredible India that I first knew in 2005. I’m a more compassionate person today than I’ve ever been, and this is the best gift from living five years in India.
The Filipinos of Kolkata got together today at Roger and Lori Calvo's warm, spacious residence in south Kolkata to celebrate Christmas togetherness. As expected, there’s the exchange of gifts and tons of food. The first to go wassisig,a much-beloved Filipino delicacy consisting of chopped pig head—sounds detestable but truly delectable. I packed two full plates of leftoverpansit (Filipino-styled rice noodles) and porkafritada for dinner back home.
The most fun moments included a riotous men-versus-ladies dance competition, and I have no clue who finally won because everyone was just laughing their hearts out. I watched the teenaged offspring of Filipino-Indian interracial marriages rap and do the hip-hop, and I realized that mixing Bollywood with Pinoy-styled Hollywood is actually a great combination. (A Filipino with Bengali descent, by the way, looks so beautifully exotic!)
This is yet another of several Filipino get-together events in Kolkata. All of them are organized and implemented through text messages, and and today's event once again shows the ubiquitous power of text messaging amongst Filipinos.
GEORGE DEL Rosario and Lois Kimwell-Mijares organized a last-minute dinner gathering of high school batch mates in Toronto, and when I asked for it to be postponed due to tangled schedules, Lois didn’t seem to be too sure about reorganizing it. On hindsight, I don’t blame her: it’s not easy for those living outside central Toronto to travel downtown. While public transportation is accessible, it gets confusing if you’re not familiar with the city streets and the subway stops. If you do have a car, there are car-parking issues and confusing one-way street directions. Most of all, it’s always a challenge to organize last-minute gatherings of friends living all over a big city.
Well, the dinner did happen at the Masa Japanese restaurant in downtown Toronto, and it was fun. We were loud, but so what? We seemed to be the only diners in Masa that night anyway. Besides, what’s a high school reunion without the hilariously embarrassing anecdotes?
George didn’t change at all. Still boyish and fair, he seemed to be the youngest in the group. I quickly forgot how tall he was even in high school; he loomed over the rest of us that evening. He remembered how, in trying to apply a lesson in syllabication during Grade Six, we pronounced a Tagalog curse with five different accents. It’s funny just thinking how funny we thought it was back then.
Lois looks just like she did when we last saw each other in 2005. Either Canada’s weather suits her well or she’s splurging on age-defying cosmetics. I think neither: she just seems stress-free! She’s married to a Mijares, so we both decided that we’re cousins. (Mama is a Mijares.)
Bing Flores provided the laughs that night with his stories. “They call me September here”, he said, in reference to his real name Augusto. I still called him “Bing Bing”, his nickname in grade school. When I pointed at his lack of middle-aged tummy, he pointed to his gray hair. I’ll take his gray hair anytime over my big fat belly. This guy’s just hilarious.
Dr. Eva Pacaba- Buenafe came in an hour later; we ordered more plates of sushi on her behalf, which was a lame excuse for us to eat more sushi while waiting for her. The loquacious doctor provided us leads on where the other doctors in the batch presently were. I never remembered her as this effusive in high school. She used to ignore me back then, and when I reminded her about this, she gave me a perfectly valid reason: I was loud in high school!
A few other batch mates couldn’t make it that night. Ting Maramag-Espina had a previous engagement. Nancy Almazan and Randy Ibay were unreachable. Eva offered to drop us home; driving along, they all agreed to get together once again during Christmas.
On a chilly night in Toronto, it warmed the heart to be 16 (or 13) once again.
Flattery will get you places...in my book at least. Haha. How are you? You look good in your picture, then again Adobe Photoshop can work wonders, hahaha -- love you Paul. (",)
