One of the interesting aspects of living in a predominately Catholic country is the celebration of holidays that mean nothing to me. Like yesterday’s Palm Sunday. Coming up, Maundy Thursday. I remember that one because I arrived in Cebu on my first visit to the Philippines and noted that almost everything was closed. I’m like, “what’s going on?” only to learn that it’s a special part of Holy Week here. At least I didn’t get crucified for my ignorance.
Here’s how I raised my palms on Sunday:
Here’s this week’s snippet from section four of our weekly route:
Later in the day, I embarked on my feeding mission at Hideaway Bar.
My normal routine is to meet Swan on the floating bar after the feeding. This week, however, we opted to go straight to John’s place for dinner, as the weather wasn’t ideal for the floater experience.
The waitress advised that there was a special holiday entree being offered during the holiday period. I’m not always up to trying something new, but I was yesterday.
After dinner, I suggested we visit Red Bar, and Swan said that’s what she was thinking too. Damn, talk about being on the same page! We enjoyed sitting in the outside section and also treated our favorites to lady drinks. Then we did our nightcap at Green Room before calling it a night and heading for home.
The journey through the LTG archives is increasingly disappointing without the accompanying photos. The captions tease me, but I need to see to remember fully. Damn. Anyway, I was back home in Virginia for Christmas in 2006. That gave me the opportunity to enjoy the Sunday edition of the Washington Post. And to my surprise, there was a Korea-based Christmas story that Gene Weingarten had written at the request of an English teacher in Korea. That was a hoot to read, and I included it in a blog post entitled: The Seoul of Christmas. Surprisingly, the link to Weingarten’s story still works.
Speaking of Virginia, fellow blogger and frequent LTG commenter Kevin Kim is now returning to Korea after visiting his former home state. Don’t ask me why, but when I saw this today, I pictured Kevin having a similar conversation with his seatmate on the long flight home:
From Facebook memories:
Today’s YouTube video talks about things that are unique to the Philippines. It’s worth the watch for the scenery alone.
Humor time:
And so it goes, and so it went. Hash Monday has arrived once more. Vienna Sausage is the hare, and I’m already plotting my shortcuts. I will walk to the start on Rizal Extension, so that will give me some added distance. I’ll let you know how it works out tomorrow.
Palms Up
(Verse 1)
Walking in Barretto craving a John’s burrito,
Stackin’ chips like a king, yeah, I’m the Don Carleto.
Hit the block, flexin’ hard, watch these bitches reload,
Pullin’ up, all my niggas ready, bust it in beast mode.
Palms up like I’m claimin’ all this dope in my zone,
Cut a hater off quick, no time for the clone,
Ballin’ like it’s March Madness, got the game on lock,
Chicago nights, we ignite, hear the city rock.
(Chorus)
Palms up, bitches know we run the turf,
Thuggin’ with my crew, yeah, we know our worth.
Flexin’ on the haters, never missin’ a beat,
Palms up, we gon’ rise, can’t accept defeat.
(Verse 2)
Rollin’ through the city, yeah, I’m ridin’ in the whip,
Got my squad by my side, never takin’ a dip.
Shout out to my brothers, homies hold me down tight,
In the Chi, we gon’ shine, let the whole world ignite.
Bitches be actin’ shady, call ’em out, we expose,
Keep my palms up high, got that warrior pose.
Niggas know the vibe, we ain’t playin’ for crumbs,
Ballin’ hard every day, man, I’m slangin’ these drums.
(Chorus)
Palms up, bitches know we run the turf,
Thuggin’ with my crew, yeah, we know our worth.
Flexin’ on the haters, never missin’ a beat,
Palms up, we gon’ rise, can’t accept defeat.
(Bridge)
Ain’t no stoppin’ this grind, it’s a murder scene,
Palms up for the hustle, know we stayin’ clean.
Built from the struggle, we gon’ always prevail,
In the heart of the city, hear the sirens wail.
(Outro)
So palms up, motherfuckas, we ain’t playin’ no games,
In the Chi, we the real, remember all our names.
Thuggin’ and ballin’, like we runnin’ the place,
With our palms up high, we gon’ dominate space.
Yeah, I belatedly noticed my departure day was Palm Sunday—the Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem. And a week later—nailed to the Holy Rood.
Tuna steak looks good. Probably not very filling, though.
Seven years ago, I was enjoying the signage during one of my hikes in Pyeongtaek.
The sign says, “For use (together) by pedestrians, bikes, and farm equipment.”
I pictured Kevin having a similar conversation with his seatmate on the long flight home:
I normally avoid small talk on planes.
Good luck with your shortcut.
Well, the English version of the sign isn’t nearly as clear!
“I normally avoid small talk on planes”
See what you are potentially missing?
Nicely done, HipHop! Send me a link to the music video!
I should have noted that “turn-off” (hyphenated) is the noun form, but “turn off” (no hyphen) is the phrasal verb.
Also: according to tradition, Jesus’ crucifixion was on Good Friday, just five days after Palm Sunday. My bad.
Buggin’ n’ thuggin’
Like a herd a dam foos
Hittin’ skankiest pussy
Dat no one else wanta use
Gettin’ capped or locked up
For some ignorant shit
Didn’t listen to mama
She said “Foo, you betta quit”
Now ya pushin’ up daisies
Or just a slave to the clock
Done foo’d yaself
‘Cause yo head like a rock
Bodies drop every day
All over Chi-town
Just the same ol’ shitty circus
Nothin’ change but the clowns
Thanks, Cool. The lyrics are likely more enjoyable than music, but send me a link and I’ll give it a listen.