APPELLANT'S BRIEF

I have moved ...

2011-10-07T19:42:00.004+08:00

http://appellantsbrief.wordpress.com/

What Men Want

2011-10-07T11:12:00.004+08:00

A study showed that the connection between women and shoes is very much similar to how a man feels about his car rims. While functional shoes do a good job protecting your feet, it is the pretty ones that women want. Car rims are no different.

So I got this bad boy ...

... these new shoes ...

If women like wearing those painfully high heeled pairs just because they look good, a man's car rims are no different. They are like the shoes he wears with a suit. They add definition and character to his ride.

Snapshot

2011-10-06T10:59:00.004+08:00

Children are made readers on the laps of their parents.

In My Defense

2011-10-05T16:29:00.002+08:00

No, I was not in prison for the past four years. I was not locked up in a mental institution, whether against my will or otherwise. Neither was I in a rehab or detox facility. The last four years have simply been extremely busy. Too busy to write down my thoughts, to make a record of what I see, hear and feel.

Well, it stops now.

(drumming fingers)

There and Back Again

2007-10-24T17:56:00.000+08:00

Law firms are typically organized around partners, who are joint owners and business directors of the legal operation, associates who are employees of the firm with the prospect of becoming partners, and a variety of staff employees providing paralegal, clerical and other support services.

An associate may have to wait as long as nine years before the decision is made as to whether the associate "makes partner".

- Wikipedia

In my case, it took them almost eight years to decide, including the fourteen months I was on indefinite leave.

More than a year ago, I received an offer to hed the legal department of a local retailing firm. I decided to accept, for purpose, passion and profit.

Seven months later, I received another offer to serve as in-house counsel for a Hong Kong based securities firm. I told myself, why not? Again, for purpose, passion and profit.

Another eight months later, I am back where I started. I received a phone call last April from my former bosses. They invited me back to the firm. Halfway through the conversation, I realized that they were inviting me back as a partner.

There was only a moment's hesitation. I have been engaged in the practice of law for about eight years. If I had learned one thing, it is that success, whether in life, love or law, requires an individual to control his destiny.

I do not have anything against lawyers (friends included), who have taken in-house positions. I am after all, one of them. Heading the legal or compliance department of a business enterprise, whether local or multinational, is an achievement in itself. I am a witness to the amount of pressure exerted on an in-house counsel, especially where the standards of his or her legal training conflict with the demands of the business.

However, save for a few exceptions, an in-house counsel will never be the captain of his own ship. He will always be an employee of the company he is lawyering for. As a rule, legal departments are expense accounts, whose sole purpose is to support the revenue earning departments. In this sense, an in-house counsel has limited control over the direction the company is going.

I celebrated my thirty-third birthday two months ago. It was the first time that I felt I had real control over my destiny.

Hiring A Lawyer?

2007-04-19T17:56:00.000+08:00

I got this from Matt Homann, a lawyer who describes himself as an idea collector. When you need a lawyer (or think you need one), it would be advisable to read through the list below. After reading it, you might want to think again.

If you are seeing a lawyer because your dispute is "not about the money, but is about the principle of the thing", do not be surprised if your lawyer runs away. You will never be satisfied. Also, it is really about the money.

You want to buy results, not time. Most lawyers sell time, not results. Make sure both of you understand the difference before your bill arrives. You will certainly understand the difference after.

If you want to find a lawyer who sells results, look hard. There are a few of them out there. They are the ones who can still smile because they get to see their children before nine o'clock every night.

Make sure your lawyer understands your business. If your lawyer does not understand your business, find out if he is going to learn about it on his time or yours.

How messy is a lawyer's desk? When they bill you for thirty minutes of "file review", how much of that time was spent looking for your file?

You would not automatically marry the first person you date, so do not automatically hire the first lawyer you see. A great lawyer-client relationship can last a lifetime. Your lawyer can be your advisor, counselor, confidant, and friend. Most lawyers are good people genuinely interested in their clients' best interests. Find one you like, stick with him, and spread the word.

Technorati Tags: Lawsuit, Lawyers, Hiring A Lawyer

Snapshot

2007-04-12T15:37:00.000+08:00

A Love Affair

2007-03-16T14:52:00.000+08:00

I was afraid it would come to this.

Three and a half years ago, right about the time my wife delivered our first child, I got involved in an affair.

It was more than just physical attraction. There was chemistry between us. She sensed that I wanted her, and I could feel that she wanted me too. We saw each other several times before I took the leap. It was intentional on my part. I had to know for sure that this was what I wanted.

Three and a half years later, the excitement is gone, the passion dissipated. Although I could still see why I had fallen for her, I find myself thinking of other things when I am with her.

Each touch used to feel like a caress, electrifying yet assuring. I felt out of place each minute I was apart from her. Now, I barely think about her.

Friends who have been in a similar situation say that it is too soon to let her go, that she and I still have good times ahead of us. Others say that I should quit while I am ahead.

I have made my decision, and I think that I should let her go. Feeling as I do now, my eyes straying to fresher and sexier types, I know that I will eventually resent being with her. Besides, she is still young. She could still find someone who will treat her the way she deserves to be treated.

I am thinking of trading her in with a used Porsche, probably a Cayman, or an Audi TT. Depends on the budget.

Whatever I get, I will miss her. We had some wild times together.

Technorati Tags: Motoring, Porsche Cayman, Audi TT Coupe, Used Cars

Honored

2007-03-07T15:45:00.000+08:00

Browsing through Technorati, I found out that this blog has been nominated. I am surprised, but deeply honored. Thank you, whoever you are.

You can find the other nominated blogs here.

Technorati Tags: Blogging, Philippines, Awards, Blog Awards

Help Wanted

2007-02-27T12:22:00.000+08:00

My firm is looking to hire a compliance officer. Essentially, he or she will be responsible for monitoring the firm's compliance with securities regulations in Hong Kong and the Philippines. Surprisingly, most of the applicants are practicing attorneys.

I have interviewed five applicants, all of them lawyers. I am not an expert, but I am a lawyer too.

So when they say, "I am extremely adept at all manner of office organization," I think what they mean is, "I have used Microsoft Office."

Or when they say, "I take pride in my work," what they are actually telling me is, "I blame others for my mistakes."

Or the statement "I am highly motivated to succeed" actually means "The minute I find a better job, I'm outta here."

What I did not know was that the applicants were sizing me up too. I interviewed a female lawyer who used to work for a very close friend of mine. During the interview, I remarked that I had been trying to convince her former boss to join our firm. She responded by increasing her asking salary by fifty percent. She reasoned that if the firm could afford her former boss' salary, then giving her a fifty percent increase would not be a problem.

Although dumbfounded, I still managed to tell her that I can disregard the fact that her former boss was more qualified, or that her asking salary was not commensurate to the functions she will be performing. However, I cannot ignore the fact that the salary she was asking for was not based on her assessment of how much she was worth, but on her estimate of how much her former boss is earning.

With that, I thanked her for her time and walked out of the room.

Technorati Tags: Compliance Officer, Job Interview

Lost in Translation

2007-02-23T13:07:00.000+08:00

My firm is in negotiations with a Japanese fund family for the distribution of Japanese funds. Since most of our clients would be investing from the United States and Europe, we need to determine the tax consequences of offshore investments.

So we engaged the services of a lawyer based in Tokyo. He says that investments from non-residents are not subject to capital gains tax, but are subject to a dividend tax upon redemption. On the other hand, the tax adviser of the fund family, who is likewise based in Japan, says non-residents are subject to capital gains tax and to withholding tax upon redemption.

