THE YEAR OF LIVING O.C.-ly

Remember when I had a blog? I'd weigh in on the hot actress issue of the day, post out-of-focus travel photos, make bad puns and quote 80's lyrics and whatnot.  Good times, good times.

This year has seen me have less and less opportunity for any of that. Particularly over the last few months, I simply haven't had the time or energy to do much extra stuff, much less write about it.  Heck, I wasn't even able to prepare for my own league's fantasy draft last month, or do any gift-shopping for my family this Christmas.

 say what?

The source of my blogthargy is easily traceable: this is the year my LL/DD was fully overtaken by my being OC -- Office Concierge. So 2012 wasn't quite the Mayan end-of-days for me, more of one of those "XYZ Trading Corporation" calendars made of dull recycled paper that everyone receives but no one but small hardware stores display.

Make no mistake, an OC is important to the running of a mission, and it's not as if I was relieved of my other more diplomatey work.  I also have nothing but the highest admiration and appreciation for my batchmates and contemporaries who are doing thankless, riskier work in far more dangerous/less comfortable corners of the globe. Being OC, however, sucks up all of my time and saps all of my strength, not to mention makes me play out of position -- like Wayne Rooney suiting up as goalkeeper, or Russell Crowe singing up on Les Miserables.  Quality talent? Sure. Essential role? Absolutely. Pleasant viewing? ehh...

Then as if on cue, I recently learned the following ads started appearing in Philippine newspapers:

 (they were right under the swimsuit pictures of our Ms. Universe runner-up. Um, so I'm told) 

Respect. I'm proud to say I know all of the above FSOs and have even done OC stuff involving every one them over the past year. On the other hand, I don't think their photographer will be contacting me any time soon asking me to join their modelling ranks because: a) I still have a noche buena double chin; and b) "On Monday, the LLDD moved office furniture around, counted personnel's vacation and sick leaves, argued over parking spaces, and inspected the chancery's basement water sanitation system.  The LLDD is an OC. You could be one, too" miiiight not be catchy enough for purposes of attracting the best and the brightest to the foreign service.       

Still, I count my blessings every day and thank God for where I am and what I have.  Work is work, service is service, whether as an LL, DD or OC.  So au revoir 2012, bring on 2013.  Whatever happens, I'll still have all that is truly important and that brings me the greatest joys: impending Star Wars Episodes 7-9, timely Cracked articles (Philippines No. 1!), and a family that loves me no matter what*.

(*"What" being all the Christmas-shopping I failed to do) 

Revenge will be mine, daddy. Even if it lands me on Santa's 2013 "naughty" list, revenge will be mine.

VOLLEY WALA

I know it's hard to believe now, but I didn't always have this studly bod and image.  Although I was always reasonably athletic, from grade school through high school I was substantially short and scrawny for my age.  In all-boys La Salle, this meant the only team sport I could try out for was volleyball.  I did make the Junior Varsity team (referred to back in the day as the "Midgets"), but in the school's coolness scale that placed me  somewhere just above the Leaf Collectors club and well below the Dungeons and Dragons crowd.    

All that changed in college and law school, where I filled out, grew up, and volleyball became...well, volleyball was still not cool BUT now there were girls who needed me to complete their six-a-side sportsfest teams!  Good enough! 

Fast forward to London 2012.  I bid for dozens of tickets to multiple events.  Through the genius of the ticketing system, I have my credit card debited unspecified amounts for undisclosed sports, and only weeks afterwards am I officially informed that I was gloriously allocated Olympics tickets...to Women's Indoor Volleyball. And nothing but Women's Indoor Volleyball. Four. Straight. Days of Women's Indoor Volleyball.

All this is a long winded way of saying: all you're getting out of the London Olympics from me are the previous craption posts, and these things I learned watching the same women's indoor volleyball teams...over and over and over again.

They really need to work on the players' intros 

Considering these were some of the most powerful, agile and graceful athletes in the world, there was nothing dorkier than the way Olympic women's volleyball players went out onto the court.  Run, half-jump then mid-air patty-cake?  Really?  I'm not saying you need a fog-machine or anything, and maybe a full-on body thump is too much too ask, but surely a little hip-bump-afta-da-jump is doable, ladies?


I heart Logan Tom

After the PA announcer introduced Logan Tom, I kept trying to remember where I had heard her name before.  Then it came to me. But lest you think she's of the Kournikova/Wie style-over-winning variety of athlete, I thought she was in fact one of the best players on the USA team, never saw her rest or substituted, and kept hearing the guy behind me say "Man, Tom's got guns!" referring to her wicked strong serves. (at least, I hope he was referring to her serves)  

(BTW, Logan Tom wasn't even the best name/talent combo on the USA squad.  That would be Destinee Hooker) 

"We are the Champions" should only be played after the Gold medal match, not as timeout karaoke, dammit!

