Building a Haunted Hall

Halloween 2012 fell smack in the middle of the week -- a Wednesday. This meant that any Halloween-related activity had to begin and be completed earlier than usual.

The Halloween Carnival at my son's school started (and ended) a couple of hours earlier than in past years. The parish hall, which was transformed into a micro version of an amusement park (minus the rides), had to be prepped and set up the night before. The biggest concern was building the haunted house.

By tradition, the haunted house is handled by the 8th graders. It isn't really a house. It is more like a haunted hall because that's what it is. Black plastic sheets draped a portion of the hallway to give an illusion of a dark, "haunted" place. These sheets had to be hung the Sunday prior, and unfurled on the day of. Unlike the parish hall, the haunted house had to be "built" immediately after classed ended on Wednesday.

As some parents took care of ensuring that the "house" was being built as planned, the others made sure the kids changed to their costumes, were made up with blood and all the fixings, and fed. A daunting task to say the least, especially if you only had an hour to do so. Despite some minor delays, everything went well.

It was fascinating to see how the kids managed to put together this make believe maze to entertain and, maybe, to spook their guests even for just a little bit. Their creativity and their desire to make it a fun experience was truly amazing.

I guess all the screaming and scaring took its toll on the kids. They couldn't wait till it was over. When the signal was given, everyone breathe a sigh of relief. But there was still work to be done. The "house" had to be torn down and everything stored away.

Like clock work, students and parents dismantled the structure and everything else in it. In about 45 minutes, the hallway was cleared, and the props were zipped away to the "dungeon" (a fancy term used in school to refer to a storage room), as if nothing happened.

As the last decoration was stored and the dungeon door closed, so too ended my son's class' 8-year participation in the Halloween Carnival at St. Joseph.

Open House at Bellarmine

On Sunday, Bellarmine College Preparatory had its open house. As expected, there were lots and lots of people.

In the morning, I told my son to dress appropriately. This meant no shorts and no shirt without a collar. First impressions count. It's always better to be overdressed than under-dressed, as my wife would put it. We're old school so you can't blame us.

On our way, I was a little concerned about parking. From the information that I've gathered, there are typically 1,000 to 1,200 freshman applicants each year. If about half of those showed up, we're talking of at least 500-600 cars converging on campus. And we're not even counting the 7th graders who may want to join in the mix.

When we got there, everything was in order. No bottlenecks. No traffic jams. Volunteer students were scattered outside the campus directing where to go. Should I be surprised? Initially, yes. But I remembered that this IS a fine Jesuit institution.

Would-be freshmen and their families were herded off in a huge hall for some refreshments, then to the theater for some welcome remarks from the school president and the principal. What followed was a tour of the sprawling campus. There was an option to go on a self-guided tour, but we chose to be showed around by student ambassadors.

The Bellarmine campus sits amid a mostly residential (and some commercial) area in San Jose. As we navigated through the property, we were introduced to some of the newest and most modern facilities you'd ever find in a high school learning institution. With very generous benefactors, it shouldn't be a shock. There are older buildings, too, and they've managed to give them a little facelift to keep up with the modern times, but still maintain that historic look and feel.

As we walked around, I can't help but reminisce about my own experience at Ateneo (my Jesuit school in Manila). We, too, had a huge, sprawling campus, which was probably 5 times (or more) larger than Bellarmine. Each time we returned from summer vacation, there was always something new on campus, whether it was a building or even just a fresh coat of paint. And I can feel (and see) the same at Bell.

I admit my bias for the Jesuits, having been educated by these men for 12 years. They've been in the business of education young men for over 150 years. Whether it is in Manila, San Jose, or anywhere else in the world, a Jesuit education is the same allover. To me, they're simply the best. As a parent, I want nothing but the best for my son. I want him to have the same Jesuit experience I had growing up.

As we left campus, I felt confident that my son will carry on the Jesuit tradition. Now, all he needs to do is to get in.

Author's Note: Bellarmine College Preparatory is located at 960 West Hedding Street, San Jose, CA 95126.

Game 3 and Mexican Buffalo Wings

Saturday is one of my favorite days because I get a chance to sleep in. Today wasn't all that bad since most of the planned activities were after lunch. I had lots of time in the morning to go online and do a few things here and there.

We had lunch at our favorite Korean restaurant tucked away in an isolated, nondescript section of a commercial complex off Fremont Boulevard. This was followed by my son's basketball scrimmage against a team of similar-aged kids who play in what is loosely called "Asian League."

