Game of drones

Netnet Camomot

Reading old newspapers must be like watching reruns of “Game of Thrones.” You already know what would happen but still you’re reading or watching anyway.

It’s newspapers for now, until the two tall piles are read. Then, magazines after that. And, last but definitely not least, the books.

The news in those old newspapers includes the campaign season when the incoming president was still a presidentiable, and we, the madlang pehpohl, had no idea who would win.

Thus, there’s this old news about a certain presidentiable’s wife who supposedly already had a long formal gown for her husband’s inauguration. Zoom to the present, and here’s her hubby morphing to a travel writer as he goes around Pinas to thank his supporters.

The next six years will be, hmmm, refreshing? The incoming president is not a trapo—traditional politician. But then, PNoy is also not a trapo. But there’s a huge difference between them.

One doesn’t mince words, the other does.

One doesn’t use invectives in his speeches and press conferences, the other does.

One has no wife and has been rumored to be having girlfriends which the cynical and skeptical suspected were for public image props only, the other has an ex-wife, a girlfriend who’s described as his current partner, and is rumored to have other girlfriends.

The question now is, Who will be the First Lady? At first, Sara Duterte’s name floated to the top for that role. But she declined since she would be busy as Davao city mayor.

The current partner’s name also came up. But the incoming president himself said there would be no First Lady. Oh. Should we expect him to be the one cutting ribbons for, say, the opening of a new car factory?

However, these are all appetizers as the country prepares for a new president who’s not like any of the former presidents. And the anticipation is making a lot of people nervous. Especially those people who can’t live in Davao City anymore due to the city’s strict rules.

With those rules about to be implemented nationwide, those people may feel like leaving the country to look for a place that will be friendly to them in the next six years.

Imagine a Pinas where every Pinoy obeys the rules.

Where every car owner and driver practices defensive driving, and follows the speed limit, and stops, looks and listens at intersections, and respects the pedestrian lane. Wow!

Where minors are home or at least are staying indoors—wherever that “indoor” is—once the clock strikes 10 pm, and where peeps who love the nightlife will have to continue drinking at home—or any “indoor”—once it’s 1 am, and where people are not allowed to go roaming in the streets half-naked, i.e. topless, and where karaoke and videoke fans stop singing at…what’s the curfew for that?

And don’t even dare get confused with the curfew hours: minors, 10 pm; oldies, 1 am. Because a drunk minor, who’s still in his school uniform, can’t use this excuse: Oh, I thought it’s 1 am!

The oldies will probably complain, especially those whose nightlife starts at 1 am—that’s not happy hour anymore but simply the greatest hour, the best hour, the most wonderful hour, when some peeps who can’t hold their drink are already lying down on the bar’s couch, sleeping their drunkenness away.

But the one who can hold his drink, will drink some more, until 5 am and even beyond, while making bag-id bag-id with his equally intoxicated lady friend.

It’s a vicious cycle for the “professional” drinker: drink, bag-id bag-id, sleep with or without the bag-id partner, wake up with a hangover, work, drink again, bag-id again, sleep again, hangover again. Daily if possible. It’s time for him to analyze if he’s now an alcoholic because a daily drinking habit simply can’t be classified anymore as social drinking.

People drink to forget. To feel happy. To loosen their tight bolts and nuts. The tunnel vision once alcohol starts to numb their senses can be a welcome respite from the struggles that life offers on a silver platter. They want to have something else on that platter, and alcohol may help them imagine the thing they desire the most on that silver platter, ready to be devoured.

But that may all disappear once the 1 am curfew is implemented. Drinking at home or any sober indoor venue is not the same as drinking in a bar with all those people around you dancing and bouncing the night away. So, you go outside, even if it’s a parking lot, or this tiny empty space inbetween a truck and another truck, use Monobloc chairs as tables, and wish the curfew police won’t find you there. Perfect example of: “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

But with no eardrum-bursting music, no dancing, and no—gasp!—bag-id bag-id, drinking outside of a bar must be like watching paint dry. Better start the drinking earlier then, at, say, 6 pm, so that when 1 am strikes, you’re now ready to hit the bed with bag-id girl. Make sure, though, that the bed is located indoors.

The next six years will be different. We’re looking forward to it like the way the outgoing president is looking forward to sleeping, reading, and uninterrupted vacations. Let the games begin? Hmmm. At least he will have time to read the day’s newspapers and watch GoT, unless he prefers some other activity to fill up his free time. There’s no more pressure. Been there, done that. Ho-hum.