Tuesday, August 30, 2022

Burned Out - A Growing Dilemma of Very Busy People

   Burned Out -
A Growing Dilemma of Very Busy People

Burned out can lead to depression, today's biggest social dilemma. especially to very busy people.  Do you often feel dead tired, exhausted in your present work, and about to deflate like a balloon? Or are you about to erupt like a volcano?

Dr Abe V Rotor

The road is fine all right and you are running fast because you want to reach your destination – or your goal. Then all of a sudden a signboard appears. Dead End.

Shocking. You are in your prime. You have a happy family, good breeding, good company, and bright future. Good life – oh, the malls, Internet, travel, medals, rubbing elbows with personalities, greetings everywhere you go.
Are you about to erupt like a volcano? Painting in acrylic AVR 2016
What happened? Were you moving too fast in life because you want more? More money, honor, acquaintances, possessions, or just keeping up ahead? Or you are trying to escape? Escape from criticism, inadequacies? For not being able to cope up with the Joneses? Escape from tradition, because everything today must be modern? Escape from rural life because in the urban lies the golden city?

POM (Peace of Mind) Square

Of course you do not think of these while you are running. Then you start to walk, exhausted, and you look around. You are back to your senses. You realized you have not been a “square”. Your sense of dimension is lost and you did not care what shape you are in. Because you lost the integrated balance of the four pillars of a happy, fulfilled life.
  • Intellectual/mental
  • Spiritual
  • Physical
  • Psychological/Emotional
1. Physical – It's your health, body physiology, the machine and prime mover that keeps you going biologically. When was the last time you visited your doctor? Is your food balance? Maybe you are not getting enough exercise. Driving for hours does not constitute an exercise. Are you having difficulty to sleep, even only to rest? Imagine a machine breaking down because of strain.

2. Intellectual or mental – Your thoughts are assigned to two parts – the left for reasoning and the right for creativity. Either you have overtaxed the whole of your brain, or you failed to balance the two hemispheres. That's why it is important to attend to hobbies like painting and music (right brain) to balance the left which you use more often in office and home. As the body is subject to fatigue, so with the brain. A fatigued brain may lead to psychiatric condition that can not be relieved as easy as that of the body. Quite often extreme conditions are irreversible.

3. Psychological or emotional – Our psyche absorbs the impact of stress coming from the body and the mind – and from our spiritual being. Like a funnel the residues are accumulated here. Imagine a man staring at an artificial waterfall at a New York park. How many promising people are ruined by emotional problems? Jungian psychology explains that as we continue to repress our thoughts, our feelings, particularly those that are negative, the more we bury them deeper, storing them in our sub-conscious.

It means two things. First, we thought we have eliminated them. No, they come out in our dreams, they seep out into the unconscious in trickles that spoil many happy thoughts. Second, as we keep filling up the unconscious with more repressed thoughts, there comes a time that the tank so to speak, is likely to burst. There on a couch the potential victim, with the help of a psychiatrist, releases the pressure by withdrawing from the unconscious into the conscious chamber of the brain and flows out to his relief. Such rehabilitation requires rest and expurgation of the negative thoughts and experiences. It is only through this process that the psychiatric symptoms begin to cease.

4. Spiritual – The biblical Seventh Day is one for the spirit, a day of communication with our Creature, with Nature. It is a renewal of relationship between man and God, a re-invigoration of the soul. Emptiness can be easily felt, but quite often, it mingles with the kind of emptiness that is hard to fill. 

Stained glass painting on spirituality, AVR 2022

Our spiritual life suffers every time we act on something against our conscience. It becomes dull when we fail to do the things we should in accordance with our faith. I have heard of people complaining about the lack of “meaning in life.” For me, the answer lies not in our rationale thoughts, in our physical power or emotional or psychological makeup. In fact I believe that the lack of meaning is in the emptiness of the spirit. I recommend reading of A Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl, founder of logotherapy - a field of psychology which helped prisoners in German prison camps in World War II to survive.

