It was the Monday evening of the 26th of July 2010. Members of the board of trustees gathered at the FogHouse Restaurant on Pier 39 for their first meal together. For most, it would be the first time meeting some of the members, having come from different and far away places, and having graduated from the old Alma Mater different years.
"The last time I saw you was high school... back in 1957," said one of the gentlemen to a board member.
"Aha... so you are Andring from Dardarat!" exclaimed another.
"And what happened to you?" kiddingly asked Nora of the president who was by this time sipping his snifter of 12-year old Courvoisier VSOP Napoleon brandy.
It was a wonderfully fun evening of story telling, catching up on family matters and of course Tagudin folklore. Andring, who was matching the president glass for glass, was also getting relaxed. Lizzie moved from chair to chair with ease in her effort to get to know most of the crowd even threatening to sit close to the president so she could eat some food from his untouched plate. Tina and her sister Pat were laughing hysterically at Andring's funny stories.
Attorney Romeo, The Prez, not to be outdone, also excitedly related his tales of his exploits while living and working in Chicago. His employment at CBS, his connections to the Daly Chicago Machine, his clout and influence in the Filipino Community, his time as an agent with the Department of Justice (DOJ), and his long and colorful past in the infamous Tagudin politics. He sprinkled his stories with the mention of his many credentials, the schools he attended, some whose titles were no more than a litany of obscure acronyms of skilled professional organizations formed around the turn of the century. All his stories got guffaws, guttural grunts and belly laughs. If I am not mistaken, I thought Tina even fell off her chair while laughing at the Prez' jokes, or as she told her joke - I don't remember now but we all had a good time laughing at that moment.
Willie brought along with her "The Papparazzi" herself, Jezreel Cruz, a woman of cameras and daguerreotypes who handily shot photos with five cameras all at the same time, holding one under her chin and another dangling around her neck, the rest in her hands. The flashes were blinding but aided by the libations freely flowing, nobody was feeling any pain - the eyeballs included. Strobed and flashed we all smiled every which way, trying to hide our tired, sleepy, drooping eyelids and our kabuki doll faces. Willie also commandeered the poor woman who waited on our table, asking her to bring well chilled bottles of white wine to go with the meal.
By now, Andring resurrected from his long, dormant sleep from the confines of his big, concrete citadel ruled by his wife obviously. Like a frog feeling the first drops of rain on his silken but parched skin, he stretched his limbs and began to gesticulate, his speech though slurred showing hints of life not unlike that of a seed germinating. Like a raised Lazarus, Andring emerged from the tomb, became unwittingly funny and at the same time fluidly animated as he tore off his bindings and went for broke.
The evening whisked by swiftly and unnoticed. The new moon was high above the bay, its silvery light shimmering on the lazy waves. The seagulls kept up with their incessant singing while the seals were content with their short grunts while nudging and cavorting. The restaurant was almost empty with the exception of our table and another table in the next room. Knowing San Francisco, these folks from the other table may have been terrorists or Jihadists plotting something. Diners have come and gone but our conversations were still going on strong. The lady who waited on our table brought two more bottles of chilled wine, a couple more snifters of rare brandy for the president and Andring and a basket of hot bread. Lizzie ate the bread and was looking for more butter.
Leonard joined us mid-dinner and though he came a little late he made up for lost time by relating some of the funniest stories of the evening. He claimed he got delayed by San Francisco traffic.
It was a relaxing evening. We broke bread. We chewed the fat. We got to meet the other members of the board. It was the nicest opening session for a business meeting.
"The last time I saw you was high school... back in 1957," said one of the gentlemen to a board member.
"Aha... so you are Andring from Dardarat!" exclaimed another.
"And what happened to you?" kiddingly asked Nora of the president who was by this time sipping his snifter of 12-year old Courvoisier VSOP Napoleon brandy.
It was a wonderfully fun evening of story telling, catching up on family matters and of course Tagudin folklore. Andring, who was matching the president glass for glass, was also getting relaxed. Lizzie moved from chair to chair with ease in her effort to get to know most of the crowd even threatening to sit close to the president so she could eat some food from his untouched plate. Tina and her sister Pat were laughing hysterically at Andring's funny stories.
Attorney Romeo, The Prez, not to be outdone, also excitedly related his tales of his exploits while living and working in Chicago. His employment at CBS, his connections to the Daly Chicago Machine, his clout and influence in the Filipino Community, his time as an agent with the Department of Justice (DOJ), and his long and colorful past in the infamous Tagudin politics. He sprinkled his stories with the mention of his many credentials, the schools he attended, some whose titles were no more than a litany of obscure acronyms of skilled professional organizations formed around the turn of the century. All his stories got guffaws, guttural grunts and belly laughs. If I am not mistaken, I thought Tina even fell off her chair while laughing at the Prez' jokes, or as she told her joke - I don't remember now but we all had a good time laughing at that moment.
Willie brought along with her "The Papparazzi" herself, Jezreel Cruz, a woman of cameras and daguerreotypes who handily shot photos with five cameras all at the same time, holding one under her chin and another dangling around her neck, the rest in her hands. The flashes were blinding but aided by the libations freely flowing, nobody was feeling any pain - the eyeballs included. Strobed and flashed we all smiled every which way, trying to hide our tired, sleepy, drooping eyelids and our kabuki doll faces. Willie also commandeered the poor woman who waited on our table, asking her to bring well chilled bottles of white wine to go with the meal.
By now, Andring resurrected from his long, dormant sleep from the confines of his big, concrete citadel ruled by his wife obviously. Like a frog feeling the first drops of rain on his silken but parched skin, he stretched his limbs and began to gesticulate, his speech though slurred showing hints of life not unlike that of a seed germinating. Like a raised Lazarus, Andring emerged from the tomb, became unwittingly funny and at the same time fluidly animated as he tore off his bindings and went for broke.
The evening whisked by swiftly and unnoticed. The new moon was high above the bay, its silvery light shimmering on the lazy waves. The seagulls kept up with their incessant singing while the seals were content with their short grunts while nudging and cavorting. The restaurant was almost empty with the exception of our table and another table in the next room. Knowing San Francisco, these folks from the other table may have been terrorists or Jihadists plotting something. Diners have come and gone but our conversations were still going on strong. The lady who waited on our table brought two more bottles of chilled wine, a couple more snifters of rare brandy for the president and Andring and a basket of hot bread. Lizzie ate the bread and was looking for more butter.
Leonard joined us mid-dinner and though he came a little late he made up for lost time by relating some of the funniest stories of the evening. He claimed he got delayed by San Francisco traffic.
It was a relaxing evening. We broke bread. We chewed the fat. We got to meet the other members of the board. It was the nicest opening session for a business meeting.
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