Since I am not qualified to render opinions on Japanese tax laws, I had to refer the matter back again to our lawyer in Tokyo. Surprisingly, he says that his opinion does not conflict with the opinion of the fund's tax adviser. Apparently, what he refers to as a dividend tax is what the other adviser refers to as capital gains tax.

I'm still trying to sort things out.

Technorati Tags: Japanese Fund, Capital Gains, Dividend Tax, Lost In Translation

Hug You

2007-02-21T14:23:00.000+08:00

On the phone with my two-year old son:

Me: Have you taken a bath already?

Gian: Yes.

Me: Don't run around too much, you might get all sweaty.

Gian: Smell good. Hug you, Daddy.

I have been fighting fires all week, and it has left me exhausted and worn out. Sometimes a brief conversation with a two-year old puts things into perspective.

I close my eyes. Yes, son. I'm hugging you right now.

Technorati Tags: Parenting, Fatherhood, Hugs

The Client's Oath

2007-02-16T14:16:00.009+08:00

Do you swear to pay the bill, the whole bill and nothing but the bill?

Technorati Tags: Lawyer Jokes

60 Days

2007-01-31T12:41:00.000+08:00

It has been sixty days since I first joined my new firm. The job description said that I would be expected to divide my time between the Manila and Hong Kong offices. The working hours are killing me.

I miss my kids.

Christmas Past

2006-12-19T21:43:00.000+08:00

There is nothing like Christmas morning to a child.

Christmas morning represents the culmination of a year-long wait, the fulfillment of a wish after twelve months spent watching out, not crying and not pouting. As a kid, I remember waking up with excitement, thrilled at the thought of opening my presents. After the initial exhilaration, I also remember feeling somewhat sullen because, despite my efforts, I again succumbed to sleep and failed to see Santa.

Christmas morning had stopped being Christmassy to me a long time ago. Although I would love to wake up one morning and feel the way I did then, watching my sons as they unwrap their presents more than makes up for my lost innocence. Despite the chilly December wind, hearing their "oohs" and "aahs" and seeing their eyes fill with wonder would feel like the sun in my heart for a thousand more Christmas mornings.

Technorati Tags: Christmas, Christmas Morning, Christmas Presents

Kissing A Fool

2006-11-14T01:08:00.000+08:00

"Strange that you were strong enough, to even make a start."

She had to put up with my working hours as she does with the kids' tantrums, patient and tolerant as only a wife and a mother could be. And so on her birthday, I wanted something special to say to her as I handed her present. Something, like maybe a line from a poem or a movie. Anything to let her know how lucky I am to have her.

I was trying to come up with something to say, something as romantic as "you complete me", or as impressive as "here's looking at you, kid."

Something that could make her sigh, like when Nicolas Cage bartered away eternity to be with Meg Ryan, "I would rather have one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it."

Or something as pervasive as Harry's confession to Sally:

"I love that you get cold when it is 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle in your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend a day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes. And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's New Year's Eve. I came here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

But there was nothing I could think of. I was trying to recall the movies that we saw together, the songs that we loved listening to. Nothing. In a bit of a panic, I simply kissed her on the lips and lovingly said, "May the force be with you."

It was nowhere near as romantic as I had played it in my mind.

Anyways. Happy birthday, hon. I love you.

And, oh, "at my signal, unleash hell."

Technorati Tags: Anniversaries, Wife, Movie Quotes, Kissing A Fool

My Baby Sister

2006-11-09T00:30:00.000+08:00

It was born 29 years ago today. I say it because up until its second birthday, we were never really sure if it was a boy or a girl. It had an angelic face, framed by lovely dark curls. Long lashes curtained its eyes, a perfect dimple depressed its little chin.

I had not been around babies that much, but I knew it was cute as babies go.

There were times that Mom was pretty convinced it was a boy. Especially on cold mornings. But the debates lasted until its second birthday, when Mom and Dad, uncles and aunts, the parish priest and the family doctor, all concurred that what we thought was just excess skin was actually its weener.

From then on, I had a brother. We got rid of the little dresses and the dolls, and threw away his baby pictures.

From then, I had a brother. I had someone to bully and to be mean to. Someone to fight with when Mom and Dad were at work, and make peace with a few hours before they got home. Someone to do my chores, and be my Robin or my Tonto. More often than not, he was simply my fall guy.

I never really knew, until some years ago, why he agreed to all of these. It was not because he is younger than me, or that he thinks I am smarter or stronger than him. It was not because he loved me more and I loved him less.

All these years, he was just covering my back.

Happy birthday, bro.

You're my brother, and I love you. But please, stop shaving your legs.

Technorati Tags: Birthday, Brothers, Robin, Tonto

Will You Remember?

2006-11-08T02:50:00.000+08:00

My Dearest Son,

Two days to go, and you turn four. And I would like you to know that it has been the most fulfilling four years of my life.

I expect the next four years to be filled with amazement as the first, as anxiety-ridden as the second, and as fun as the third. And while I know that I will never have all the answers, I can only hope that I would know the more important ones. But please understand that there will be times that I would need to grope for an answer -

"Daddy, why do I have a dark spot on my pwet?"

And there will be times that some things need not be questioned -

"Daddy, why is your bird big and big and fat?"

Or when your questions are too complex even for a grown up to answer -

"Daddy, why is there always a bad guy?"

As you celebrate your birthday each year, you will realize that I have been fumbling with fatherhood, and that you, my firstborn, the love of my life, have been practically a test subject. And though you were the original model for an unsure father, you were also the fulfillment of my entire being, my purpose to be here.

With each birthday you celebrate, the days in between will fade from memory, yours and mine. That is how the universe works.

But as I sit here, right now, know that I have committed to memory all the looks that you have given me - happy, hurt and sad; that I remember our conversations and still know our secret handshake; and that I will forever hold in my heart the memory of holding a four year old boy close to me, and thinking that there is no other place I would rather be.

Two days to go, and you turn four. I am looking forward to forty more.

I love you. I will be here. Always.

Daddy

Technorati Tags: Birthday, Baby, Toddler, Secret Handshake

Purpose, Passion and Profit (Again)

2006-11-01T01:28:00.000+08:00

I tendered my resignation nine days ago. My second this year. It was hard the first time around, doubly harder the next.

Six months ago, I resigned from a job that I held for some six years. It was in that firm that I learned how to be a lawyer. Until now, when I come visit, the place feels like home. You would have thought that leaving it was harder than leaving a space I occupied for only six months. But it was not.

Maybe it is because the ties one has with old friends is deeper, harder to break. And the idea that those ties will not be broken by distance, or by the transformation that by necessity goes along with one's departure, tempers the emotions. Hence, in one's mind, departure is not the same as disappearance.

On the other hand, to leave a place one has not fully grown into, with people one has grown to respect, seems permanent. And the feeling that one could do a lot more, whether for the place or the people, is more pronounced. In this instance, leaving could very well be forever. Not because one chooses to, but because time was far too short for the bond that holds you to that place, those people, to take root.

Technorati Tags: Goodbye, Resignation, Old Friends

Holding Back

2006-10-05T20:58:00.000+08:00

Someone asked me for tips to detect whether a lawyer is good or lousy. Simple, I said. You won't see him coming if he's good.

I sat in on a conference yesterday. It was held for the sole purpose of giving an employee an opportunity to answer certain charges against him. Charges which, if proven true, may result in the separation of the employee.