As I continue to write this article at Room 3031 at the UST hospital (September 20, 2001) I glimpse upon a Newsweek story about 30,000 Japanese a year have been killing themselves. The title of the article is “Death by Conformity.” It is about an epidemic of young Japanese pulling back from the world."

Take the case of a 29-year old salaryman. He described how he secluded himself for three years after resigning from his company. “I didn’t even know if it was day or night,” he confessed.

Another case is about a “corporate warrior” who became a victim of economic slump affecting his company in the late 1998. He became “spiritually” weakened by an anxiety he couldn’t comprehend. This is how the report pictured the fiftyish company executive.

“At first he couldn’t sleep. Then he grew physically weak each time the train neared the station nearest his office. On several occasions he rode to the end of the line. At one point, speaking on condition that he not be identified, he went to buy a rope, then put it in the trunk of his car to be prepared for the day when he would hang himself. Fortunately the day didn’t come. A doctor helped him from overcoming his depression.”

Hikikomori Syndrome


This malady is called in Japan hikikomori or social withdrawal, a debilitating syndrome, which affects as many as 1.2 million young people – 7 out of 10 of them are male. Symptoms include


• Agoraphobia
• Paranoia
• Aversion to sunlight
• Severe anxiety
• Antisocial
• Fear they are being watched
• Think they are ugly, they smell, etc.
• Loner
• Uncommunicative
• Sullen, sometimes even violent


Hope for the Flowers*

Anyone who has read Paulus’ illustrated book, Hope for the Flowers, is certainly convinced that there is “nothing out there at the top.”

The story goes like this. Caterpillars scrambled up to the top, each outsmarting and climbing over one another, and forming a living pyramid. Each caterpillar wanted to be at the top. 

Imagine a whole mass of living, dynamic bodies, writhing, shaking, in the like of the Tower of Babel. At the top each one thought must be beautiful. To be at the top is honor. The higher one goes the more the risk to slide and fall off to its death.

“But there is nothing up there.” The caterpillar, which had reached the top, said. But the others did not believe. A female caterpillar gave up and turned into a pupa hanging peacefully on a branch of a tree. Then one morning she metamorphosed into a beautiful butterfly. Meantime her colleague continued on to struggle to the top of the pyramid.

She fluttered her wings in the morning sunshine and whispered something to someone she had met earlier. And the latter withdrew from the crowd, and followed the same thing she did. Then one morning he too, metamorphosed into a beautiful butterfly, while his colleagues were still struggling in the pyramid.

And the two butterflies lived happily ever after.

People are like caterpillars. They are gregarious. They form columns and pyramids. They step on one another just to be at the top. Many are frustrated, many get injured or even killed. Irony is that there is nothing at the top but space far from Heaven.~

Hope for the Flowers is an allegorical novel by Trina Paulus. It was first published in 1972 and reflects the idealism of the counterculture of the period. Wikipedia

Monday, August 29, 2022

Philippine deer (Rusa marianna)


Philippine deer (Rusa marianna)
Threatened Species

Dr Abe V Rotor

Philippine deer (Rusa marianna)

Description
The Philippine deer, also known as the Philippine sambar or Philippine brown deer, is a vulnerable deer species endemic to the Philippines. It was first described from introduced populations in the Mariana Islands, hence the specific name. Wikipedia