That same afternoon, my son, along with 3 of his classmates, who happened to be his teammates as well, had to complete a school project that was due Monday. So under the watchful eyes of one of the dads, all four hied  off to complete the task.

Meanwhile, my wife and I didn't exactly know what to do or where to go. One thing was sure though. We wanted to watch game #3 of the World Series. But first, we took a quick trip to Stoneridge Mall in Pleasanton for a little shopping (she did, not me).

Now the dilemma. Where do we watch the game?

We tried our luck at The Cheesecake Factory (cheesecake what????) at Stoneridge. Unfortunately, there was no open spot. Besides, they only had a tieenee-weenee TV by the bar (I almost didn't find it). Being not from the area, we didn't know of any sports bar that was close by. Yelp directed me to a couple of places in Dublin, but we weren't really in the mood to drive further out.

We decided to try our luck in Fremont. We rattled off a few options and assessed our chances on getting a table. BJ's had tons of TV all around, but it might be packed. City Beach was decent, with ample TV and not-so-bad food, but didn't have a good ambiance (that's important you know). Then there's Elephant Bar, with limited viewing around the bar (which may also be super packed).

What about La Pinata??????

Heck, why not. So, off we went.

To my surprise, the place wasn't crowded, They had a TV good enough for sitting around the bar. Our table was close enough to follow the action, without necessarily being at the bar. The beverage of choice was a pitcher of margarita, but it took awhile for us to decide on a "bar chow." Eventually, it was nachos with carnitas. Yum!!! But I had a craving for buffalo wings. Scanning the menu, I found it. Buffalo Wings!!!!

Mexican buffalo wings??? Huh?

At first, I was hesitant. I didn't know what to expect. I never imagined a Mexican restaurant offering buffalo wings. I took my chances and ordered it. What came was a bunch of fried chicken wings, with buffalo sauce and ranch dressing (not blue cheese) on the side, neatly arranged over a couple of lettuce leaves. And there were no celery sticks either. But it wasn't bad. Really! The chicken itself was well-seasoned, and this helped enhance the flavor.

So, if you have such a craving, check out your nearest taqueria. You'll never know.

A Different Kind of Birthday

Friday was uneventful for me, at least. As the last day of my workweek, I try not to schedule any meetings or commit to any deadlines on this day. If any, I treat Friday as clean up day. It's the day I try to patch up lose ends, replying to non-urgent emails, and just getting the small stuff done -- things you normally can't get to the rest of the week. This Friday wasn't any different, except for one event.

Well, the event wasn't mine. It was my son's. Not his really, but he was in it. What I meant was he attended a quite unusual party. The highly charged dance party was to celebrate 2 of his classmates' birthdays. Held at the Cabana Club in Warm Springs, the venue was transformed into a mini discotheque (not that I am dating myself with this word), complete with fancy lights, fog machine, and house music that reverberated  in the otherwise quiet neighborhood. Even the parent-chaperones could not resist swaying their hips a little bit.

The evening was made even livelier with the a dance-off among the party-goers. Special prizes and treats were also being raffled out all throughout the night. Food and drinks (only soda & water for the kids, and an occasional frozen margarita for the adults) were aplenty, and everyone had a sampling of the delicious cake. For souvenirs, coasters, which contained pictures of the birthday boys' classmates, were given away to the guests.

But what makes this birthday party quite unique was that the celebrants requested their guests not to give them personal gifts. Instead, they asked each one to donate needed school and first aid supplies for students of St. Martin de Porres school in Oakland. And the guests responded overwhelmingly, with bags and bags of the needed supplies.

Kudos to these 2 young men (they're teenagers now) for their selfless act of charity, as well as to their parents for guiding them in this endeavor. A class act from a couple of 8th graders, who may have gotten inspiration from the class' Religion & Social Studies teacher -- himself a former teacher at St. Martin. And to the rest of the guests, many thanks for your kind hearts.

Party on !!!

(Note: I like to keep the names of personalities confidential in all my blog posts, in order to maintain the privacy of these individuals, unless I have gotten their permission to mention them by name.)

All Boarded Up

As I called it a day, I did my usual trek to the BART station. I noticed the glass facades of all the banks around the station were all boarded up, with signs saying they're open for business. Overhead, TV news choppers hovered to get a bird's eye view of what's to come. Then, I remembered from this morning's radio broadcast that today is the first anniversary of Occupy Oakland.

When I started this blog, one of the rules I made for myself was NOT to talk about politics, religion, or any other controversial topic that may unnecessarily agitate, irritate, or instigate. Occupy Oakland certainly falls under this category.