Our external counsel sent Younger Lawyer to assist management. The employee was represented by two lawyers. I have full confidence in Younger Lawyer. In my opinion, his knowledge of labor law and jurisprudence is more than adequate to get the job done.

However, during the conference, Younger Lawyer asked questions that I would not have asked, and demanded explanations when I would have opted to end the discussion. I do not think that the answers given by the employee jeopardized the position of the company. Nevertheless, I would have treated the conference as a foretaste of the parties' respective positions during litigation. Thus, where Younger Lawyer saw an inconsistency, he demanded an explanation. Whereas, I would have stopped the questioning and let the inconsistency remain on record. I would have buried the issue and moved on or, as I have done in the past, gone back to a previous question, affectedly fussing over it, making it appear that the earlier question had material weight.

I tapped Younger Lawyer on the shoulder and suggested (whispered) that an explanation is no longer necessary. He smiled, immediately getting my point. But he plowed on. This happened several times during the course of the conference. Each time, Younger Lawyer would respectfully decline my suggestion. I did not resent this. Like I have said, I have full confidence in Younger Lawyer.

Later, he would say that the purpose of the conference is to elicit from the employee the relevant facts and that was what he wanted to do. He would say that my method was more tactical, geared for litigation. I agreed.

I am not saying that I am a better attorney than Younger Lawyer. Law, like love, sometimes demands no restraint, no reservation, no holding back.

Snapshots

2006-10-03T22:00:00.000+08:00

Lullabye

2006-09-24T23:56:00.000+08:00

Just put Gian to bed. Rocking him to sleep, I heard myself singing this song.

... so kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you'll wait for me, hold me like you'll never let me go ...

Go figure.

The Big Picture

2006-09-22T01:38:00.000+08:00

What I hate about work is that it keeps me from seeing the big picture.

Thirty-Two

2006-08-25T21:06:00.000+08:00

I used to look forward to my early thirties. In my mind, a guy makes it or breaks it during his thirties.

As I graduated from lawschool seven years ago, I was both hopeful and confident that the universe would see things my way. Seven years later, I have traded in smugness for humility, self-importance for self-respect.

At thirty-two, I am now housebroken.

At thirty-two, I have fallen in love three times. First, with a wonderful woman who still calls me by my last name, and then with two snotty-nosed boys who do not even know my first name.

At thirty-two, I have come to realize that legal fees do not grow on trees.

At thirty-two, I am tired.

And although there are times when I have to drag my feet to work, I am still excited about the future. While a bear hug from a four year old would occasionally give me back pains, I feel strong enough to survive another thirty-two years.

At thirty-two, I am tired.

And I have never been happier in my life.

Getting Old

2006-08-01T09:42:00.001+08:00

My 32nd birthday. Slipped out of a meeting to go to the mall and buy toys for the boys. Seeing how the loves of my life love surprises, buying them presents on my birthday is sort of like my birthday present to myself.

I'm getting old.

Song In My Head

2006-07-11T09:55:00.000+08:00

touch me and i will follow in your afterglow
heal me from all this sorrow
as i let you go, i will find my way when i see your eyes
now i'm living in your afterglow

Lawyer Speak

2006-07-05T17:18:00.000+08:00

Seeing as how my view on lawyer talk has been the subject of dissent lately, and just to prove that legalese isn't all that bad, I prepared some sort of a quiz. Simply pick out the meaning you think is applicable to the "legal" word. Knock yourself out.

"Ultra Vires" (a) an extremely persuasive argument; (b) possessing a reputation that is beyond reproach; (c) beyond one's legal power or authority.

"Curia" (a) a sound legal remedy; (b) a court of law; (c) with inquisitiveness.

"Gravamen" (a) a complaint or grievance; (b) a group of learned individuals; (c) a serious injury.

"Corpus Delicti" (a) a sumptuous dinner; (b) a crime or offense; (c) material evidence.

"Obiter Dictum" (a) to send notice about another's death; (b) a judge's remark; (c) an unending argument.

And the correct answers are c, b, a, c, b. If you can't see the answers, copy and paste them in a word document.

Do tell me how you did.

Accounting & Law

2006-06-28T22:39:00.000+08:00

I'm dreading tomorrow's meeting with our auditors. For one thing, why do accountants insist on using words like "bifurcate" and "accrete" when "divided" and "accrue" would do?

Neither Here Nor There

2006-06-26T23:27:00.000+08:00

It's been one month and twenty-five days since I started my new job. The shift from being external counsel to an in-house lawyer wasn't all that bad. Sure, there were minor nuisances ...

Like when people just barge into my room to ask for a "legal" opinion. As external counsel, my clients always called to ask for an appointment.

Or like when I get called to meetings without any warning. I mean, six meetings in a day?

Anyhow, I think I'm getting the hang of it. I no longer look up from whatever it is I'm doing when someone knocks at my door. I count to ten before I acknowledge. I discovered that the higher people get up the corporate ladder, the faster they peep around my door. Senior managers tend to peek in just before I reach seven. Vice-presidents clear their throats less than three seconds after knocking.

I have also learned to restrain myself whenever someone says something stupid. Especially when that someone is higher up the food chain. Instead of saying, "Are you brain dead?" or "What the hell did you say?", I now say, "Hmmm?" or "Hmmm."

First Week of School

2006-06-25T22:59:00.000+08:00

Anton started pre-school last Monday. Reckoned by adult time, classes last for two and a half hours. For Anton, however, being in a room with an adult telling him what he can and cannot do seems a lifetime.

It's been only a week but my three and a half year old son has managed to make me age faster by at least twelve years.

Day 1. A big day. The first thing Anton's teacher tries to teach the class is to form a line. The first thing Anton tried to do was to break it up. It seems three year olds will follow any guy out of a queue, especially if that guy is as tall as them and is making a run for the playground.

That night, I asked him what he did in school. Shrugging his small shoulders, he said, "Nothing, Daddy."

Day 2. Anton snuck past his two teachers and two teaching aides. He was able to slip out of his classroom unnoticed. His destination? The playground, of course. Good thing his nanny saw him running to the swing.

Unable to contain my excitement, I called home from work about three times before he finally arrives from school. When I finally got to ask him what he did in school, he just says, "Nothing, Daddy."

Day 3. Before leaving for work, I told Anton's nanny to try check on Anton during class. The first time she peeked in the classroom, Anton was playing with some toys by himself while the rest of the class was gathered in a group, drawing with crayons. The second time, Anton was aimlessly walking around the classroom while his classmates were being taught prayer.

So when I got home that night, I asked Anton what he learned in school. His reply was of course, "Nothing, Daddy." This got me worried. Either my little boy wasn't adjusting to school like his peers were, or his teacher was plainly ignoring him. As Anton was able to recite the alphabet and count to twenty before he turned two, I suspected it was the latter. And so I taled to him. As earnest as you could with a biy his age, and told him about the fun he could have and the new friends he could make in school. Before going to bed, my wife and I decided that she should talk to Anton's teacher.

Day 4. Anton went home with a star stamped on his hand and a cut-out caterpillar he pasted on a hotdog stick. His nanny reported that the teacher talked to her and said that Anton was starting to participate in class and had in fact followed her every instruction. I was beaming.

Day 5. Anton tried to make a run for the playground again. This time, he was not alone. When my wife talked to the teacher, she found out that Anton is one of the four rowdiest boys in class. It was every guy for himself from Day 1 to Day 3. However, Anton and the three other boys apparently came over their shyness on Day 4. From then on, it's been more like a concerted prison break.

Last time I heard, the teachers were going to hold a meeting to discuss the future of the Fantastic Four.