Scientific name: Rusa marianna
Conservation status: Vulnerable (Population decreasing) Encyclopedia of Life
Family: Cervidae
Phylum: Chordata
Order: Artiodactyla
Kingdom: Animalia
  • The Philippine Deer (Rusa marianna) goes by several different names. It is often  referred to as the Philippine Sambar or the Philippine Brown Deer,  endemic to the Philippine Islands. It prefers the low grasslands but it is being driven higher into the mountains to seek cover and evade hunting. The Philippine Sambar lives on steep mountain slopes covered by forest and in clearings within the forest, at altitudes up to 3000 metres.
  • The Philippine Sambar is similar in appearance and habits to the other species of Sambar, and is obviously closely related to them. Its body length is 100 to 150 cm, and it weighs 40 to 60 kg. The antlers of the males have 2 to 3 tines, and grow on average to between 30 and 40 cm.
  • Philippine Sambar Deer feed mostly on mountain species of grasses and herbaceous plants. They have a maximum lifespan of about 15 years and like most species, wild deer don’t live as long. Humans rarely see Philippine Brown Deer because they are mostly nocturnal. They lead mostly solitary lives, although they may be seen in small groups occasionally. Their main predator is man. (Acknowledgement with thanks: Internet)

Private collection on display at the author's residence
San Vicente, Ilocos Sur

A friendly family of Philippine deer mural at author's residence 

Where have all our heritage acacia trees gone?

 Where have all our heritage acacia trees gone?

Photographs taken by the author on a running car all the way from Vigan to Laoag,  a stretch of 90 kilometers.

Dr Abe V Rotor

 Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.” – Albert Einstein

Empty landscape meets the traveler

Emptiness is simplicity, purity, peace and order.
No.  Nothing exists in nothing - or least,
emptiness denies happiness and meaning of life;
leading many to solitude and loneliness.
                                    - A. V. Rotor

"One touch of nature makes the whole world kin." ― William Shakespeare

"Love is like a tree, it grows of its own accord, it puts down deep roots into our whole being." ― Victor Hugo

A Cross on the Roadside
(A Cross in the Sky*)

I have lost you forever, 
Now a silhouette in the sky,
Spreading a gospel to remember, 
For the mindless passerby.

You live half of your life, 
Yet fullest at the Throne, 
Earning it well with strife,
Where every seed is sown. 

The birds now a flock,
The child a man;
You bid them all the luck,
And now they are gone.

In youth you sheltered me, 
A thought I can't be free,
I atone for your brevity,
With a thousand and one tree.

"I feel a great regard for trees; they represent age and beauty and the miracles of life and growth." ― Louise Dickinson Rich

 

The Highway Conquers All

The highway conquers all:
Trees on its shoulder, lawn between lanes;
in rich diversity now thinned out;
wildlife pedestrians crossing;
breeze swept into cyclone and dust;
bright, pure colors into kaleidoscope,
landscapes into haze and maze;
whisper and lull into sudden boom;
leaves fall in any season;
Give way to the king of the road;
now you see him, now you don't -
the Janus' god of the Good Life. 
- A,V,Rotor

"All our wisdom is stored in the trees." ― Santosh Kalwar

"On the last day of the world I would want to plant a tree." ― W.S. Merwin 

 

"I think I shall finally see,
A kind-hearted man plant a tree,
For he who truly loves thee
Shall love others through a tree."
- A V Rotor, Light in the Woods

  Every flower is a soul blossoming in nature.” – Gerard De Nerval

 

"Until you dig a hole, you plant a tree, you water it and make it survive, you haven't done a thing. You are just talking." ― Wangari Maathai

 
"When trees burn, they leave the smell of heartbreak in the air." ― Jodi Thomas

 
"Trees are as close to immortality as the rest of us ever come." ― Karen Joy Fowler

 
"Trees do not preach learning and precepts. They preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life." ― Herman Hesse

"Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky." ― Kahlil Gebran

 

 Keep close to Nature’s heart… and break clear away, once in awhile, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods. Wash your spirit clean.”   John Muir

Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

 
Nature holds the key to our aesthetic, intellectual, cognitive and even spiritual satisfaction.” – E. O. Wilson

* Reprint from Light in the Woods by Dr A.V. Rotor 1995

Putakti! Paper Wasps on the Run!

 Putakti!

Paper Wasps on the Run!
Dr. Abe V. Rotor
Or was it the other way around?

