For My Ding

EDUARDO LL. TORIO

February 5, 1951- March 27, 2022

There may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning. - Psalm 30:5

God had mercy and took away my brother Eddie's misery from illness on a Sunday morning.

I can't believe he's now walking upright.

Leaping for joy.

Third Brother hosts a Philippine visit

My brother got his gift of final healing.

For that, I am grateful.

Flowers For Ding: Easter lilies that bloom every spring in our Columbus garden

I had looked back for signs that across the seas, my brother somehow let me know of his moving on.

And I remembered.

At around 8 pm, First Granddaughter and I were doing our usual YouTube after-dinner perusing. She suddenly stopped and said, Grandma, do you hear that? Someone’s throwing up. We both looked out the window but saw nothing.

In my later conversation with the sibs, they had told me that Ding threw up just immediately before he expired. It was at 8 pm Hawaii time.

Hubby and I had our usual morning walk today and were regaled by a flock of white tern birds on a banyan tree branch.

Then a fat one flew down on the grass. So elegant and delicate, with immaculate all-white plumage.

I knew it.

Ding came to tell me that he is free.

He is flying through the air and living in the sunlight.

My brother lives on.

STOP | END

My Life As A Professional

STOP: logical end of a Fortran/Basic computer progam

END: last line in a main computer program 

Retirement: when you stop living at work and start working at living. - Anonymous

After 27 years, the end of my professional life was near.

I'd begun to feel the stress of a looming deadline, gotten tired of watching the same office scenes day after day, and became simply grumpy in the mornings since I had to switch out of PJs and slip into a proper dress.

Work fascinated me. I could sit and look at it for hours.

Now older and wiser, I'd discovered that there were six things that I really loved about my job. Pay day, lunch time, quitting time, vacation time, holidays, and of course...

Retirement. 

When I finally retired, I didn't want pomp and circumstance, just a quiet no-party day of unscheduled drop-ins from co-workers who wanted to say goodbye. But I did prepare a retirement speech just in case the event became a gathering.

This was what I wrote.

********************************

RETIREMENT SPEECH, March 2010

For nearly as long as I've worked here, I've hoped that I might one day leave for good. As each semester rolled by, I kept asking myself the question: If life is a bowl of cherries, what am I doing in the pit of the HTC?

Thus, early this year, I did a quick math of all the license plate numbers on the northwest parking lot of campus, divided the total by GCC's spring semester FTSE, then multiplied that by the total number of open lab hours in the HTCs - and determined with the result that I got that retiring early seemed about as right as it could be.

I will admit that I had thought about the downside to retiring. 

For one thing, retiring means I can no longer call in sick so I can shop at the mall. The second most important thing is that I will have to drink coffee on my own time. Thirdly, I will have to come to terms that doing nothing will be very hard to do because... I will never know when I'm finished.

Now that this dream to escape... er... to be released from my working career is finally going to be a reality, I cannot help but be melancholic about the things that I will miss.

I will miss sprinting to get to my office door to log in to the Employee Schedule Board lest it emblazon my name with the shameful scarlet message, Not checked in.

I am going to miss dealing with Error messages and hearing the squeals from unplugged audio cords on the iMacs.

I will miss the High Tech clients who think that with ESP, we can guess what course they are registered in and who their instructor might be; and more so, those who think that we have PHDs in biotechnology and calculus and therefore are able to assist them in their computer course assignments.

I will miss meetings of all kinds - which, by the way, I am more convinced than ever, are the true culprits to the non-achievement of our full potential as an organization.

I don't expect that you will want to continue communicating with me, but if you do, to access LIVE CHAT WITH DORIS I will need to issue you a username. I regret that it cannot be shorter than 15 characters - with 5 uppercase letters, 5 lowercase letters, and 5 numeric characters. 

To authenticate initial usage, you will need to answer 3 security questions, after which you will receive a temporary password that you can then change using the secure account wizard website that will be set up for that purpose. After you enter your message in the textbox and click on Start Chat, a popup window will appear indicating your position in the queue and an estimated time frame for an answer. And not to forget, it will cost you ten cents per ink side to a get a printed copy of my response.

I'd like to thank you for the Soleri bell and lovely card. Every time I look at them I will be reminded of how all my hard work got me this one reward.

In closing, I'd like to pass on my condolences to my friends whom I'm leaving behind.

To others, may I wish you a happy, if ever so slightly less prosperous semester.

My prayer is that I may be granted the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway, the good fortune to run into the ones I do, and the eyesight to see the difference.

Thank you. 

STOP | END

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P.S. I was asked to write a history of micro-computing at the college. I complied and entitled it, Not Everything You Want To Know About Micro-Computing at GCC... But It Is A Start: A Spotty History 1983-2010.

It's a good read. Funny. Not computerese. I should reproduce it as a blog at a later time.

Moi: Then And Now

So here I am again, scrounging through my archived files. This time, it's for a flashback look at me.  

