Dogbert’s Whip

My new job requires me to sit in front of four computer monitors (three 29-inch flat screens and a laptop) for twelve straight hours. Well, almost. Minus the amount of time that I spend taking a leak (or sometimes, a crap), eating frequent snacks in the dining area, loading data tapes, and folding paper plots, I would say that my butt has gotten a bit flatter now than I spend so much time sitting and staring.

Human nature dictates that one is bound to get bored and exhausted from working long hours. While endless munching of anything junk and gulping of anything carbonated could provide temporary reprieve, there is one thing that can handily make or break the dreary work mood. And that, my friends, is music.

Our group’s server, which is hidden from view behind my laptop, is a repository of MP3 folders. Stashed within the server’s drive K are 21,000 songs that cover all musical genres. We actually have everything from “13^th Floor Elevators” to “ZZ Top.” Siggy, my boss, mentioned that the MP3’s were compiled from years ago; that’s why the collection has now grown to its present number.

While music has certainly helped I and my workmates cope with the long work hours, we have been persistently annoyed by one problem whenever we play our MP3’s. Since the files were copied to the hard drive by different sources at various times, the music is not uniformly amplified. Thus, every song sounds differently even if the volume settings remained the same. This bug has led to frequent volume adjustments by people seated near the server, which obviously happens to be me for the most part.

Fortunately, Siggy came up with a program that would normalize all our MP3’s. However, it would take at least two days to run over 21,000 songs. Anxious over the prospect of dead silence for the next 48 hours, we rummaged every audio CD that we could find and played them one after the other in a portable player.

One of the CD’s in rotation is a compilation of tunes from the 70’s. It quickly became my favorite since it has funky songs like “Dirty White Boy” by Foreigner and a couple of Bob Marley standards. But what really grabbed my attention is a song that I’ve been familiar with since I was a kid, and has heard over and over in a many karaoke bars and soundtracks: Desperado by The Eagles. 

It’s strange that I developed a sudden liking for Desperado. I’ve heard the song a countless times already in the past but never gave it much attention. It’s probably because Desperado has always struck me as a rather sad and depressing song (why, obviously). Even Karen Carpenter, who succumbed to complications from her mental demons, had a version of this song.

One plausible reason why I suddenly like this song is that I’ve grown older now, and I could probably relate to the message of the lyrics. After listening to Desperado for about a dozen times in my last shift, I found myself talking back to the song at one point. I only made mental notes, of course, but I still found it rather weird. But then again, I can’t really blame myself. It’s my first time to be this far away from home and I’m not exactly having a smooth transition here.

Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses?
You been out ridin’ fences for so long now
Oh, you’re a hard one; I know that you got your reasons
These things that are pleasin’ you can hurt you somehow

I’m also probably in a phase they call the mid-20’s life crisis. People suffering from this phase may realize that hanging out for all-nighters will start losing its appeal, and somehow, overpriced coffee in paper cups and a good laugh with pals can pass off as a “gimmick.” They also begin panicking that their savings accounts only contain four digits, and actually think of otherwise alien words such as “future” and “security.”

Desperado, oh, you ain’t gettin’ no younger
Your pain and your hunger, they’re drivin’ you home
And freedom, oh freedom well, that’s just some people talkin’
Your prison is walking through this world all alone

The worst thing about the mid-20’s life crisis is that being single and alone is starting to become unbearably lonely. I guess it’s a normal thing since a considerable portion of your peers have started building their own families. It’s either that or they’re blissfully engaged. And it also doesn’t help if friends and kin keep pestering you with questions like: “So who are you with at the moment?” and “When do you intend to settle down?”

Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin’, but there’s a rainbow above you
You better let somebody love you, before it’s too late

Now that’s one great piece of advice if only life would just stop being too complicated.

Do you guys remember the Sprite™ commercial where an attractive girl was strolling around while sending SMS thru her cellular phone, unmindful of the possibility of tripping over (eventually dying from cerebral hemorrhage due to a fractured skull, and becoming fertilizer for cemetery lilies and Bermuda grass) from a few years back? Unless you’ve only recently heard about a gadget known as the television set, you’d probably agree that the same commercial has spawned the term “kitikitxt,” which is a word that describes a person who’s overly addicted to text messaging.