I mean, is nothing sacred? 


Brazilians don't need no P.A. announcer telling them to "make some noise"

They can spontaneously samba on their own, thank you very much.  I truly believe what lifted Brazil to gold over the previously undefeated Americans was their fans, I really do.  (on the other hand...Logan...you must be devastated by your loss...you might be looking for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on...someone who understands the game and what it means to you...someone who, I don't know, maybe played midgets volleyball from grade school to high school...)

An innocent game of "Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" with the LLDD-baby can inadvertently turn into the Mexican Wave


Sorry about that.


The real stars of the games?  Los Wipers

Heroes, every single one of them.  Despite their mesmerizing choreography and movements and their more-frequent-than-you'd-think-because-of-all-the-TV-timeouts calls to action, the wipers received little respect, let alone adulation, from the fans.  Among other things I heard from the crowd: "Five bucks the fat one trips over her mop" (and she did); "He's lazy, that one in the middle is lazy!"; and my favourite "There's no style to it. You have to wipe with style."

Ignore them, young ones, just ignore them. I, for one, am truly envious of your position.

(because basically, that's Logan Tom's sweat you're wiping down there)

BECAUSE OLYMPICS, THAT'S WHY

Every dad strikes the "Usain Dork" pose if within sight of the rings.

At tube stations near event venues, you see random things like an African man rocking an expensive piña barong, formal pants and hippie sandals....and don't even bother asking why.

Some Canadian dudes knock on the door of the Embassy asking for Philippine Olympic lapel pins, come away with buri hats instead (which is cool, because chicks love the buri)

At the Olympic Village cafeteria, you think it's a good idea to match your country's 100+ kg judoka's carbo-loading.  

(it isn't)

It's never too early to expose your child to the unusuawesomeness that is Japan fans.

During a reception for some Olympic Guard of Honor schoolkids, our claim to the Kalayaan Islands is depicted....through cupcakes! 

Kalayum-yum!

At the Italy v. Algeria volleyball game, an Embassy's administrative officer finds the plumbers he needs for some chancery repairs.

BBC decides to play "Gold" after every win.  I've been saying this for years.

(Tony's also been carbo-loading, I see)

And every parent now thinks their kid can grow up to be an Olympian. Heck, even the LLDD-baby shows some Olympic potential...as a diving judge.

If that doesn't restore your faith in humanity, Phelps you, I don't know what will. 

CRAPTIONS: SPECIAL OLYMPIC EDITION IV

ummm....

• Well, someone's happy to see me.
• The Olympics are comin......You know what? We can waste time trying to come up with more craptions, but we all know where this is headed.  So let's all just stop giggling, be mature for once, have fun watching the Games, and -- altogether now! -- GO! RE-PUB-LI-KA, NG PI-LI-PI-NAS! GO! RE-PUB-LI-KA, NG PI-LI-PI-NAS!  
• (giggle)

CRAPTIONS: SPECIAL OLYMPIC EDITION III

On your mark, bed set . . .

• I should be tested for a performance enhancing drug, if you know what I mean.
• The sheets double as mats and instructions for Olympic Twister, if you know what I mean.
• I always believed post-practice should also be shirts against skins, if you know what I mean.
• Lots of room to work on your backstroke here, if you know what I mean
• Usain Bolt is not the only one with a sub-10 second time, if you know what I mean.

(I Olympicly dedicate this entire post to the LLDD-Hyphen-L...if you know what I mean)

CRAPTIONS: SPECIAL OLYMPIC EDITION II

• The torch relay was briefly interrupted when some embassy admin officer decided to check his chancery's smoke detectors
• The lightsaber bout between the young Jedi Attaché Olympic and the giant Sith Darth Glandular was epic, but couldn't always be caught within the TV camera's frame. 
• Pau Gasol came through the Olympic Park's smoking section asking "boss, may sindi ka?" and I delivered, dammit!  
• Gold torch, silver tie, bronze bod. Hell yeah.
• Lost in all the Nikes and Coca-Colas and McDonalds is the fact that Tawas is also an official Olympic sponsor.

CRAPTIONS: SPECIAL OLYMPIC EDITION I

On your mark, get set. . .