First of, from a baby album which has surprisingly survived through the years. Ragged. With pictures and writing all faded. 

Mum recorded my first words on there, thus:

Da-da, Ma-ma, tum here (come here), tus (shoes), mik (milk)

At one year old, pic entered in a Healthy Baby contest. I didn't win. Quezon City: 1945

Manila: 1946

She noted my first sentence spoken at one year, seven months: Mummie, buy me a'pop.

It looks like I was pretty behaved at a young age. 

She wrote: My little Adoracion is so faithful in her duty of keeping her toys in order after playing with them. She never destroys any of her playthings, unlike any child of her age. I have often felt sorry if any of her toys are broken or gone due to her playmates' carelessness.

At the young age of two, Doris likes very much to use dresses with flowers. She chooses them after every bath - 'Mummie, this one with pawers.'

Then here's this description of me from 19 years ago by First Daughter.

Wha?!! That's why I've chosen to be a teetotaler.

Now this, with a few more pounds, thanks to a four-day birthday eating bash. Why not? Only once in a lifetime does one turn 77 years young.

DAY ONE: March 20

Dim sum lunch at Legend Seafood Restaurant

An afternoon toast to me at the backyard beach

 

Pre-birthday dinner with Eldest Daughter and family at Elks Lodge

A random wave splashed up the deck toward our dinner table and onto the front of my blouse at Elks. I hadn't thought much about its significance until Younger Daughter said, Birthday blessings! 

My Mum would have said the same thing.

DAY TWO: March 21

An oceanfront breakfast at the Barefoot Beach Cafe

Haupia malasada and azuki bean shaved ice morning snack

Happy Hour at Roy's Eating House 

The day had come to an end.

It was one of my perfect days. 

All Waikiki photos: V.E.V. March 2022

DAY THREE: March 22

Lunch at Duke's with visiting elementary/high school classmate and his wife

The shared hula pie was delish! 

DAY FOUR: March 25 

My best of all days - at Seafood City, a mecca for Filipino foodies, where we enjoyed a Pampano fish and sauteed bittermelon lunch and a colossal dessert of ube halo-halo. Life can't get better than this.

Mwah! I've really come a long way. 

May I have many more birthdays to come!

Pit Boss

My Life As A Professional

The closest to perfection a person ever comes is when he or she fills out a curriculum vitae.

This I came to realize in the early 80's when in midstream, I decided to apply for a computer tech job. Computers had come to the forefront. I wanted to be there.

Anyway, back to my original thought.

Curriculum vitae.

Super fancy term, right? You might know or have heard of it if you are French, took French, visited France as an exchange student, or simply like Camembert cheese on your baguette.

The term is Latin for course of life, often shortened to CV. It is a short written summary of a person's career, qualifications, and education. 

Going over my CV when I applied for a Computer Lab position at a community college's High Tech Center made me feel fabulous.

I had world lit degrees. I was a university instructor in a prestigious state university, was field interviewer for a Chicago university research laboratory, and an administrative assistant for a Cook County Hospital physician.

I was a published writer.

Curriculum Vitae. Original document: 1977

Publications. Original CV attachment: 1977

Plus I had just completed a data processing degree with high honors, and was conversant in computer languages, among other things.

I got the job.

At first, it seemed different.

But it was basically the same as my previous ones - an environment among faculty and students and administrators but more high-tech. 

Our innovative open-entry/open-exit system whose time had come garnered several full, center-page spread coverage in the college newspaper.

And I was in the midst of it.

 

The pit boss, presiding over the building's so-called sunken pit area that was two-thirds the size of a football field. 

I innovated and programmed a computerized login in BASIC.

Alongside college professors and counselors, I was a regular presenter on career day at various Arizona high schools. 

For tours that I gave to visitors from all over the world, I used my dramatic flair and showed off my piddling knowledge of Spanish and German when called for. 

I also wrote for our online newsletter High-Tech, High-Touch and faced the almost-daily challenges of circumventing computer glitches and bugs.

For sure, there were fun moments, too.

(Below left): One of the munchkins (in striped jumper) in The Yellow Disk Road-themed display at the center on Homecoming Week

(Left): Party time with the Director-birthday celebrant 

A butterfly on Halloween waiting with a student Instructional Associate to give out sweets to the children from the college's Children's Center  

 

 

 I was awarded Employee of the Year and was a featured   employee for the college's Gaucho Gazette. 

  They were years full of promise and possibility.

  Adventures and a new beginning.

  A different perspective.

  An exciting new chapter.

(To be continued)

  

 

Editor Extraordinaire

My Life As A Professional

University teaching seemed like forever ago.

A decade after, halfway around the world, with a Master's Degree...

Master in English and Comparative Literature. Philippinensian Directory of Graduates: March 1971

Daytona Beach, Florida: 1976

... and a couple of sweethawts

... I started a new adventure - working part time as editor-in-chief of The Philippine Chronicle, a fortnightly folio in Chicago.