Pee

2006-05-10T08:56:00.000+08:00

This might gross you out. If you're a guy, you'll probably take a moment and think if it's happened to you. If you're of the fairer sex, you will perhaps thank God that you are.

On my way back to the office from lunch, I had the urge to pee. So I step in the men's room and well, you know, started peeing. I was halfway through the ritual when I felt the urge to sneeze. I couldn't stop it. Warning bells started to ring in my head.

"Achooo!"

All I could do was shake my head. I just knew I had pee all over my right hand (which I suppose indicates that I'm right-handed). Good thing I sort of controlled my pee to a trickle a good millisecond before I sneezed. Otherwise, I would have had pee all over my pants.

You're Being Watched

2006-05-08T10:50:00.000+08:00

Wifey and I went to see MI3 last Saturday. About five minutes before they dimmed the lights, Wifey pointed to a couple three rows in front of us and said they looked like my brother and his girlfriend. I couldn't make out the faces, so I sent Brother a text message:

Me : Are you at The Podium [name of the mall]?
Brother: Yup, how'd you know?

An idea struck me when I saw Brother texting me back.

Me : Just a hunch.
Brother: You saw us, didn't you? We're watching MI3. Where are you?

I let a couple of minutes pass. Wifey and I were giggling ourselves to a fit.

Me : Are you sitting in Row D?

A few seconds after I hit "send", Brother and his girlfriend whipped their heads back, scanning the nameless faces, looking for us. Of course, Wifey and I slid down our seats to hide.

I hadn't realized that letting other people know that they're being watched would be so much fun. Our giggling earned us a lot of irritated stares. But it was well worth it.

How To Spot A Newbie Lawyer, No. 1

2006-04-28T10:42:00.000+08:00

You can tell that the guy next to you in the elevator is a newbie lawyer if:

He looks harrassed but manages to brim with self-importance. (More senior lawyers tend to wallow in self-conceit.)

He spouts legal sounding words an octave higher than the rest of his sentence. (More senior lawyers tend to trade in their legalese for better pick-up lines.)

His tie is askew from carrying all those files.

He jumps everytime his boss swears.

His briefcase has a bulge shaped like a judge's gavel. Probably too scared to give it back to the judge after having ducked out of the way.

Legally Speaking

2006-04-27T11:19:00.000+08:00

Two lawyers were trying to negotiate a settlement.

"Look," said one, "let's be honest with each other."

"Okay, you first," replied the other.

That was the end of the discussion.

Worth A Thousand Words

2006-04-24T11:28:00.000+08:00

I was in Bangkok on business a few weeks ago. It was my second time in that beautiful and exciting city.

I'm not really familiar with tobacco legislation in other countries. In the Philippines, aside from the usual ad ban on TVs and radios during certain hours, a health warning is required to be displayed on 30% of the front panel of the package.

Tobacco regulation in Thailand, it appears, is more stringent. See for yourself.

A picture worth a thousand words, don't you think?

Leaving and Eulogized

2006-04-22T19:06:00.000+08:00

I've said my goodbyes last week. And now it's crunch time. Lots of stuff to finish, and even more to turn over before I leave.

My office mate, also a senior associate, sort of gave me a eulogy. Check it out here. *Click*

It's touching how people in this firm have wished me luck. Although I feel I will need it, I know in my heart that I have made the right decision.

Purpose, Passion and Profit

2006-04-17T11:20:00.000+08:00

The law firm where I work is a full-service firm. It specializes in corporate law, banking, finance, securities and litigation. Straight out of law school, I have been here for six and a half years.

I am going to miss it.

I resigned two weeks ago to accept an in-house position in a company in the retailing business. I am going to head its legal department. The offer was attractive, not only because of the compensation packagae, but also because management has allowed me to retain my own clients.

My friends from law school never found it difficult to leave their employer. This is because their employers have never reciprocated their sense of loyalty and commitment. My boss, on the other hand, has been both a magnanimous mentor and a devoted father to me.

I am going to miss working with him.

Stupid Questions Law Students Ask

2006-04-12T10:10:00.000+08:00

Rushing to your class, you inadvertently bump into your professor and send his things flying through the air. If your professor happens to be a retired justice of the Court of Appeals, can you be charged with obstruction of justice?

As a result, your professor was late for his class. Is this an example of the maxim 'justice delayed is justice denied'?

Voices of Summer

2006-04-06T11:42:00.000+08:00

Summer beckons. And all it tells me is that the first quarter of the year is over.

But summer beckons. And twenty years ago, I woke up knowing that the day would be different. Savoring that first delicious morning, reveling in the anticipation that a whole world was waiting for me to explore.

I could be a knight today, swinging my wooden sword at invading hordes. Or I could be an army officer, planning a raid on an enemy camp. Or I could be me. And play tag with my friends, or ride a bike, or watch TV the whole day.

And so summer called out. Infinitely expansive and full of possibilities.

Not today. Summer still beckons. But all it tells me is that you can be eleven only once.

Sunset

2006-04-05T14:41:00.000+08:00

Stuck at the office preparing a paper on why the public should invest in my client. I wish I was somewhere else ... maybe back at the beach watching the sun set.

Oh, well.

What To Do When There's No "I Do"

2006-04-03T21:34:00.000+08:00

Okay. Here's the situation. The bride is waiting outside the church in the bridal car. The wedding planner is on her cellular calling the groom, his brother or his best man. They're already late. Minutes pass by and nobody could find the groom. An hour later, everyone is abuzz. They realize that there's going to be no wedding.

Under Philippine law and as a general rule, the bride has no cause of action to sue the groom for moral damages. Neither can she, by an action for specific performance, compel the groom to marry her. Mere breach of a promise to marry is not an actionable wrong. The underlying principle behind this is the law's view on marriage. Our Family Code defines marriage as a "special contract of permanent union between a man and a woman for the establishment of conjugal and family life." Idealistically, it simply means that marriage is or should be based on love.

Others may think that Congress shied away from putting love in the definition because (a) of the pandemonium it would create to introduce a legal definition of love; or (b) love as a word is simply just not legal sounding.

But the truth is that Congress has no power to legislate on love.

Anyway. That is the general rule. Our Supreme Court has ruled that an act that is not against the law may be still be punished if it is committed in a manner that is contrary to morals, good customs or public policy. According to the court, "to formally set a wedding and go through all the preparations and publicity, only to walk out of it when the matrimony is about to be solemnized, is quite different."

I've read somewhere that wedding insurance is an established product in the UK. Coverage typically includes cancellations due to death, sickness or injury.

Cold feet, however, are not covered.

Spiderman Has Allergies

2006-03-30T13:37:00.000+08:00

We brought Anton to the hospital yesterday. He had welts all over his body. He was obviously suffering from an allergic reaction. To what, we didn't have the slightest clue. I asked him if he had eaten something we didn't know about. All he said was, "I ate three foods lang, daddy. Chocolates and pochie and chicken," as he counted them off on his fingers.

It turned out that he's been playing with the plants in the garden. So his pediatrician prescribed some steroids because the allergy had already spread through his sytem.

He's a lot better now. Good thing it wasn't serious, like maybe a bite from a radioactive, gene-altered spider or something.

By the way, happy birthday, sis!

Tattooing

2006-03-29T11:22:00.000+08:00

I've been bugging my sister to get a tattoo on her birthday. Just to convince her, I told her I'd pay for it, sort of a birthday present. She finally said she would do it.

I've been convincing my wife forever to get a tattoo. She finally said she might do it. I'm hoping she does.

