Hail Mary, Abmel Speeds

My grandpa. He was a slight and quiet man who couldn't keep still. He HAD to work. I visited him and Lola when arthritis and age had gotten the better of him. He sat in his rocker on the front porch, squashing ants with the stub of his cane just to keep busy. Fast forward several years, I was back at The Old House, and Lolo was no longer in his rocking chair.

I remember the night like it was just yesterday. I was at my other grandparents' house the night before their village fiesta. Desperas is what they call it. It was pouring down rain. We had no phones back then, so I received word by a messenger. "Your Lolo has passed away..."

Fast forward again, more than 10 years later... Tita Virgi called me up. "Let's have a rosary for your Lolo's death anniversary," she said. So that's where I was last night. At Tita Virgi's house, for dinner and a rosary.

The Sorrowful Mysteries.

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit...

I believe in God...

Our Father...

Hail Mary...

The Agony In the Garden of Gethsemane, The Scourging at the Pillar, The Crowning With Thorns, The Carrying of the Cross, The Crucifiction...

Oh My Jesus...

Hail Holy Queen...

O God, His Only Begotten Son...

For all the souls in purgatory...

[Ugh, I'm having Lost withdrawal syndrome...]

Hail Mary...

Oh my, is that Cousin Abmel? I left Tita Virgi's house before him!

That boy's got a lead foot!

Micchel, Pronounced Like the Regular "Michelle"

There was a time when I used to visit the Philippines quite often. This time, trips are far and few between. It's the dog-gone economy! Ugh, and don't get me started with that!

On this last trip I met my niece, Micchel. (Pronounced the regular "michelle". Pinoys are notorious for fancifying names. At one time, they called me NeTHy. For a while there I thought my cousins all had lithpth - er, lisps - and that I was a genetic anomaly. But alas, I'm just plain. It's them with the fancy spelled names that are special.

Micchel. The last time I saw her, she was barely out of highschool. She was this dainty little thing who looked like a medium gust of wind could blow her over. Well, she's still dainty now, but it will take a storm to blow her over. She's a wife and mom now. There's something about motherhood that makes a woman stronger than a man.

Micchel, pronounced the regular "michelle".

With Gavin. He is a spitting image of his mom. Yes, I've known Micchel since she was a wee wittle baby.

Now with her husband, Gerard. He's cute. As in handome, cute.

Oh, how they adore Gavin.

Already teaching Gavin how to drive. (You're asking for trouble, Gerard. Do you know what I put my parents through when I could drive on my own? Suffice it to say that they were not bored.)

Gerard is a sales rep for the Royale Business Club. He sells health and fitness supplements like this one. And I thought the U.S. was the only place where people are obsessed about their figure. I bought a bottle. But I can't tell you if it worked on me because I forgot to take it with me when I left. Now I remain flabby.

Here he is, doing his job. How could Tia Fel resist his charm and good looks? She took a dozen boxes of several Royale products for Truk Trading Philippines, Inc.

Now all of Truk will be fair complected, skinny, and jittering with caffeine.

Micchel, prounounced like the regular "michelle".

Tulalip Elders Lunch

Tita Virgi invited me to a luncheon hosted by the Native American Tulalip Elders, held at the tribal casino. Walking into the grand reception hall reminded me of a trip I took to Las Vegas with my college girlfriend, Jonnie.

We were in the MGM Grand playing the penny slots - we couldn't afford anything more. I was 19 years old, and she was 20. We knew there was an age limit to be in the casino, so we darted from machine to machine, thinking this would avoid getting spotted by security. If you've ever seen the show Las Vegas (NBC), you'd know that casino security is un-foolable. (Is that a word, Ms. Webster?) Sure enough, we both got grabbed by the elbows by two towering men in uniform.

"How old are you?" asked the first man.

"Um, I'm a junior in college?" I answered.

"You," prodded the second man to Jonnie.

"I'll be 21 in a couple of weeks," she said undaunted.

Without saying anything more, they dragged us out by the elbows - and it hurt! "Come back when you're 21, BOTH of you!"

So, Jonnie, I dedicate this post to you. Not only because we almost went to jail in Las Vegas, but because you were my first Native American friend who took me to my first pow wow and first rodeo (Omak Stampede).

I was surrounded by Native Americans as soon as I stepped into the ballroom. Everyone wore a bright citrous colored ribbon on their chests, which I thought was the meal ticket. No ribbon, no food. I felt like I was intruding. Tita Virgi was nowhere in sight. I was hungry. Starving. There was five long tables of food. My tummy grumbled in protest.

So in my desperation to appease my rebellious stomach - did I say that I was hungry? - I signed a registration list, pinned the ribbon to my chest, and got into the nearest food line to me.

By the way, Jonnie, I wrote your name and your tribe. So if they call you to ask how the event went, tell them that they should prepare more salmon next time. Yes, they ran out of salmon before I could get to it.