I knew that I was super-educated on parsing how events were built up to a climactic peak and that I could whip up learned criticisms of world literary masterpieces.

But writing original pieces... that others could critique and analyze!!? I didn't have any academic training on that, save for the adolescent pieces of writing and editing that I did in high school and church camp.

I was back to being a blank slate.

But here was the thing.

I loved journalism. I loved piecing words together to form a coherent thought. 

True, at that time, the technology was old.

(Aside: Those of you born after Publisher will have no idea what I'll be talking about, so I'll explain as I go.) 

I felt like the linotype proofs that I had to edit might have come with the Mayflower. And the Nina and the Pinta and the Santa Maria. 

Linotype is a composing machine that produced lines of words as single strips of metal. It is now rarely used.

I loved the ink smell of the old-fashioned printing press. I loved poring over galley proofs.

A galley proof is a version of a printed piece prepared for the purpose of editing and commentary.

I had to literally cut and paste columns to create page proofs that would then go to final print.

But in all this, I had a heart and a vision and a love of writing.

I loved thinking about what I was going to do for the feature article and how I was going to say it. And then I wondered if readers would actually read it and think like I did, that it was brilliant.

I wrote about my dog Nupling, Pares Puso, Halo-Halo, Christmases Past, etc. (the first two you may remember reprinted in previous blogs).

I wrote from the heart.

I simply wrote me.

(To be continued)

Rockstar Instructor

My Life As A Professional 

I think that you, my loyal readers, already know enough about me.

I’m the type of person that will burst out laughing in dead silence over something that happened the previous day.

I'm over-the-top.

I have no directional knowledge.

But way back, Second Daughter suggested that I write more about me, particularly my work. Not house work. Work work. 

What? Another opportunity to be the center of attention? 

Why not? So here's another About Me series, with special emphasis on work. 

****************************************************************

I felt like I'd just burned all my note cards on Blake for my final thesis in English 199 - the burning of notes being an end-of-the-semester ritual for all the comparative literature classes I've completed.

And now, three months later, it was June. What did it mean in the Philippines? 

Tropical wet climate, oftentimes thunderstorms and flooding. It also signified...

Back.To.School.

Yay!

You may think, Nerd, but yes, it was one of my favorite seasons of the year. As a kid, I loved the smell of paste and fresh school supplies, new outfits, and the chance to crack open a new textbook.

And now, more so.

Outfitted in a blue polka-dotted shift dress and a cream shoulder bag, I was ready.

With Shaw's Freshman English tucked in my arms, I strutted in my Mum's Camara Cuban-heeled shoes toward the Arts and Sciences building.

If you've been paying attention, you may wonder, Why a freshman text? Haven't I just mentioned final thesis at the beginning?

Well, let's take a look back before we jump forward.

Philippinensian Directory of Graduates.
University of the Philippines: March 1965 

Just turned twenty, I graduated cum laude with an English and Comparative Literature undergrad degree in March.

I thought, that (and my impressive paper on Blake) were the winning points for my being recruited by the English Department Chair to be part of the faculty even prior to graduation day.

Yes, I was going back as university instructor. Today was the first day of my life as a professional.

UP Faculty Conference.
Baguio: 1965

I had thought up titles for this post and so many came to mind. Here were my top three:

You’ve Come A Long Way

I Still Can’t Believe It

I'm Definitely Excited 

And, umm... (dramatically channeling Maria in The Sound Of Music): 

What Will This Day Be Like? 

Yep. Seriously.

I had no idea where the road ahead would take me. It was all too new, too replete with possibility.

My heart should be wildly rejoicing. Oh, what's the matter with me? 

But with each step up the fourth floor to my first class, I became more certain that everything would turn out fine. My heart began to sing.

I have confidence the world can all be mine

They'll have to agree, I have confidence in me.

That pep talk to myself paid off.

So proud to say that I was a lot like a rock star during my three years of university teaching.

Every day, I put on my cape sans rhinestones (a reference to Elvis, in case you're too young or unfamiliar) and taught from the heart, not from the book, sometimes using readings of my own choice (mimeographed pages that I sold for.. ahem... profit).

I'd always thought that when students weren't having fun or getting the experience, they were seldom learning effectively. Thus, rather than simply read the words of Ben Jonson's Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes off a page, I brought my guitar and had the class sing it (you may know it, to the tune of To Celia).

In exploring the science fiction genre, I brought a couple of students to the movie house to see Fantastic Voyage. Back then, this film adventure was a big deal. We gasped as a surgical task force was reduced to microbe size to perform a delicate operation inside the brain of a dying scientist.

I had my students attend poetry reading sessions that were conducted by local university poets. For the unit on theater and drama, I invited a student actor who talked about sets, makeup, emoting, etc.

Every day, I told myself, You got this, Teach. 

Who's going to be awesome?

Me.

(To be continued)