My brother, on the other hand, is itching to get another one. He already has three different images tattooed on his body. Come to think of it, I'd probably cover myself in tattoos if I had a body like his.

Anyways. Moving on. I wonder why I've been trying to get my sis and my wife to get inked. I read up on the art of tattooing, and wasn't really surprised to find out that it's a multi-cultural thing. Tattoos have served as rites of passage, marks of status, and symbols of religious and spiritual devotion. In some cultures, tattoos also serve as decorations for bravery, sexual lures and marks of fertility. But what about today? The art of tattooing has entered mainstream culture and is, for the most part, simply considered decorative.

I got one only about a year ago. Before I finally decided to get one, I spent years looking for a design that I liked. I couldn't find a design that I was ready to permanently etch on my skin, so I made one.

The figures are runic symbols representing my name and the names of my wife and two sons.

I remember how it felt like the moment I walked out of the tattoo parlor. It felt like graduation day. It felt like a lazy Sunday afternoon. It felt like a swing from a sand trap to the green. It felt like freedom.

Natural Beauty

2006-03-27T21:33:00.000+08:00

The beauty of nature is really awe inspiring. It's no wonder that ancient people worshipped the sun ...

and even gave trees a divine personality ...

Studies show that there were already homosexuals during those ancient times. For this fraction of society, idol worship was done in secrecy. During one of our firm's archeological digs in Marabut, off the coast of Samar, we have uncovered their secret temple. Hidden beneath layers of solid rock and accessed only through booby-trapped passages, the temple is a testament to God's greatest and most powerful creation ...

Writings on the cave walls reveal that homosexual natives chanted and danced around this figure, praying for rain and a bountiful harvest. They would take turns cleaning this rock formation.

Legend has it that one summer day, a middle-aged native was polishing the middle portion with clean rags. He noticed that an insect had made its home near the base. Since food was scarce, he decided to eat the insect. Afraid that he would crush the insect with his clumsy fingers, he opted to use his tongue and licked it off clean.

Suddenly, droplets of what was bellieved to be milk pooled at the tip of the formation. The other homosexual natives found out, and all were convinced that they had been blessed with a miracle. The native who ate the insect was then crowned "Grand Manash". It is said that the Grand Manash lived a full and satisfied life.

College Daze

2006-03-25T14:17:00.000+08:00

Something I wrote back in college. Hmmm ... so that's why I asked her to marry me. Tee hee.

I am obsessed by you.

I can't get you out of my head. I don't mean that I'm in love with you. I sleep with you and I wake up with you, but most of the time I'm quarreling with you. There's no logic to it, there's even no pleasure in it. I have yet to see you when I don't want to kiss you. Every time you loosen your hair, I can't keep still. Every time I think of something funny, I need you laugh at it. And when I'm low, it's you I need to cheer me up. I don't know who you are, if you're anyone at all.

Yet you are complete.

One doesn't have to wonder what your interests are or what was the last book you read. When I see you, all my thoughts, all my senses, come undone. And it makes me indignant. It makes me a fool. It makes me want to wring your neck.

I am a total mess.

I am obsessed by you.

Snippet (3)

2006-03-24T10:13:00.000+08:00

"Maybe he'll go away if I close my eyes."

Snippet (2)

2006-03-23T18:17:00.000+08:00

"That's where babies come from?!?!"

A Story About God

2006-03-17T09:50:00.000+08:00

It was a Friday. The wind barely blew. And the people crowding Ayala Avenue knew it was going to be another humid night. The sky was just beginning to swell into a purple hue. A sign that said you had better be going home now. As if on cue, mobs of commuters quicken their steps. All of them like puppets dancing to the unheard music of life. Discordant. No rhythm. Sometimes sweet. Often times melancholic. Nonetheless, there was music there. No doubt about it.

For one reason or another, everything seemed to stand still. The heavens did not go dark. It was as if the sky harbored a wound that refused to heal, retaining its violet glow. The clouds did not disappear into darkness. They hovered, not a wisp moving. And the wind refused even the slightest breeze.

But not the people. They had their own worries. They felt it though. Whatever it was. Some of them slowed down. Some people looked up, half-expecting the skies to crash down. A few wore a bewildered look, their foreheads creased with a split-second anxiety attack. All of a sudden everybody seemed unsure. A cabdriver checked his oil though he just inspected it himself this morning. He did not know what it was, but something was nagging at him. A policeman unholstered his gun. Something was happening, he said to himself. An old sidewalk vendor counted her money. She counted it again. And again. Bus passengers looked at each other, their eyes betraying their confusion. Even the prostitutes felt it. Helen, a thirty-year old hooker who was just having her first meal of the day, decided against going to work that night.

Nobody was afraid though. Whatever was happening, fear was not a part of it. There was only doubt.

And then it was gone. As abruptly as it started, whatever it was, was undone. The undoing was not as dramatic though. You just felt it leave. If it ever happened at all.

Babies were born that day. People died. Politicians and oil companies did not think twice about stealing our money. Husbands cheated on their wives while mothers made a home for their children. Priests said mass. Rape victims tried to recover, thinking that they could. People danced to the unheard music of life.

It was the day that God fell from grace.

Just A Pinch

2006-03-06T10:17:00.000+08:00

I woke up this morning to find Anton at the foot of my bed. He had insect bites all over his face - two on the forehead and one on his left eyelid. He looked so miserable that a lump of love and sympathy clogged my throat. I stood up to examine his eye. His left eye was swollen as he looked up at me. He motioned to his left index finger and softly said, "Daddy, my finger won't move." He had been bitten there too, and the little digits were swollen.

I of course know that the swelling would subside. An insect bite, a bumped knee, a scratch, or a mild case of the flu, all these are part of growing up. Certainly, an insect bite does not warrant an emotional burst. But looking at Anton's miserable face, I could not help but hug my little boy and whisper that I love him.

I suppose this is how all parents feel when their child is hurt. Every scrape, every scratch, every slip, you feel a pinch inside. You hold your breath. You close your eyes when he finally gets up. You get mad because he never listens. And then you hold him close. And tell him that you love him. And a pinch of a voice inside you adds, "more than life itself."

Snippet (1)

2006-02-24T09:57:00.000+08:00

"You're hugging me too tight, Mommy."

Uneventful

2006-02-22T11:05:00.000+08:00

Tuesday, February 21

6:20 ..... wake up

6:30 ..... shower

7:15 ..... drive to imus, cavite for a pre-trial conference

8:07 ..... arrive at imus, cavite

8:40 ..... attend pre-trial conference

9:00 ..... drive back to manila

9:20 ..... somewhere along coastal road, decide i need a haircut

10:05 ... get a haircut along katipunan

10:30 ... arrive home and play with the boys

10:45 ... nap

11:50 ... Anton wakes me up, "It's time to eat, Daddy."