These "occupiers" have a mission, but I don't necessarily share the same. That's the most I will say. No matter what their belief is, legit or otherwise, I will respect that. What I do not understand is why they need to resort to violence and destruction. Even it is part of their creed, such acts are never justifiable.

At the height of Occupy Oakland's activities last year, terror reigned in downtown Oakland. Properties were vandalized, businesses closed early, and residents stayed indoors. Offices even had to send their employees home early. The streets around City Hall were filled with police in riot gear, ready for any eventuality. It was just chaos all over, reminiscent of the riots in Los Angeles many years back.

As I lounged in my coach after a long day, the thought of any protest march from "occupiers" had totally escaped my mind.The local news stations didn't flash updates of any activity either. I guess everyone was preoccupied with other more important things, like watching game 2 of the World Series. Besides, the San Francisco Giants was playing. And that was worth watching than a bunch of troublemakers and hooligans.

Parking Nightmare at BART

Since my wife was in an out-of-town conference the last few days, I had the task of taking my son to school. Well, it shouldn't be a big deal, right? But if you're commuting by BART, especially from the beginning of the line (like Fremont), then you'd know that IT IS probably a big deal.

What made my situation a little more complicated was the fact that I couldn't drop off my son at school no earlier than 7:30am. School policy. Although it only takes about 10-12 minutes to get to BART from there, those precious minutes equate to, easily, over 100 cars filling up BART's parking lot.

On these drop-off runs, I normally purchase single-day permits, which allows me to park at the Reserve Parking Lot right in front of the terminal. I was able to do so in the first couple of days, but not yesterday. Big mistake. The night before, I realized I had not purchased the permit, so I tried. I already had a bad feeling things wouldn't turn out right. I was right. No spots were available at the Fremont station. No permit.

Numerous scenarios played in my mind. If the past 2 days were any indication of how this Wednesday  morning would turn out, then I knew I wouldn't be able to find a parking spot. Immediately, my thoughts processed various options -- to park at one of the open lots at the commercial complex across BART, or to proceed to one of the residential streets and park there. I even toyed with the idea of taking my chances at the next closest BART station -- Union City. But I knew I wouldn't be lucky.

After  leaving the Fremont station and rounding the block, I decided on option #1 and parked at the lot of 24 Hour Fitness (at a complex across BART). It was quite a walk but beggars can't be choosers. In all these years that I have ridden BART, I have not parked anywhere outside any of its premises. This made me a little bit anxious, to say the least. But, what can I do. Just hoped for the best.

As I got off the train at the end of the day, my anxiety crept back. I wanted to get to my car as quickly as I could. I wanted to see what fate lied ahead. I couldn't be bogged down by any mishap, like a flat tire, a smashed window, or even a missing car, because I still had to rush and pick up my son from school before 6:00pm. It was 5:25pm.

There was a sigh of relief when I spotted the car where I left it. Erase Scare #3. As I circled it, I grinned. Almost ecstatic. No flat tire. No smashed windows. All good. Then, I was off to get my son.

No Point In Rushing

Yesterday had the makings of a stressful end-of-the-day. Over the weekend, I realized that my son had a 6:30pm calltime for his basketball game at Bishop O' Dowd in Oakland. That meant that I had to leave the office (in Oakland) early and be on the 4:30pm BART train, in order to pick him up at school before 5:30pm. Not knowing what to expect of the rush hour traffic on 238 & 580, I had to give myself at least 45 minutes to get to O' Dowd.

I had everything all planned out -- arrive home by 5:35, get dressed, leave the house by 5:45, and be at O' Dowd before 6:30pm. Of course, it was all wishful thinking. My son's BFF needed a ride so I told his mom to drop him off at home at 5:45. Then, I needed to take the garbage out on the curb so I don't have to deal with it when we got home since it'll be late by then.

Have you ever had an experience wherein you'd get interrupted while rushing to get something done? Well, that's exactly what happened.

My son's BFF's mom called while I was dressing up to ask for our address since she forgot. About 5 minutes later, she calls back as I was rolling the garbage containers out because she wanted to meet me at the corner gas station instead. By the time I was done and got around to picking up BFF, it was almost 6pm. The great master plan failed. The thought of going through the stretch of Mission Blvd (near Mission HS) all the way to 580 near Chabot College, during rush hour, concerned me a bit. Knowing how slow traffic is on this road made me realize we won't make it on time.

