Back to basics

By Netnet Camomot

IMAGINE the time you save by deactivating your Facebook (FB) account. No more posts to read, no more photos to like, no more PMs to reply to. You can now read books, clean the closet, sleep at least seven hours a day, stare at the sunset, spend quality time with family and friends—you know, those things you did when FB didn’t exist yet.

FB has even eliminated talking about future travel plans. You’ll just be shocked to see a friend posting photos of her trip to Mars or wherever her spacesuit had traveled to this time. You’re not sure if it’s politically correct to comment on her posts—if she hasn’t informed you of the trip, does that mean you’re not supposed to know? Which now makes me believe I should do the same thing, but since I rarely post photos on FB, I guess my vacays will remain unknown.

Our reliance on technology goes to the nth degree upon realizing that we’ve just awakened to a brownout just like what happened yesterday morning. The lights came back on minutes later, but went pfft again. The very-loud-and-proud generator next door also went on and off even during the brownout, which made me wonder how its dependents were surviving amidst the heat.

Why is that when we’re at the beach and frolicking under the sun, we don’t care if there’s electricity? We’re just swimming and eating and having fun. I don’t know about the younger generation though—they may still need their iPhones, iPads, and WiFi so they can post photos of their two-piece (iPhone headsets and shades—nope, no bikinis) while they’re there.

Technology has stolen from us the gift of savoring a moment. I remember taking a video of Sting while he was singing “If I Ever Lose My Faith In You” during his Manila concert in 2012. This was the song that brought back loads of memories of the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, way back when my life started becoming complicated. As tears flowed down my face, I was also busy tinkering with the camera and making sure the video was going well. Tsk tsk. What would make that video different from the ones already on YouTube?

There was a time when a bad day started with you pounding on the wrong alphabet while preparing a document via the Jurassic typewriter, so you correct that mistake with a correction fluid, wait for that fluid to dry or blow on it for quick-dry mode, type back the alphabet, and that’s just for one copy. What if you’re preparing an original with four carbon copies? And it’s not just one mistake unless you’re the best typist in the world. If you’re an emotional eater, you had probably eaten a pack of Choc-Nuts while going through the process of correction fluid, blow, wait, type, repeat all over again and again…

But it’s during brownouts that you realize how useful that typewriter could be—no need of electricity! Instead of email, the many copies of that document would be sent to its recipients through a messenger. That messenger may end up going back and forth throughout the day as he goes back to the office for additional errands. Nowadays, the cell phone does its job relaying latest updates on to-do lists—no need for the messenger to return to the office. But if there’s no electricity, well, just look what happened to Yolanda survivors.

Talk of going back to basics, last weekend, we had dinner at Centrio Garden’s Mercato de Oro where the song “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes” literally became just that for us. There was this one particular stall where the smoke could drive away mosquitoes, which is a good thing since those teeny weeny species might be bringing bad news along with their blood-sucking nature. But all that smoke was also getting in our eyes, our face, our hair, our clothes, and the mosquitoes managed to stay around. The food was yummy, though, but, no, we didn’t buy the pork barbecues from that smoky stall.

Mercato de Oro is a great idea—the food is not just yummy but also affordable, you could have dinner with just P100, and there’s a live band singing familiar songs, meaning even the oldies could sing along. That wasn’t the oldies’ original plan, though. We were waiting for a vacant table at a resto on the third floor, and just when the wait staff was guiding us to a table, we decided to go downstairs to Mercato.

It’s the last day of the month, it’s payday, and it’s the last working day of the week. Thank God it’s Friday indeed. To our editor-in-chief Herbie Gomez, have a great weekend, Herb—you truly deserve one.