Pop Goes the World

“May the light of this flickering candle
Illuminate the night the way your spirit
Illuminates my soul” - Barbara Streisand, “Papa, Can you hear Me?”

To E, first-time father of Elijah and Ezekiel, this day exalts you. Stop fretting about being tentative, fatherhood is an instinctive, reflexive vocation. Those self-help books with their hard-and-fast rules can go rot, every child is unique and an individual.

It's natural you intend to illuminate your children's trail, be the beacon of light ala-Reagan. This early, you’re already thinking what books and movies they should be exposed to, don't you want them to be babies forever, freeze them in their innocent stage?

I may not be a great help in this department but let me toss a suggestion or two. For movies, "The Royal Tenenbaums," those twins in their ubiquitous Adidas tracksuit were simply adorable. "Simon Birch" for the universal message of love, "Little Rascals" for Alfa-alfa's romanticism, "Goodbye, Lenin," a showcase of the great lengths a child is willing to go for a parent. Once they are old enough, they should be schooled in Iranian cinema, there's nothing like it. Kiarostami is a great teacher, I have written odes about him in the past so I won't start now. Of course, you would argue for Italian neo-realism or the French new wave or the glorious era of Pinoy cinema, fine with me.

We didn't have any of these while growing up and we didn't turn out that bad, did we? I had Charlie Chaplin, the 3 Stooges, those old LVN and Sampaguita-produced movies, Jackie Chan and Nino Muhlach starrers, and a little of Sesame Street with Big Bird and company.

For books, how about Joseph Conrad's "Heart of Darkness"? All those survivor-tales of Auschwitz for a balance of good and evil and Hemingway. Definitely, Hemingway. Your children are boys, they should read macho stuff before they are introduced to the Arundhati Roys of this world. I do remember your beautifully-crafted review of "The God of Small Things."

Surprised? That's me, I don't remember major headlines but I remember the coldness of the beer in a particular pub, a shirt one wore to a gig, a dinner you prepared when you were still staying in Ocampo, near Singalong, all these small things.

It is in this spirit that I salute you, so enamored of fatherhood. It's gorgeous.