This happened to me - rather what I did - when I was five or six. I don’t know why I attacked a colony of putakti or alimpipinig (Ilk). It is bravado when you put on courage on something without weighing the consequences, much less in knowing the reason behind.
Paper wasp nests, Museum of Natural History, UPLB Laguna

I was sweeping the yard near a chico tree when I suddenly felt pain above my eye. No one had ever warned me of paper wasps, and I hadn’t been stung before. There hanging on a branch just above my head was a neat clump of paper-like nest the size of a fist. On the guard were a dozen or two of this kind of bees, which is a local version of the hornet bees in other countries. Bees belong Order Hymenoptera, the most advanced order of insects owing to their highly developed social behavior.

I retreated, instinctively got hold of a bikal bamboo and attacked the papery nest, but every time I got close to it I got stung. I don’t know how many times I attacked the enemy, each time with more fury, and more stings I received, until dad saw me. I struggled under his strong arms sobbing with anger and pain.

I was lucky. Kids my size wouldn't be able to take many stings. Fortunately I was not allergic to bee poison. There are cases when the poison paralyzes the heart.

I learned a valuable lesson: Don't allow anger to overcome reason, and don't do anything, how courageous you may think, if it is motivated by revenge. They call this bravado - not courage.

x x x

Cranefly or Daddy-long-legs

 Cranefly or Daddy-long-legs

If you can detect a cranefly, you must have a third eye.

Dr Abe V Rotor 

This is a rare specimen I caught at home. It is a very curious one, although it is quite familiar; it is a relative of the mosquito. It is also rare because its size is much bigger than the ordinary cranefly we often called daddy-long-legs.* 

Crane Fly (Tipula sp), 
Family Tipulidae, Order Diptera

The cranefly undergoes four stages - egg, larva called maggot, pupa and adult. The maggot feeds on crops and pasture grass but it inflicts little damage. The adults emerge and swarm in the evening. They have queer body structure and movement. 

Craneflies are clumsy fliers, mainly because they have only one pair of wings for flying. That is why they are classified Diptera - two wings. The pair of hindwings are reduced into halteres or balancers which look like stubs or knobs.

When at rest, craneflies shake continuously in all directions that they become virtually invisible to their enemies. This unique mechanism has not been fully studied.

Among the Arachnids, members of the Pholcidae family are also called daddy-long-legs spiders. Their presence is known to be worldwide. Here are two species of harvestman spiders. The one at the right appears hazy and blurred as seen when it is in continuous shaking motion. (Acknowledgement with thanks: Internet, Wikipedia)  
  

Sunday, August 28, 2022

"From the Woods to the Sea" on a Wall Mural

                  "From the Woods to the Sea" on a Wall Mural

Dr Abe V Rotor

Travel in a mural on the wall,
meet the deities in the woods,
 the mermaids in the sea,
and all creatures big and small.

Wall mural by the author.  Living with Nature, author's residence,
San Vicente, Ilocos Sur

"When nature shall then be gone,
like Paradise lost after the fall -
 a make-believe mural on a wall rises,
beautiful in the setting sun." - avr

“The poetry of the earth is never gone.” – John Keats ~

Benefits of Backyard Native Chicken Raising

 Benefits of Backyard Native Chicken Raising 

Dr Abe V Rotor

Improvised chicken coop.  Living with Nature, author's residence 
San Vicente, Ilocos Sur

Features:
  1. Practical and low technology
  2. Locally formulated feeds, mainly palay or corn
  3. Natural immunity and resistance to diseases 
  4. Litter of rice husk (ipa) or sawdust as natural fertilizer or compost  
  5. Native chicken beat foreign breed in taste, especially local recipes
  6. As pets children love their unique colors and features
  7. Raised on the range, or in make-shift coop (or combined)
  8. Virtually self-supporting at harvestime, reduces crop wastage
  9. Game fowls from selected roosters or by crossbreeding 
  10. Family self-sufficiency in poultry meat and eggs 
  11. Pastime and hanapbuhay (livelihood) 
  12. Physical activity, family project, and therapy,  
 
Backyard chicken and native ducks for meat and eggs. 