12:00 ... have lunch

12:40 ... take a shower

1:00 ..... drive to work

1:25 ..... stepped in the office

1:28 ..... check mail

1:40 ..... first client call of the day

2:05 ..... prepare an opinion for a client regarding rehab proceedings

2:25 ..... second client call

3:45 ..... finalize and send out opinion

3:50 ..... tailor arrives, fit new pair of pants

3:55 ..... third client call

4:05 ..... prepare answer to appeal memorandum

4:10 ..... call from a friend

4:20 ..... drive to metro walk for merienda (banana ice cream medley)

5:05 ..... prepare answer to appeal memorandum

5:40 ..... fourth client call

6:30 ..... off to the gym

7:30 ..... back at the office

7:32 ..... call home

9:15 ..... finalize answer to appeal memorandum

9:16 ..... check mail

9:18 ..... send out junk mails

9:20 ..... call home

9:30 ..... prepare for a hearing scheduled on wednesday

11:00 ... close shop

11:20 ... arrive home

11:25 ... have dinner

11:35 ... power failure

12:00 ... try to sleep

12:30 ... Gian wakes up

4:40 ..... power comes back on

6:30 ..... alarm clock buzzes

Funny

2006-02-18T09:48:00.000+08:00

De La Salle University Exams (Take Home)

Time Limit: 3 Weeks

What language is spoken in France?
Would you ask William Shakespeare to: a. build a bridge b. sail the ocean c. WRITE A PLAY
What religion is the Pope? a. Islamic b. Catholic c. Hindu d. Filipino e. Agnostic (choose only one)
Metric conversion: How many feet is 0.0 meters?
What time is it when the big hand is on the 12 and the little hand is on the 5?
How many commandments was Moses given? (approximately)
What are people in Bicol called? a. Ilocano b. Bicolano c. Americano
Spell Aquino, Ramos, Estrada: AQUINO: _ _ _ _ _ _ RAMOS: _ _ _ _ _ ESTRADA: _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Six kings of England have been called George, the last one being George the Sixth. Name the previous five.
Where does rain come from? a. Glorietta b. 7-11 c. Canada d. the sky
Can you explain Einstein's Theory of Relativity: a. yes b. no c. maybe d. i don't know
What are coat hangers used for?
Lupang Hinirang is the National Anthem for what country?
Explain La Chateliers Principle of Dynamic Equilibrium or spell your name in BLOCK LETTERS.
Where is the basement of a three-story building located?
Advanced math: If you have three apples, how many apples do you have?
What does NBC (National Broadcasting Corporation) stand for?

Working Out

2006-02-01T16:26:00.000+08:00

I started working out yesterday after 8 months of physical indolence. Finally.

Pablo Neruda

2006-01-18T23:11:00.000+08:00

I can write the saddest lines tonight.

Write for example: 'The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars in the distance'
...

I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.
...

I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don't have her, to feel I have lost her.

What does it matter that I couldn't keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.
...

I don't love her, that's certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.

Since on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.

Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her.

So Far Okay

2006-01-18T15:06:00.000+08:00

So far, this year is turning out to be better than the last. Four cases that I am handling have been decided in favor of my clients. These are not "big" cases. But still.

My boss always tells me that life is a balancing act of wins, losses and trade-offs. I hope to God that my losses do not outweigh my wins this year.

Pretty In Pink

2006-01-16T14:56:00.000+08:00

My nieces, Erika and Rachel.

On Our Fifth

2006-01-14T12:40:00.000+08:00

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

- Pablo Neruda

Five years ago today, I had an out of body experience. There was a man facing me. He was talking, but I could not hear what he was saying. So I tried focusing. I stifled a giggle when I noticed that his nose hair almost met his sideburns.

The man then said my name and asked, "Did you come here of your own free will and without reservation to be joined with [unintellgible] in marriage?"

I confidently stood up and said, "Objection, your honor. The question is leading." But when I looked around, I could not see the familiar robed figure of the judge. And somewhere in the background I heard a voice say, "I have, father."

Before I could move to strike the answer off the record, the man shot another question. "Do you promise to take [garbled] to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold you from this day forward, for better or for worse ..."

Again, I stood up. Faster this time. "Objection. For better or for worse? The question is vague!"

But the man continued, "for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health?"

Irritated, I again objected. "I vehemently object to this line of questioning, your honor. It is a compound question, and calls for speculation. I also do not see its relevance to the issue."

But what was the issue? I turned around and saw that there were people behind me. Lots of them. Smiling. A few were crying. So I looked around. And to my left, I saw a vaguely familiar face. She looked as if she had been crying too.

And so it dawned on me. I was getting hitched.

Five years later, I feel the need to renew the vows that I took that day. Knowing what I know now, I believe with all my heart that the promises I made that day were inadequate.

I take you to be my wife, and I give you my vow that as your husband, I will
always be with you.
I promise to love you unconditionally, in middle and old age, in good and bad hair days.
In sickness, I will nurse you back to health to the extent our HMO would permit. In health, I will always see how perfect you are for me. I will be your faithful friend.
In sadness, I will kiss your tears and hold you in my arms until the pain goes away. In happiness, I will do all that I can that no harm will ever come to you. I will be your protector.
I do not need you. I choose you.
I choose you today in witness of all the people who love us.
I choose you tomorrow in the privacy of our hearts.
I will choose you, over all others, every day, for all the days of my life.

After 1,825 days, I believe my marriage is, as Anton's favorite song goes, slightly weathered and slightly worn. But even lawyers believe in ever after.

Gian

2006-01-12T09:46:00.000+08:00

Dancing in on angel feet straight from heaven's brightest star.

here's another one ...

2006-01-11T13:04:00.000+08:00

Here's a postscript to my previous entry.

In court today, opposing counsel asked the judge to correct an error in the stenographic transcript of the previous hearing. When prompted by the judge to point out the offending error, opposing counsel said that the term "acua per line" should read "aquifer line". He then spelled the term for the benefit of the judge "a-c-q-u-a-p-e-r".

I felt a headache coming on. And it was only 8:30 in the morning.

Legal Writing 101

2006-01-10T15:55:00.000+08:00

We were taught in law school that a legal brief or pleading has only one purpose - to persuade. It is not to demonstrate to the court that you are smart, or that you possess a deep vocabulary, or that you can produce stylish written work. Thus, we were told that legal writing is a means to an end.

As I began my practice, writing legal briefs was a personal challenge. I did everything that I could think of to persuade the court that my cause was just and my client right. I quoted the law, the relevant jurisprudence, and the work of noted jurists. Over the years, however, preparing legal briefs has lost its flavor. I suppose this is partly because of the mediocre work most lawyers in this country create. The grasp of the English language, or lack thereof, that lawyers have in this country is appalling.

"Hereto attached machine copy of written agreement and marked as Annex B."

"But this requests were ignored by the defendant."

"The deed of donation is a product of forgery and falsification because of the false allegations and statements contained thereat."

In any event, I was suddenly in a place where legal writing had lost its appeal. And so I tried inserting literary allusions in my work. Sometimes I quote Shakespeare, Milton or TS Eliot. Now and then I am reminded of my teacher's admonition - You write because your job is to persuade the decision maker. You do not want him distracted by the things you write.

I agree. However, does not an elegantly written brief have a better chance of influencing the judge? Maybe. Then again, most likely not. But I would like to take my cue from the Supreme Court.

FPJ's death during the pendency of his election protest against GMA was undoubtedly fraught with drama. However, it was Susan Roces' motion to be substituted for her deceased husband, whilst claiming that she had no intent to occupy Malacañang, that provided the twist in Da King's biggest movie production. Not to be left backstage, the Supreme Court performed its role with a flourish. In resolving that FPJ's death wrote finis to the election protest, the Supreme Court quoted the Rubayyat and said, "The moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit could lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it." Quite a poetic way to say that FPJ's death meant the death of the election protest.

In 1990, the Supreme Court ruled that a high school teacher who falls in love with her student, and subsequently marries him, is not guilty of any misconduct and should not be terminated from employment on account thereof. Of course, the circumstances of the case were appropriately considered. What struck the romantic in me was how the Supreme Court worded its decision. It said, "If the two eventually fell in love despite the disparity in their ages and academic levels, this only lends substance to the truism that the heart has reasons of its own which reason does not know. But, definitely, yielding to this gentle and universal emotion is not be so casually equated with immorality."