Text messaging has gone a long way indeed. Gone were the days when only a select breed of snooty Globe Telecom subscribers had access to this technology. Nowadays, Globe, together with rival companies Smart and the up-and-coming Sun Cellular, cater to the insatiable and voracious need of Filipinos to send text messages. Sending SMS used to be free in the late 90’s until telecom executives decided they wanted to get richer (Those fat bastards!) and government officials felt that taxing SMS would be an easy way to fund their *ahem!* various projects for national progress and development (Those cheeky crocs!).      

SMS has certainly revolutionized the lives of the average Pinoy. Before, college students from the provinces who went to Manila to study had to call their parents via long distance collect (assuming that the old folks have a landline back at home). Now, it only takes a few clicks of the cell phone keypad to reassure your parents that you go straight back to the dorm after class (right!), hear mass and pray regularly (hmmm…), shun barkada gimiks in favor of books and photocopied notes (baloney!), and has remained chaste and virginal despite the distance (nu-ni-nu-ni-nu). You can actually do all of these without having spend a fortune for actual voice calls.

With the Filipinos’ enthusiasm for mobile SMS communication, it’s no small wonder why the Philippines has become the unofficial “text capital of the world.” If you look around, everbody seems to own a cellular phone nowadays. While some are quick to complain about the rising cost of owning a phone, they’re also quick to fall in the rungs of sadness and depression when nobody sends them text messages. Take one of my friends, for example, who breathes out: “How sad… buong araw na wala pa rin nag-text sa akin… walang friend na nagmamahal sa akin…” Now since when did getting text messages get equated with the value of love, or friendship, for that matter? 

The truth is, SMS is here to stay since it’s an efficient and relatively cheap way to stay connected with family and friends. And since cellular phone companies make it cost prohibitive to make voice calls anyway, we can’t really blame people for relying too much on text messaging. And as an added bonus, SMS can actually empower people. Before a blind date even transpires, an SMS message swap happens between two potential lovebirds. Nowadays, you can win fabulous prizes and lots of moolah just by sending text messages to some contest. And how else did Sandara Park manage to win second place in a reality talent contest despite sucking in almost everything except for looking irresistibly cute whenever she belts out novelty tunes? It’s SMS, people!

As of this writing, I’m on board a floating ship some 80 miles off the US coast in the Gulf of Mexico. For the past three weeks, my phone has been relegated to serving as my alarm clock since the chances of attaining network coverage in this part of the world is probably similar to getting struck by lightning on a clear summer day. I sorely miss receiving text messages now, and I’ve gotten a couple of e-mail inquiries by friends demanding an explanation why I never text back and why the heck my phone is “unattended or out of coverage area.”

Before leaving the Philippines, I was cheerily informed by a Globe Telecom agent that my phone is on “auto roaming,” meaning I’ll be able to use my cell phone abroad. “Pero nasa barko ako,” I explained, “baka di ko rin magagamit ang phone ko?” “Try nyo na din po,” the agent answered back with a plastered smile, “baka malakas ang signal ng mga ka-tie up namin sa Louisiana.” The “kitikitxt” side of me cheered "Hurrah!" I mean, wouldn’t it be cool to keep receiving your txtm8’s daily greetings, jokes, and cute icons in the shape of teddy bears and hearts even if you’re about a couple of time zones away?

As I happily left the Globe Telecom Center, I saw an image of Sharon Cuneta in a poster with the latest model cell phone pressed against one of the ears of her enormous moon face. Printed near her dreamy gaze is a definitive word, cast in bold face, that attempts to convey that distance between people, may it be inter-island or inter-continental, can be easily bridged through state-of-the-art mobile phone technology (or in the poster’s case, a lousy pink ribbon), and soothe the sadness and longing from extended periods of isolation: Posible.

Yeah, right. Posible my a$$!