Saturday, August 27, 2022

Thoughts on the Nature of Human Relationship

  Thoughts on the Nature
of Human Relationship

"If civilization is to survive, we must cultivate the science of human relationships - the ability of all peoples, of all kinds, to live together, in the same world at peace." - Franklin D. Roosevelt

Dr Abe V Rotor



1. As we undervalue ourselves, so do others
undervalue us. Lo, to us all little brothers.

2. That others may learn and soon trust you,
show them you're trustworthy, kind and true.

3. How seldom, if at all, do we weigh our neighbors
the way we weigh ourselves with same favors.

4. Even a strong man, a little danger may create
the impression he's small or the problem is great

5. The greatest crisis ambitious men and women face
is loss of privacy trying to win a nameless game.

6. If a little in me dies if only someone must live,
Here then Lord, here is my whole life to give. ~

Acknowledgement: Internet image

The Mysterious World of the Pagoda Bagworm (Cryptothelea heckmeyeri)

The Mysterious World of the Pagoda Bagworm (Cryptothelea heckmeyeri )

Dr Abe V Rotor

 
Pagoda bagworm, Crypothelea hekmeyeri Heyl., in pseudo colony on 
duhat leaf; right, enlarged side view of the pagoda-shaped insect. 

Sheepishly she peeps from under a pagoda she built;
Like the turtle she hides, creeps ‘til finally ceases to eat.
A Venus de Milo she emerges, sans wings she must wait,
Love scent in the air she urges a winged groom her mate.

She lays her eggs in the tent, broods them ‘til they hatch,
With heart’s content; leaves and dies after the dispatch.
To the Great Maker, life’s full of sacrifice and obligation;
Mother keeps young and home, the species’ bastion.

- AV Rotor, Bagworm
Light in the Woods, 1995

My pastime reading under a spreading duhat tree standing at the backyard of our old house was disturbed one summer. This favorite shady spot almost disappeared as the tree my father planted before I was born completely shed its leaves. Our yard turned into a litter of leaves. Our tree appeared lifeless.

Summer is when this tree is a deep green canopy, loaded with flowers and luscious, sweet fruits, and laughing children, their tongues and hands bearing the stain of its black berries.

The culprit cannot be the drought spurred by El Nino, I thought. Duhat is highly tolerant to prolonged dry spell, because its tap roots can reach deep seated ground water.

Even before I discovered the culprit - a shy insect protected by a pagoda-like bag - my children had already set up a field laboratory in their a tent, complete with basic research tools, and books of Karganilla, Doyle and Attenborough. For days our backyard became a workshop with the touch of Scotland Yard, Mt Makiling and Jules Verne.

My children called the insect living pagoda because of the semblance of its house with the Chinese temple, and because of its turtle-like habit of retreating into its bag. Leo, our youngest fondly called it Ipi, contracted from “insect na parang pagong at pagodang intsik”.

Ipi belongs to the least known family of insects, Psychidae, which in French means mysterious. Yet its relatives, the moth and the butterfly, are perhaps the most popular and expressive members of the insect world.

Curious about the unique bag and how it was built by such a lowly insect, Matt and Chris Ann worked as research partners. They entered their data in a field notebook as follows:

1. Base diameter - 2 cm
2. Height of bag - 2 cm
3. No. of shingles on the bag - 20
4. Size ratio of shingles from base to tip – 10:1
5. Basic design – Overlap-spiral

We examined the specimen in detail with a hand lens and found that the bag has several outstanding features. My children continued their data entry, as follows:

1. Water-resistant (shingle roof principle)
2. Stress-resistant (pyramid principle)
3. Good ventilation (radiator principle)
4. Light yet strong (fibrous structure)
5. Camouflage efficient (mimicry and color blending)
6. Structural foundation - None

The pagoda bag has no structural foundation, I explained. It is carried from place to place by a sturdy insect which is a caterpillar, larva of a moth. Beneath its pagoda tent, it gnaws the leaf on the fleshy portion, prying off the epidermal layer to become circular shingles. Using its saliva, it cements the new shingles to enlarge its bag, then moves to a fresh leaf and repeats the whole operation. As the larva grows, the shingle it cuts gets bigger,
 
Talisay (Terminalia catappa) favorite host of bagworms.