If the country's driest and most imposing figures could do it, then I think a few distractions now and then would do us some good.

Anton-Speak

2005-12-20T10:40:00.000+08:00

Doblin, (n), 1. a grotesque elf; 2. Spiderman's nemesis; 3. a part played by Daddy, usually by lying on the floor pretending to be dead.

Pungkin, (n), a large orange-yellow fruit used for making pies.

Stinging Wheel, (n), 1. a circular object held by the driver of an automobile; 2. a very important part of a car.

Tic-fan, (n), a household appliance that causes a current of air.

Tusod, (n), a depression in the middle of the surface of the abdomen marking the point of the attachment of the umbilicus.

Violent, (adj), 1. bluish purple; 2. Barney's color.

Aloo. I love you. Sometimes said with a hug, sometimes with a kiss. Oftentimes, however, said absentmindedly or in a rush, and only to fulfill a condition for something the speaker wants, e.g., "can-I-play-in-your room-aloo" or "can-I-go-outside-aloo".

Suicide Monday

2005-09-05T08:30:00.000+08:00

BBC has reported that people are more likely to commit suicide on a Monday.

Go figure.

Angels

2005-09-02T12:39:00.000+08:00

Gian, Anton and Rachel

According to an old African proverb, it takes an entire village to raise a child. I tend to agree.

Law School

2005-08-29T15:16:00.000+08:00

It's been six years since I graduated from law school. I certainly do not miss it. Being in law school is like being in love. Exhilarating at first, exhausting for the most part. It was, however, fun in a sadomasochistic sort of way.

I had to do some research a few days back. This gave me an opportunity to go back to the Rockwell Campus. As I was parking my car, I saw some law students having their yosi break near the building entrance. Things have certainly changed. You would not have witnessed such a scene six years ago. When I was in law school, we actually got to smoke inside the building.

Anyway, my visit prompted some memories of law school. Inexplicably, the memories concerned Atty. S, a professor who was known for his meanness and sarcasm. His comments during class usually made my day.

I had a classmate who looked like Mike Enriquez so much that he could double for the newsreader without their own mothers knowing it. We'll call him Pedro. Pedro was the third in his family to carry his father's name. So instead of "junior", his class card read "Pedro dela Cruz III".

Atty. S taught our Special Proceedings class. One fine day, Atty. S called out Pedro's name from the roll. Pedro stood up. Atty. S looked at Pedro and read his name again. Frowning, Atty. S says, "Ibig mong sabihin tatlo kayong ganyan?" It took a moment for the comment to sink in.

Despite his rudeness, I could say that Atty. S was well-liked by his students. Well, maybe except Pedro. So students would usually chat with Atty. S before or after class. Atty. S and I were shooting the breeze one afternoon when a girl from another section joined us. She said she just came from the photographers who set up shop downstairs for our yearbook, and she was visibly glad about the results. Without any warning, she shoves the prints at Atty. S, completely ignoring the fact that we were in the middle of a conversation. Atty. S looks at the picture. Nodding, he says, "Maganda ang kuha mo. Parang natutulog ka lang." The girl snatched the picture and walked out.

Last time I heard, Atty. S is going to be appointed to the Sandiganbayan. I hope to God I will never have to appear before him.

The Love of Your Life

2005-08-22T18:53:00.000+08:00

I have been a father for almost three years now - two and a half to Anton and a year to Gian. My three-year stint at fatherhood certainly does not qualify me as an expert. I guess you could say that I am a work in progress. Nevertheless, there are quite a few things that I have learned. Things that, though they may not be considered parenting breakthroughs, might prove to be helpful to other young fathers.

I have realized that it is really a challenge to express love and set limits at the same time. This is especially true when your kid tries to swing from the couch to the mini bar using your hair as rope.

A two and a half year old boy is smart enough to spot a contradiction when he hears one. So when Mommy says, "Answer me! Don't talk with food in your mouth!" in one breath, Daddy should quickly explain that Mommy has been in a lot of stress lately.

Calling someone "taho" is not polite, even if they do look like the magtataho.

Boys need hugs and kisses as much as girls do, but they usually need a shame-free zone to express this emotional need. I believe the sport of wrestling would be quite helpful if your son refuses a hug.

When your kid says, "I'm sorry, daddy. I didn't mean to," you're already too late.

There are ways to teach your son how to pronounce the letter "v" other than by saying "vagina". If you already did, be sure to bring a lollipop everywhere you go. This would be the quickest solution the moment your kid says "bagina ... bagina ... bagina" in a loud monotone while you are waiting for your turn in a grocery queue.

These observations are not meant to establish a rule. Nonetheless, they may, to a certain extent, provide a guide when you find yourselves in similar situations. Fatherhood is stressful. It is inconvenient at times. And of course, there will be frustration. I was in court when my lovely wife messaged me that we were going to have a boy. I could not contain my pride. I could not suppress my joy.

So the next time raising a boy appears to be too stressful, close your eyes and bring yourself back to the moment you first held your son. There can be no argument. He is, without a doubt, the love of your life.

Mona Lisa Smile

2005-08-12T18:08:00.000+08:00

This is a first. And before I even begin to tell the story, let me tell you that I swear on everything that's holy that every bit of it is true.

I am handling an ejectment case pro bono, the first and the last I will ever take. My client is an old woman in her seventies. She is quite tall and has very fine features. Looking at her, you could tell that she was once a young attractive woman. We will call her Mrs. Tingiling.

Mrs. Tingiling purchased a small house and lot. At the time of the sale, the house was being rented by a middle-aged couple, whom we will call the Gamol Spouses. Mrs. Tingiling informed the Gamols that she had purchased the property and, considering that their lease had expired, asked them to vacate. The Gamols refused.

So we filed an ejectment case. In their answer to the complaint, the Gamol Spouses produced a Deed of Sale out of nowhere and alleged that they had purchased the property from the erstwhile owner. I spoke to the owner, and she executed a sworn statement attesting that she had never sold the property to the Gamols. I have also discovered other evidence indicating that the Gamols' claim of ownership is simply an afterthought, designed to defeat the ejectment suit we had filed.

I met with Mrs. Tingiling a few weeks back to discuss certain aspects of the case. During our meeting, she casually said, "Ipapakulam ko yang mga yan." I chuckled at her comment, and told her that would be perfect. I even suggested that she might want to include the opposing counsel while she was at it.

Fast-forward to the preliminary conference. August 9th. A preliminary conference is an avenue for the parties to expedite the disposition of the case. It is here that the parties enter into stipulations or admissions, and identify the issues involved. I had already explained to my client what the preliminary hearing would be about, so when I met her outside the courtroom, it was brief and perfunctory.

The judge came in. A couple of cases were called. Fortunately, neither of the parties nor their lawyers was in court yet. And so our case was called. And so the clock struck thirteen.

Our preliminary conference proceeded routinely. Well, almost. The opposing counsel, an old fart, asked me to stipulate that the complaint I had filed was defective. I denied the proposed stipulation, of course, and said that the proposal raised a question of law. A small argument ensued, with the WWI veteran pleading his case in broken English. As I was talking, I noticed that our voices, including the judge's, were getting louder. I looked at the judge, and she too was scowling. I don't think you could have called it loud, although the sound certainly caused us to raise our voices. You also wouldn't understand the words. It was some sort of a murmuring sound that you sense but don't actually hear.