As we traversed Mission, I had an epiphany. A revelation. Heck, why do I need to rush??? We'll get there when we get there. No need to stress. No need to weave in and out of traffic, trying to get around drivers who decided to go on a leisure Sunday drive.

With that change of heart, I eased up on the gas and let things take its natural course. To my surprise, traffic seemed to flow much faster. The next thing I knew, we were entering the gate of Bishop O' Dowd just 5 minutes behind schedule.

I've had numerous experiences similar to this. The more you rush to get somewhere, the longer it takes. You hit all the lights or you end up following a slow moving vehicle on the fast lane, who refuses to move over or let you pass.

So, the next time you're in this situation, take a deep breath, and relax because there is no point in rushing.

Line Up

When I was old enough to follow a command from anyone other than my parents, one of the first instructions I learned was "line up!" I think I was in nursery school then (back in the days, it wasn't called pre-kindergaten). I would fall in line by following behind the person who was smaller than me (or was I in front of the line?).

Every time we entered the classroom or prepared to receive a treat, my teacher made sure we were as straight as an arrow, from smallest to tallest. It's one of those things that has become second nature if you needed to get something done quickly, peacefully. It is, in  fact, a way to maintain order in an otherwise chaotic situation.

It's funny how this simple command is easily forgotten, whether unknowingly or intentionally. What's interesting is that kids are not the culprits. It's the adults!!! I would understand if a child would need to be reminded from time to time, but for an adult, it's unforgivable.

I commute to work everyday, and I take BART. One morning, as I was waiting in line for the Richmond train to arrive at the Fremont station, an elderly man walks past us and proceeds to the front of the line to begin a new line from the other direction. I have noticed him doing it for the past few days, so I called his attention.

He argued that having 2 lines is a "common" practice at all BART stations, so his doing so should not be an issue. I replied that, unlike other stations that require passengers to board & off-board the train as  quickly as possible because of timed stops, we were boarding from the beginning of the line, and that the train was in no rush to depart. So, this fellow could have patiently waited at the end of our line, and be able to board, with enough time to spare to make a quick dash to the bathroom and back. Excuses.

And this guy doesn't stop there. We both got off at the 19th Street station in Oakland, and there was a line going up the stairs. True to form, this person bypasses the line and starts running up the stairs as he pushes head-on with passengers coming down. Occasionally, he would squeeze back in line if unable to move forward, then dart back out to continue his climb. Unbelievable!!!

There is a reason why we fall in line. There is a reason why we're taught this at an early age. Unfortunately, some people have aged but have not learned. Or they simply just don't want to. What makes me scratch my head is you'd often see these individuals in ties and business suits, that you would think they're educated enough to know better. But then again, I probably have the wrong assumption.

"Hey, buddy! The line is over here."

Rigo Has The Moves

Since migrating to the US 14 years ago, I never thought we would move as much as we have. When I say move, I mean move houses. I’ve moved from Manila to Manhattan to Sunnyvale to Milpitas to Fremont to Union City, then back to Fremont. Whew!!! I’m tired just talking about it.

Each move has gotten more difficult (and tiring, to say the least). As years go by, you tend to acquire and accumulate more things. As a matter of fact, the rate of acquisition is inversely proportional to the rate of disposal. We have stuff that we have not touched or even seen for many years, and yet we tend to bring them with us wherever we went. Now that’s a bad sign. We always say we’d sort things out later, only to find out they become regular fixtures in our garage and would be ignored till the next move.

One of the difficult tasks of any move is choosing the right mover. They can either be a great help to you, or they’ll be a big pain in the you-know-what. You’d want a mover that has a good reputation and would take care of your stuff. But how would you know? Then, there are cost considerations as well. Trying to balance excellent service and reasonable cost is always tricky.

Our move from the Big Apple to Silicon Valley was beyond my control. My employer in CA moved us, and they used one of the largest moving companies in the US. For a while, I didn’t worry about the cost. But then I realized the company was adding this tab on to me as my income earned. I wished I had a say.

For the next move, I had to look for my own. Being fairly new in the area, I didn’t really have a lot of resources to figure out who and what was fair. My only source was the yellow pages. I don’t recall having access to reviews to help me make my decision (well, not that I looked very hard for any). I simply relied on my guts and chose the one I felt gave the best sounding deal.

Moving day came. For the most part, it went well, but not without some minor issues and surprises. First of the bat, the mover asked for more money, saying they underestimated by a couple of hundred bucks. Then, they started scratching some of the walls and breaking some wooden furniture. I was surprised it took them almost all day to move considering we didn’t have that many items. And what really upset me was they purposely did not bring down the last item from their truck (a large TV) until I paid them, in CASH.