This is a very rare case where construction starts at the tip and culminates at the base, noted my wife. Remember that the structure is supposed to be upside down because Ipi feeds from the underside of the leaf, I said. “An upside pagoda,” our children chorused.

As Ipi grows, the shingles progressively increase in size and number, thus the bag assumes the shape of a storied pagoda. Thus there are small pagodas and larger ones, and varied intermediate sizes, depending on the age of the caterpillar which continuously feeds for almost the whole summer during which it molts five times.

If there are no longer new shingles added to the bag it is presumed that the insect had stopped growing. It then prepares to pupate and permanently attaches its bag on a branch or twig, and there inside it goes into slumber. The attached bag appears like thorn as if it were a part of the tree, and indeed a clever camouflage on the part of the insect. Here suddenly is a parasite becoming a symbiont, arming the host tree with false thorns!

My children's curiosity seemed endless. I explained that like all living things, bagworms have self-preserving mechanisms. They must move away from the food leaf before it falls off. They must secure themselves properly as they tide up with their pupal stage. After a week later they metamorphose into adults. Here on the twigs and branches they escape potential predators. Here too, the next generation of newly hatched larvae will wait for new shoots on which they feed.

Matt picked one bag after another to find out what stage the insect is undergoing. I recalled my research on Cryptothelea fuscescens Heyl, a relative of C. heckmeyeri, the pagoda species. Chris Ann took down notes

1. Specimen 1 - Bag is less than 1 cm in diameter, caterpillar in third instar (molting), voracious feeder.

2. Specimen 2 - Bag large, construction complete, insect in fifth or sixth instar, morphological parts highly distinct, head and thorax thick, three pairs of powerful legs.

3. Specimen 3 - Insect in pupal stage, expected to emerge in one week, chrysalis (skin) full, dark and shiny. Feeding had completely stopped.

4. Specimen 4 - Bag empty, opening clear, chrysalis empty.

5. Specimen 5 - Bag contains eggs laid on cottony mass, chrysalis empty.

The last specimen is intriguing. Where is the insect? Why did it abandon its lifelong home? A puzzle was painted on the face of our young Leo. So I explained.

Let us trace the life history of Ipi and its kind. Both male and female bagworms mature into moths. The winged male upon emerging from his bag is soon attracted by love scent emitted by a waiting female moth still ensconced in her bag. The scent is an attractant scientists call pheromone.

Then in the stillness of summer night, her Romeo comes knocking. Without leaving her bag she receives him at an opening at the tip of the pagoda bag. A long honeymoon follows, but signaling an ephemeral life of the couple.

The fertilized female lay her eggs inside the bag, seals it with her silty saliva, then wiggles free to the outside world but only to fall to the ground - and die, because Nature did not provide her wings!

“Poor little thing,” muttered Cecille apparently in defense of the female species. “Nature did it for a reason,” I countered, “otherwise we would not have bagworms today.” The wingless condition of the female bagworm is the key to the survival of the species.

The sun had set, the litter of leaves had been cleaned up. And the silhouette of our leafless duhat tree against the reddening sky painted gloom on our subject. As dusk set in, I noticed nocturnal insects circling the veranda lamp. A moth paused, then passed over our heads and disappeared into a tree. “Bye, bye,", cried Leo Carlo.

Summer was short, the rains came early and our duhat tree developed robust foliage. Cicadas chirped at the upper branches and an early May beetle hang peacefully gnawing on young a leaf. I was reading Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring when a gust of wind brought down a dozen tiny bagworms hanging on their own invisible spinnerets. My children were aroused from their reading of The Living Planet.