The judge banged her gavel, and demanded to know who was making the noise, if you could call it that. All the heads in the courtroom, Mrs. Tingiling's included, whipped back to look at a woman seated at the last row. She was old, no younger than Mrs. Tingiling. She was all dressed in white. I caught her as she averted her eyes, presumably from the judge's stare, trying to look proper and innocent. A white-lady-in-waiting.

The judge asked her to stand up. She pretended not to hear. The judge banged her gavel again and, in a louder voice, asked the old woman to stand up. The white lady obeyed. The judge then asked her to leave the courtroom. Again, the old woman pretended not to hear. The clerk of court then went into the staff room and emerged with the sheriff in tow. The judge directed the sheriff to remove the old woman from the room. After hesitating for a second, the white lady exited, the sheriff following her closely.

After the conference, I joined my client outside the courtroom. Approaching her, I saw that she was talking to the white lady. A thought suddenly struck me, and I almost fell off the steep landing. As I walked towards Mrs. Tingiling, I caught myself staring at the old woman. I then shifted my attention to my client, but couldn't utter a word.

I looked questioningly at Mrs. Tingiling. She smiled at me. Pointing to the white lady, she said, "Kasama ko siya."

The smile said it all. Mrs. Tingiling had actually made good on her threat, if you could call it that. I won't be surprised if the Gamols don't show up for the next hearing. Scared, maybe. But certainly not surprised.

Groundhog Day

2005-08-10T10:51:00.000+08:00

You've seen the movie. Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania. The groundhog comes out and, if it sees its shadow, it's six more weeks of winter. If it doesn't, it's spring.

The plot is simple enough. Phil Connors, played by Bill Murray, is a weatherman for a local news outfit. Phil is cynical, selfish and self-important. He hates everything about Groundhog Day, the town, the weather, the people. So he covers the event as fast as he could. But he couldn't leave town because the roads have been closed due to bad weather. Phil is forced to spend the night.

He wakes up and, guess what, it's Groundhog Day all over again!

I wish it was Groundhog Day for me three Saturdays ago. Not too much rain, a bit of chill in the air. No pressing work and no urgent calls. No birthdays or anniversaries to celebrate. Nothing to do except to lie around the house and spend some quality time with my two little boys.

Play. "I'm Spiderman, you're Doblin!"

Eat. "I want something to eat. Pleeaase!"

Nap. "I don't want to sleep!"

Cuddle. "Aloo, daddy."

And maybe after a week of that, I'll try robbing a bank.

Anton

2005-08-10T08:54:00.000+08:00

Hindi ko mabilang ang mga araw na binulungan ko ang Diyos para alagaan ka higit pa sa makakayanan kong gawin.

untitled

2005-08-10T08:21:00.000+08:00

something i wish i wrote ...

you are the wind
on a mist kissed morning
while i
am the dust motes
traipsing around your
feet

you are the light
that takes away the
night
from the valley
and the alleys

i am that darkness

in my hands
you are softer than
sifting sands

but i can only touch you
in my reservoir of worlds

for i cannot touch you
in your nearness

we are closer
when we're apart

The G Spot

2005-08-09T16:27:00.000+08:00

I attended a hearing yesterday afternoon. The case involves a violation of R.A. No. 7610, nicknamed the Child Abuse Law. Without going into the details (and risk getting disbarred), I appeared as private prosecutor for the offended party, a dad representing his adopted son.

The courtroom was bursting at the seams, with orange clad inmates charged with kidnapping for ransom occupying four rows of the smelly Mandaluyong sala. Anyway, the opposing counsel, Atty. G, approached me and asked if I would agree to a resetting. We have history, Atty. G and I. And so I smiled, and flatly said no. Atty. G's nostrils visibly flared. I could have sworn I saw something move inside. I blinked. The thing actually waved at me.

Good thing the docket clerk called our case. Atty. G and I stood up, side by side, and entered our appearances. The room was rather damp and cold, but I could see Atty. G was sweating profusely. The judge told Atty. G that he looked sick. I turn my head to look at him, careful not to look anywhere below his eyes. And yes, he did look sick. Atty. G told the judge that he was not feeling well. He then took out what looked like a mop from his breast pocket and started wiping his face. To add some drama, Atty. G clutched his throat and told the judge that his mouth was dry. The judge looked concerned. Everybody, including the city and state prosecutors, craned their necks to look at him. I got the folder I was clutching and started to fan his face. I don't know if I consciously did it to amuse myself, but the laughter that ensued certainly annoyed Atty. G.

To cut the story short, he requested for a postponement. I knew that the judge was inclined to grant a resetting. But I wanted Atty. G to suffer a little bit more. So I objected. I told the judge that the next setting was 3 months away, and that Atty. G seemed fine to me. "Eh, kung dito pa abutan yan," the judge said. Atty. G turned around and glared at the giggling inmates. And so I tapped Atty. G on the shoulder, and said I will agree to a resetting so long as it would be the last postponement. Atty. G took offense. Addressing the judge, he said that the court should take judicial notice that he has seldomly asked for postponements in his career.

For those of you who had the foresight not to take law, judicial notice is an evidentiary rule that allows the court to accept something as a fact without need of proof, such as the official acts of Congress and the political constitution of our country.

I simply coudn't resist. I had to say it. And so I did. I told the judge that there is nothing in the rules of evidence that allows the court to take judicial notice of Atty. G's habits. I was halfway through my statement when I felt Atty. G blister with anger. I could smell his fury. He slowly turned to face me. I felt hot and cold at the same time. I knew, like Sir Patrick Henry did some fifty years ago, that war had begun.

Anton the Driver

2005-08-09T15:55:00.000+08:00

I'm no sexist. But I'm sure you've all read the literature on the Woman Driver. And then there are some of us who have had the unfortunate experience of being cut, tail-gaited, tail-ended, or slowed down, by the Woman Driver.

I have discovered, after a series of interviews, surveys and eyewitness accounts, that the male driver population is squarely split in two when it comes to close encounters with this phenomenon. Men belonging to the first group would, after a near death experience with the Woman Driver, simply shake their head and forget about the whole episode. Those belonging to the other group are less forgiving. They would blow their horns (eight sustained blasts seem to be the norm), roll down the window, and shout expletives with such relish. Sometimes you would come across a guy who hasn't caught on with the latest trend - you would find this poor guy attempting to stare the Woman Driver to shame. In any case, I have learned that these two groups (three if you count the dumb schmuck who thinks the Woman Driver gives a shit) are not mutually exclusive. One could, depending on his mood and the general traffic condition, oscillate from one group to another.

This is how I was able to graduate from the second group to the first.

I drive fast. I don't know why. It's instinctive. So I get annoyed every time a slow moving car blocks my path. In such cases, I honk once, and the driver normally moves to the slow lane. But there are exceptionally stupid drivers that hog the road, staying in the middle of the street without a care in the world. So I honk once. Nothing. I honk again. Still nothing. As soon as the opposite lane is clear, I pass through. And there she is. The Woman Driver. And I would instinctively say, whether I'm alone in the car or with company (but never in the presence of another Woman Driver), "pu***g-ina, babae!"

One lazy afternoon, my 2 year old son, Anton, was driving his red Little Tikes car, the one that came with a gas pump. His whole body leaned towards the wheel, his eyes intently fixed on the road. Naturally, car sounds and traffic noises sputtered from his lips.

"Beep! Beep!" as he pummeled the wheel with his hand.

"Brooooom," now shifting to second gear.

"Beeeep! Beeeep!" his hand now balled into a fist, his forehead knotted with concentration.

Then "tutang bae," he says, shaking his head.