• This is what happens when Rajo Laurel spends all of his budget for the Philippine Olympic team barongs on design and tailoring, and leaves nothing for hiring models.
• Our men's individual synchronized swimmer looks out of shape.
• The consular outreach mission to Olympic Park was efficient and finished early, but really, we only  had 11 athletes to serve. 
• In the spirit of the Olympic truce, Captain DFA reveals his secret identity.
• What do you mean this isn't Bajo de Masinloc?!?

Bonus Olympic poll! Below are the podium occupants who immediately preceded the LLDD 

Now, in the spirit of Citius Altius Fortius, determine: who's hotter?

Hey! No fair jumping!

IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWWWNNNNNNNNNNN...

 dah-na-na-nuuuuh, dah-na-na-na-nuh....

Crunch time.  The Olympics are just a few days away, and everyone is stressing.  Athletes are nervous over their training, tourists are anxious about bookings, embassies are occupied with visiting delegations - even I'm having sleepless nights over what to do with the LLDD-Hyphen-L and LLDD-baby during the games.    

"anak, wala talagang ma-score na tickets si daddy"

The one who's under the most strain, of course, is London.  To bring you up to speed on what's going on,  here's a quick special Olympic edition of "Travel Advisory":

• When I said London was under a lot of pressure and cracks were starting to show, I didn't mean, you know, literally.
• Immigration officers will go on strike the day before the start of the games.  In an obvious wala 'yan sa lolo ko move, train drivers vote to strike for three days during the Olympics.
• You know how in the movies, military types like to say "failure is not an option."  Well, London just discovered that thousands of its hired Olympic security personnel consider work "attendance-optional" 
• Maybe if the bus drivers here operated on a "boundary" system... 
• I heard the non-stop rain turned Hyde Park into a mud pit, forcing the cancellation of several Olympic run-up concerts including...oh...oh God, no...NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!  

Puts the whole "CICC has a leak" hysteria into perspective, doesn't it?

*********

(UPDATE! By the time you read this, you would have heard of the Korean football flag flap.  The funny thing is, just a week earlier, organizers had expressed confidence nothing of the sort would happen during the games.  The whole thing is a cautionary tale for all FSOs and protocol officers out there, and "Borat" should forever haunt them in their sleep.  High five!)

*********

Still, I have faith London will pull through and stage a great games. Why?  Because I had the privilege of joining Team Philippines' Olympic Village Welcome Ceremony -- the delegation's first and defining impression of London organizers -- and it was one of the sharpest, happiest, trippiest things I have ever seen up close.  By the time it was over I was skipping along and bursting into uncontrollable fits of laughter.  Like all Olympians should.

      

Because if performance art and "Don't Stop Me Now" don't work, what hope is there for humanity?  

  

IT'S SATURDAY, I MUST BE IN...SWANSEA

We've become so efficient with our consular outreach missions that we're in and out of British cities so quick, I've now run out/can't think of grand themes or hooks for the corresponding blog posts.  For instance, who can forget the great "Very Special Episode/Viva Hotbabes reunion/I love the 90s/Dolphy retrospective/Star Wars trilogy" story arc I wrote for our trip to Newcastle-upon-Tyne? Neither can I.

Anyway, for lack of talent and theme, let's just see if we - as they love saying here in the UK- ticked all the boxes while in Swansea:

Meet the local government heads, leave with bling envy

tick

During the drive back to town, spot the local challenger to the Philippines' "Petal Attraction"  

"Herr Kutts".  tick (barely)

Meet a dozen or so different Fil-com leaders for dinner, happily have a 25-minute picture-picture session involving a dozen or so different cameras

click

Hold the outreach mission in a hospital rec room, convert foosball table into reception desk

tick (and score!)

As we finish and head home, watch the rain finally stop

tick

but new for Swansea: panoramic!

To be fair, there is one thing the consular team does -- and always does -- whenever it's in Swansea that it can't do anywhere else: get lost while searching for the home of Catherine Zeta-Jones 

based on the video's comments section, it's kinda a Swansea thing

CRAPTIONS: INDEPENDENCE MONTH SPECIAL EDITION

What the freedom is going on here? 

• This being Britain, the crowd for the giant-screen viewing of Pacquiao-Bradley had to be properly behaved, lined and attired.
• The Department of Tourism just rolled out London's first ever "More Fun in the Philippines" triple-decker bus.
• Horribly misunderstanding how online map searches work, I make everyone come in national dress and mark the Embassy with an "x" for the Google Earth satellite.    
• Heathrow wouldn't let us all personally send off the President, so we just stood outside and waved at the passing planes.
• "Look up in the sky....it's Captain DFA!"