We had unveiled the mystery of the pagoda bagworm, but above anything else, we found love and appreciation on the wonders of Nature and the unity of life itself. ~~

 
Another species of bagworm (Crypthothela fuscescens Heylerts),  Family Psychidae. Photos taken at Angels' Hills, Tagaytay. The larva builds a bag of dried twig of the same diameter and length and attaches on the host plant until it reaches maturity.  The spent bag simply remains hanging. Other photo shows an exposed larva purposely for study.~

Friday, August 26, 2022

From cigarette to pipe smoking – then I stopped. A personal saga


From cigarette to pipe smoking – then I stopped.
A personal saga

I reeked tobacco. People avoided me, but how did I know, if I couldn’t even smell myself?

Dr Abe V Rotor 

did not only smoke cigarettes, I graduated to pipe tobacco smoking. When you have tasted Half-and-Half or Captain Black, believe me Marlboro and Philip Morris taste flat. That’s how one gets addicted to more and stronger nicotine. And having a pipe on a Monday, and a dozen more to fit each day or occasion, and dress code, makes you stand out of the crowd, so to speak. Wow! Sikat! And you feel a special person. For in the seventies, up to now, pipe smoking people have either the British or American accent. I even tried Australian but settled poorly with Ilocano, my native tongue. Now compare pipe tobacco with pinadis (hand rolled cigar) tobacco, exaggeratedly foot-long. I almost forgot my origin.

So you see smoking is air, it is high society, it is macho, it is advertising something you do not really have, or have to. I wore coat and tie once in a while with Sherlock Holmes’ “S” pipe, or wore khaki jacket and denim pants and had MacArthur’s corn cob pipe. I also had pipes with the bowl covered with genuine leather from camel, kangaroo and anaconda, and made people believe I have gone all over the world including the Amazon. Which actually I hadn’t except a stopover once in Europe which introduced me to the idea of shifting to pipe smoking.

And I had a friend, Sel, who shared the same idea. So after finishing our doctorate, we started scouting for the best pipe in town. Definitely it should be briar wood because it’s the only wood that does not burn, and its nesting weight on the palm of the hand is assuring. I suspect that it’s being a briar is not the species but the age of the wood, perhaps as old as the Redwood or the Bristle Cone, estimated two to three thousand years old. Imagine holding a piece of time as early as BC. And history! Just like what the great English poet William Blake said, “Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.” You hold too, time and space. Pipe smoking leads you to hallucination.

I tell you what the substance is – the filler tobacco - that rouses the olfactory more than grandma's pie? It must come from a combination of selected tobacco varieties, cured with the best liqueur, and hermetically sealed to greet the user as fresh as it was blended. In Europe a blend is highly personalized, like wine. This is top secret of connoisseurs. For us here, I for one settled for two brands, American and European pipe tobacco in can, then the only available ones. Believe me the difference between the two is indistinguishable. It’s still Nicotiana tabacum, the same tobacco of Fidel Ramos, Deng Hsiao Ping, Fidel Castro, et al.

More about the art of pipe smoking. I lit my pipe with a special lighter whose flame goes downward into the bowl, and witnessed in the process of huff-and puff a Krakatau in the making. I peered into the glowing crater. Then I would savor the maiden smoke as fresh as morning air, blowing it in a series of “O’s” which takes skill to perfect it. You don’t inhale, unlike cigarette. The smoke runs through the oral to the nasal cavity and out through the nostril, gently fuming a cloud of smoke that surrounds the face, with your eyes half close in dreamy relaxation. It was really thrilling, exhilarating. What on a Sunday morning with brewed black coffee and newspaper and elevated feet?. Ah, and ahs….

