Thursday, October 29, 2009

If cars had souls

10.28.09

This morning I pushed a car. Not just any car, I pushed Tatau. For the first few seconds I did it alone, until a helpful sidewalk vendor and his friend Ate Metro Aide came to my rescue. I didn’t know how to jumpstart a car, so dad had to take the wheel.

So we crossed Buendia, me in my glorious lemon yellow shirt, pushing a red car for all the world, well, for all the frontliners along that intersection, to see.

Embarrassing? Not really. Early morning work-out, definitely.

Weniwei, I still can’t get over the fact that even as cars have no souls, Tatau seems to care. Yes, the fanbelt wore out that’s why the battery didn’t charge. But it still carried on until it couldn’t run no more. It stopped a few meters from dad’s office.

And in the evening, the engine overheated…while we were still near dad’s office. So the necessary first aid was administered. Dad taught me a lesson about not opening the radiator cover when it’s smoking hot. “Wag kang matataranta pag nag-overheat” He said. Just pour some water on the radiator. Wait for it to cool down a few seconds. Wrap your hands to protect yourself when you carefully open the radiator cap—provided you’ve already let it cool down a bit…you’ll know once the steam stops from blowing over. Much like handling some hotheaded person, like say…me.

Dad had car troubles 3 times over. Twice with Tatau, once during midday when he took an office service to visit their Manila office. On all occasions, the cars conked out a few meters from his office---just at the right place & time (if there ever is a ‘right time’ for something to conk out) if you may.

And as we drove home we talked about Tatau. How he’s never let us down. He’s an old car. I’ve had it since college, and we bought it second hand. We didn’t meet the right way. I was still in love with Pacha—my first car (technically not mine, well, neither is Tatau—they’re both dad’s really), the blue macho Galant which we had to sell because supposedly, it guzzled gas. But really it had reasonable consumption levels. Anyway, that car never let me down too. I’ve had numerous trips to the repair shops, befriended mechanics from Servitek to the hole in the wall talyers. And everytime it had to stop (I say had, because I feel it tried to go on for as long as he safely could), it always happened in a safe place—either a few meters off a repair shop, or in a well-lit spot just right for towing. I loved that car. Felt like driving around with a sala set. I felt safe in its bigness. But we parted so suddenly. And the Blue car suddenly became red. Corolla red, as red as my eyes the day I first saw it and cried for dear Pacha.

First time I put the key in the ignition, it wouldn’t even start. Apparently one had to pump the gas pedal thrice before it starts. A quirk which only Tatau’s friends knew. But we soon became friends. And soon, the same trust I gave Pacha, Tatau earned.

I name my things. It makes them easier to talk to. I don’t know if they can hear me, but it feels like they do. Because all these years, they’ve always seemed to talk back. When Tatau’s sick, he sounds different. But normally, he’s just the type to have the quirks which probably first-hand car owners would worry about, but second-hand car drivers get used to.

(Side note: Other object names: Guitar—Billiken. After the Buddha figure in Nick Joaquin’s Woman with Two Navels, Bike—Bucciel. I’ve no idea where I got this name. Suited the bike just right. Dad’s Bike—Utoy. Pacha’s named after Cuzco’s trusted friend in The Emperor’s New Groove, Tatau…got it from the plate number. I wasn’t too fond of him when I fist met him, hence the lack of personality of the name…but as he grew on me, the name took on a happy meaning).

I have no idea if talking to cars helps them ‘care’ more. Dad’s car seems to love him too. I’m not so sure though if he talks to him. I haven’t named that one yet because I don’t get to drive it often…But when I do say sorry for hitting a pothole I say ‘Sorry baby.’ Works just fine. It’s been a good one too, all these years.

Yes, they have conked out. There were times when the aircon went out in the middle of summer. Or the alternator just broke down. Or the power steering kit leaked in the middle of EDSA, yadayadayada…but today I still write about them, because they’ve all gotten me and my loved ones from point A to Z safely, happily, gratefully, and in 99.9% of the time, with me inside and not pushing from behind. Good...no, kind cars. Kind, trusty wheely friends.

Things to be grateful for today:
1. Long weekend coming up.
2. Good, trusty vehicles.
3. Productive meetings
4. The head cold that didn't develop into a full-blown downer
5. Great books from the second-hand bookstore at UP SC--found Richard Bach's One & Antoine de Exupery's Wind, Sand and Stars!!
6. Dates with myself.
7. Macmac
8. Love all around
9. Pillows on my bed
10. Kermit, rainbows, chocolate chip cookies.
11. Oh, and helpful people! (special thanks to manong vendor and ate metro aide on the corner of Malugay & Buendia!)

Monday, October 19, 2009

HBO on a monday night

Richard Gere lifted Paula up. Kissed her passionately. Held onto her til the credits rolled, and the image was forever paused. Definitely one of the best memories for a Monday night.

She was swept off her feet. It was an image of unabated adoration. Stuff movies are made of, daydreams are painted over with, and versions of which are created in varied, albeit contextual moments in real life.


Things to be grateful for this monday night:
1. Richard Gere. Definitely an officer & a gentleman!!
2. Monday night movie with mom & dad
3. Finally watching a kilig movie and realizing that I no longer have the "I wished I had that too" feeling.
4. Because I know I already have 'that'.
5. Regi

:)