 The correct answer, of course, is far more awesome (if a lot less funny) 

UNVEILED VISIT! WITH PICTURES YOU WERE NOT MEANT TO SEE!

...mainly because my pictures suck.  But my thinking is, if you want high-quality footage of the visit (and numerous LLDD cameos!), you go to RTVM's youtube channel or PCOO's archives or any other big media outlet.

On the other hand, if you want hasty shots taken 10 seconds before/after or 10 feet to the right/left of said high-quality stuff, I'm your guy. Thus:

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN  

The Arrival

WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

Even pilots gotta get them some picture-picture

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN

The Embassy staff greeting line

WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

About half of the Embassy personnel were nursing coughs and colds that night.  It was probably the combination of London weather, lack of sleep, and cramped and stuffy secretariat rooms.  That we wiped out the junk food tray at the bottom left while the healthy fruit tray right beside went untouched didn't help things either.

Bonus What You Might Not Have Seen: by a small miracle of timing, the official convoy pulled up at the hotel exactly as the nearby Jubilee concert was ending.  Had the convoy approached even just two minutes later, it would have gotten stuck in traffic for ages behind the 100,000-strong concert crowd spilling out onto the streets.  As it turned out, the President stepped out of his car and headed towards the greeting line just as the closing fireworks were going off.  We had half a mind to take credit for the pyrotechnics and say they were really meant to welcome him, until someone wisely pointed out "ok, what if he expects something for his departure?"     

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN

The Museum Visit

WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

There's nothing more feel-good than visiting a public place and then getting a spontaneous photo-op with happy kababayans who happen to be there.  In the case of the lady above, her British husband who worked at the museum phoned her at home and told her "get over here, your President is here!"  She then rushed to the museum to try and catch the President and maybe get some picture-picture.  When she arrived, most of the Presidential entourage were still deep inside a basement exhibit, so she patiently waited at the main hall.  She was excited, but for some reason also noticeably nervous.  In turned out she hadn't been to the Philippines since the 90s, and had no idea what the current President looked like!  So as the entourage began filing out of the exhibit, people began playfully joking to her "O, 'yan na ba? S'ya na ba 'yan? Sigurado ka?" and "Baka kay Presidente mo maabot yung camera mo at siya pakunan mo ng litrato, ha!"  =)       

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN

The "More Fun" Photoshoot

WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

Ah, the best laid plans.  A fleet of "More Fun" taxis and a double-decker bus were neatly lined up right outside the hotel and ready for their close-up. Then London weather happened.  Everything outdoors was drenched, and the group photo-op as originally planned was no longer doable.  So a spot decision was made: the bus would be re-positioned at the hotel driveway (where it blocked traffic temporarily), and the stage would be rebuilt under the edge of balcony (where those at the front row would be ok, but those in the rear [such as me] would get the backs of their clothes wet).  In the end, they pulled off the photo-shoot, but it was very much think-on-your-feet makeshift stuff.  

(speaking of makeshift, you may wish to keep a mental note that those "More Fun" goodie bags apparently also make excellent interview backdrops)

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN

The Speech to the Fil-Com

WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

The ballroom where the speech was made had a big main entrance, and the audience thought the VIPs would be entering through there and therefore all faced that way.  So anyone (including moi) who walked into the room close to the scheduled start of the program was greeted by excited shouts and flashing bulbs, like they were movie stars on a red carpet.  I may or may not have entered and exited the room several times just to milk this.  Anyway, the crowd will realize the President actually arrived through a small entrance at the opposite end of the room in 3...2...1...

....there we go

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN

The Official Luncheon

WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

Alas, we've come to the stage of the visit that was so high-level, I wasn't invited or allowed anywhere near any of the activities.  So for the official luncheon, I got nothing for you except pictures of our advance site recon (I still refuse to call it " 'reccy'-rhymes-with-Becky"), and the bit of trivia that the place where the lunch was held was also where they shot the climactic scene of the critically acclaimed and award winning "The King's Speech."

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN

The Official Meeting



WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

Again, I didn't get a sniff of the place during the actual activity.  All I have are these recon pics and the assurance that No. 10 in person looks nothing like what was shown in the critically acclaimed and award winning "King Ralph" 

WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE SEEN

The Palace Visit

WHAT YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE SEEN

Well, duh! If I couldn't get in the luncheon or in No. 10, of course I wouldn't be able to get into into the Palace!  I just told myself that it's not the place for someone of my rank and stature, and only the highest officials and crème-de-la-crème of society may enter and grace its regal grounds  

  

what the bloody hell...