Some high-chin and easy-chair years passed. I was in my middle thirties, still a bachelor. I wondered if pipe smoking attracted women of my liking. Or did I drive them to safe distance? On the mirror I didn’t change, not a bit American or European. Not even with sparse moustache which I jokingly tell my barber it is insured like that of Clark Gable. My lips were a little deformed now, and being right handed the pipe tended to settle rightward, with some teeth bearing the weight giving up. My lips lost their natural curve and color, and my teeth permanently stained no toothpaste would dare clean it in advertisement. My fingers could be mistaken for pellagra. If only they had the Midas touch!

I reeked tobacco. People avoided me, but how did I know, if I couldn’t even smell myself? It’s true. Smokers are immune to the smell of tobacco, and it is stale odor – breath, sweat, clothes, books, bed, and the like - so whom would they trust to tell them so? And my skin became dull and dry, and episodes of feeling down became frequent – so with refilling and caressing my pipe. In short I was already addicted to the nicotine and the pipe is now only secondary to it.

Nicotine is a poison, a very strong one. The extract of one stick of cigarette when directly injected into the blood stream will immediately kill the person. So why don’t we die with packs and packs of cigarette or can after can of mixed tobacco?

Doctors tell us that it’s not the nicotine per se that kills, it’s tar its carrier and medium of a dozen other poisonous substances. The tar deposits into the alveoli, the countless air sacs in the lungs, constricts blood vessels, and stains teeth and clothes. The alkaloids pile up in the kidneys and liver, and restrict natural elimination of other toxins. Elevated heart and pulse rate is our body’s coping mechanism, but like a car running uphill it loses steam fast and soon and conks out. Eyesight blurs, sense of taste deadens, so with sensation to touch, pain and pleasure. Alertness slows down, sex urge decreases and staying power shortens.

And it is not the tobacco plant itself that's the enemy; it is how it is grown. The plant picks up the arsenic dusted or sprayed, the lead and mercury in contaminated soil, so with cadmium from batteries today. Systemic pesticides that kill insects, nematodes and mites ensconced in the plant body, unreached by ordinary spraying, persist as residue of high dosage.

By the way, there’s something in the tobacco that changed biology on the concept of what really makes a thing living?. It is the tobacco mosaic virus, Marmor tabaci. The rod shaped virus infects tobacco on the field just by rubbing or mere touch of a diseased to healthy plants. And it infects as well all members of the tobacco family - Solanaceae , to which Irish potato, pepper, eggplant, tomato belong. The virus remains domant in as long as twenty years in the cigarette or filler. And when you touch any of the host plants, it resurrects into virulence. Luckily, scientists assures us the virus has no effect on humans.

But with millions all over the world dying from smoking and its many complications, I believe the virus has mutated - even if biologically it is not considered a true organism. Mutation is still governed by error in DNA replication. And the virus basically has the DNA structure like all other things considered as living.

Really there’s nothing good about smoking, contrary to advertisements. I wonder how one can go a mile for a Camel when he is already exhausted at the start. Didn’t the cowboy in Marlboro retire too soon? Salem doesn’t make a beautiful landscape. Fortune isn’t something one expects. Fighter did not make us in our time as brave as Buccaneer.

Take the economic side. Our DOH says the government spends every year some P235 billion a year to treat illnesses caused or related to smoking like heart diseases, stroke, emphysema and lung cancer. And what does the government get in return from the tobacco industry? Only P23 billion, a measly 10 percent of the cost. PDI’s editorial The Puff that Kills, June 1, 2011, reported smoking kills 10 Filipinos every hour, or 243 a day. That’s 87,600 a year – and that’s a conservative estimate. Here is a case of an “old” goose laying the golden eggs, not worth it.

One day I was diagnosed of ulcer in the mouth, a wound that doesn’t heal. If you can’t eat, imagine the rapid decline in body weight and the various ailments you fall to. My clothes became oversized. I likened myself to a POW in a concentration camp in WWII.

“If you don’t stop smoking, you will die,” my doctor warned. “And soon!” he admonished.


Period. My pipes became museum pieces. A beautiful girl came. We got married, and have three children. We are now living happily.

Smoking changed my life – when I stopped it completely. ~