Fed, watered, coffeed, I resumed my search for Tita Virgi.

There was a tool maker there. He's not Native American himself, but his wife is. And he sells his tools to Native American totem pole artists.

All the while, a funny man on the stage kept calling names out of a basket, followed by peals of hurrahs and woo-hoo's.

One wall was lined with prizes being given away by raffle.

The Tulalip tribe is so generous. Just look at that basket that's going to some Elder in the crowd.

There were easily over 1,000 people in attendance. And a good 75% of them received a prize just for being there!

Oh yes, Tita Virgi. She invited me. Now where is she?

Someone won this crockpot!

Looks like this fellow is looking for someone too. You think he'll let me borrow his scope?

Uh-oh, security. [Shiver!]

There she is! I found her only because the MC called her name to receive a prize.

"I'm here, I'm here!"

Tita Virgi's stash: a canvas shopping bag, a travel duffle, and a blanket. Wow, the Tulalip tribe is very generous indeed.

Back to the security guy. How many underaged one-armed bandits has he dragged out of the casino during his career?

Suddenly Tita Virgi's table squealed with delight. Another one of her friends was called for a prize.

Look at her stash!

Tita Virgi capturing her own memories.

Native Americans call them "Elders". Anyone else call them Senior Citizens.

Tita Virgi and her Senior Citizen Posse.

And what are they called before they turn 60?

After the food was cleared away, and all the prizes give away, folks started milling out of the ballroom.

Punks. That's what they're called before they turn 18.

Elders.

Everyone left with their loot.

Happy cooking!

And me, I went home with a happy tummy.

Thanks, Tulalip Tribe, for a yummy lunch.

Surprise! Goodbye.

I don't remember ever having been thrown a surprise party. Yesterday I helped throw a surprise party for Palomino's birthday. And I can see now, why perhaps no one has bothered to do one for me. It's stressful!

On the menu for the party: LASAGNA.

The cooks: Alfonsina and Colleen. They were also the coordinators.

They cooked all day Friday, while yours truly sat back and observed.

Well, three would have been a crown over the hot stove!

The party was for Saturday. The coordinators planned to meet at 3pm to plate the food, and decorate. But then, 5-Star Scotty and Palomino showed up at 2:50pm, and stuck around...

I pretended to do something productive while I waited, and waited, and waited... No Palomino, I'm not taking a photo of you, I'm taking a photo of the pitcher [for no reason really, I just need to vent this pent up nervousness and anxiety].

I quickly texted Alfonsina, Colleen, and Henriette (who was out buying the decorations at the last minute): "Palomino is here. DO NOT COME UNTIL I CALL YOU!"

Palomino got bored, and started looking through the cupboards aimlessly. And I prayed "Do not open the fridge, do not open the fridge, dear Lord please do not let him open the fridge." Because the cake is in there.

Finally, at 3:30pm, 5-Star Scotty and Palomino left, after leaving me the lyrics to a Bob Dylan song.

For a tall mocha, tell me the title of the song of the lyrics.

Guests started arriving just as Colleen and Henriette finished up the decorations.

And right at 6:15pm, 20 people greeted Palomino with a surprise at the door.

And the party commenced.

Here's a tip on how to be a gracious guest: It's time for Minnesotan goodbyes when:

1. The host(ess) starts washing the dishes.

2. The cowboy puts on his boots.

3. 5-Star Scotty wears his sunglasses at 11:57pm.

What, you don't know what a Minnesotan Goodbye is? For example:

The Minnesotan Guest (TMG): Well, I should get going now. I have still have to feed the birds tonight.

The Host: Thanks for coming. Say hi to your birds for me.

TMG: Yeah, Polly had the run of the house today. She got into Suzanne's prize fern plant, and tore it to bits.

The Host: Oh no, not the prize fern! What did Suzanne say?

TMG: Well, she hadn't come home yet when I left.

The Host: What are you gonna do?

TMG: I guess I'm going to have to make it up to her... Alright then, g'night...

The Host: Thanks for coming... Hey, you can take her to the ball game.

TMG: Yeah, I hear the Mariners are two for two.

[The Mariners are Seattle's baseball team.]

The Host: It'll be great!

TMG: Alright then, g'night!

The Host: Thanks for comin'. D'you get enough to eat?

TMG: Oh yeah. That lasagna was delicious!

The Host: You like it? Alfonsina made it! You wanna take some home?

TMG: That'd be great!

[Another 10 minutes go by while TMG get's a plate of lasagna wrapped to go.]

TMG: Alright then, g'night! Thanks for the food.

The Host: Thanks for comin'. Hey, do you want the recipe? I'm sure Suzanne would like to make it at home.

And on, and on, and on, for another hour, until the FINAL goodbye is said once and for all.

Goodbye!