Well, I said to myself, it’s the last time I’ll be seeing them. Never again. Not is a million years.

So for our next move, it was important that I do not repeat the same mistake. This time I did my homework. I asked for recommendations and I searched the internet for reviews. Yelp ass always been helpful for almost anything, and this is where I found Rigo.

Practically everyone who posted their review on Yelp mentioned about Rigo and how helpful and honest this person was. Some have used him multiple times, and they’d always request Rigo to be part of the move. My curiosity got the better of me, so I called and booked Rigo and his company, SF Bay Area Movers.

What’s nice about this mover is that they are a small, family-owned company based in Hayward. And Rigo is the Big Kahuna. His daughter and some other member of his family also work for the company. Everything I read in Yelp was true. My experience was soooo totally different from the previous mover.

They arrived 15 minutes ahead of schedule, and they were ready to rock n’ roll. They were fast. No one was slacking. There was no chatting. Everyone had something to do. They worked with so much efficiency and they maintained the quality of work. They didn’t take breaks. You even had to ask them if they needed one. The only break they took was 15 minutes for lunch, and they didn’t even count it as “hours worked” during the move. Just amazing.

What blew me away was how Rigo and one of his crew moved our upright piano up a flight of stairs with ease, using straps hooked up to their arms. Imagine that!! I could not even push that piano an inch, but they certainly made it look like they were just moving a large cardboard box.

And what’s even more surprising is that their rate was VERY reasonable. For the amount of work and quality of work, I just had to give them a good tip as well. So for our next move, I didn’t have to think twice. I called them right away and we didn’t even discuss rates because I know they’re worth every single penny, and more.

I can go on and on. Just visit Yelp and check them out. SF Bay Area Movers of Hayward. And don’t forget to ask for Rigo. Tell them I recommended them. They might even give you a discount.

Burger Blues

My wife had been craving for a good burger since last week. She’s really not a big burger fan, but, occasionally, she will indulge in one. She’s not fond of fast food either, but for a decent burger, she will say yes to In & Out. But there is one place she’d go to in a heartbeat – the First Street Alehouse. 

After putting off going to “alehouse” (this is how we like to call it) for a couple of days, we finally went on Sunday, right after the 11:00 mass. We hit the lunch crowd, and, obviously, the place was packed. Located in downtown Livermore, this place serves mostly sandwiches, with the usual selection of delectable fried goodness. For those who watch their weight, there are salads as well.

The restaurant is fairly large and quite roomy, and the atmosphere is very casual. They also have outdoor seating if you prefer to dine al fresco. Inside, there are numerous large flat screen TVs to watch your favorite sporting event. Service is quite efficient, and the turnaround of customers is pretty fast.

So, what’s good?

We’ve always gotten their ½-pound burgers, in different combinations. And they’re always good. You’ll never go wrong. The sides are excellent as well. We love the onion rings and the Cajun fries. Even the regular fries aren’t bad. But I really love the garlic fries -- lots of cheese and tons of garlic. It’ll surely keep Dracula (and everyone else) at bay. Sandwiches come with a side of fries, kettle chips or garden salad. You can also chose from their other sides for an extra charge.

My wife got a mushroom-Swiss burger with applewood bacon and a side of onion rings, while my son tried the original alehouse burger with American cheese and fries. Both were so juicy and mouth-watering. I went the opposite way. I got fish – fish and chips, to be exact. Instead of steak fries, I got…you guessed it – GARLIC FRIES. What’s cute, too, is that each order of sandwich (and my fish & chips) comes with a complimentary lollipop. Something to suck on to keep you awake for the drive back home.

As an appetizer, we tried their nachos, with carnitas, and topped with lots of guacamole, sour cream, melted cheese, red onions, tomatoes, and jalapeno. It was a bomb!!! Really flavorful. They even serve it with homemade salsa on the side. It was a meal in itself. If you’re really hungry, they also have a super nachos that could feed an army.

In addition to all these good food, they also have a variety of beverages to wash all the calories down, including 24 different brews on tap. In addition, they serve breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays, from 8:30 to noon. For those looking for a late night bite, this place is open till 11:30 on Mondays to Wednesdays; till midnight on Thursdays to Saturdays; and till 10:30 on Sundays. They even have a kid’s menu, in case you’re wondering.

So, if you have an appetite for a good burger, take a trek to Livermore. It’s worth it.

Author's Note: First Street Alehouse is located at 2106 First Street, Livermore, CA 94550.