Connections

Dear Lucas,

We (me, your Mama, your Titos and Titas and everybody you can think of) have had some bad experience with all this new technology lately. Well, by the time you have your "new technology" ours will be old... so old that you'll probably say: "What's that?"

But I believe some things never change -- like complaining about poor customer service. Like when telephones were still rotary (look it up on Google or whatever your preferred source of information is in your time) we used to bitch about party lines and 100 people per 1 line phone desity etc etc. Its all about the balance between the promises the service providers make and what we consumers finally get.

Anyway, the following is a blog I wrote not too long ago for one network website. Hope your own experience is better than what we had in our time.

Love

Papa

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WE TAKE the internet for granted. It’s just another fixture of modern life. Surfing, emailing, Googling, blogging… activities that fill our everyday lives, as automatic as pressing the floor number button on an elevator. You don’t bother to know how it works. You just use it.

Think about it: the wonders of modern communications technology allows us to access information resources all over the world at a blink of an eye. We can do things faster, better and cheaper than ever before.

That is, while you’re connected.

A few weeks back the DSL line in our office just went dead. A call to the provider – one of many unsuccessful attempts – revealed that they were doing “systems upgrade” and would resume service shortly.

We felt somewhat relieved for the obvious implication of the word “upgrade” meant that it would only be better. But something felt wrong with the whole thing since they didn’t inform us before hand that they were cutting service to do that upgrade.

Hmmmmm…

Major withdrawal symptoms. Suddenly we felt so unproductive being cut off from the rest of the world. When it was obvious that our DSL service wasn’t going to be restored within the day, we connected laptops via dial up modems while the rest headed to the nearest internet café.

Then one day turned into two, then three, then four – with our insistence for satisfaction the provider finally sent over a technician. His first order of business: blame the customer. He kept insisting that there was something wrong with us and not them. After walking him through our own system and how we were set up, he finally discovered the problem. Our broadband router – which automatically connects to our internet provider – had a different login name.

Apparently, it was the old login name which was changed by the DSL provider days ago as part of the so-called systems upgrade.

“You mean they did not inform you of the new login name?” Mr. Technician asked.

That flash of lightning that rushed through my thoughts, of course, just remained in my thoughts. I simply refuse to argue with those who came before me in the evolutionary chart. Such a waste of saliva.

So our DSL service went back to normal. Upgrade? Well, now we can easily remember our login name because they changed it from a randomly generated set of numbers to the telephone number on which the DSL service passes through.

Wow!

Intelligent World

WITH the way our telecommunications service providers brand themselves you’d think that perception is reality.

But is it?

One telco, branding itself with global reach has failed me more than once in my foreign trips. First as a postpaid client, the system did not allow the use of the roaming service abroad despite assurances that it came with the service.

Later shifting to their prepaid service where the claim is to simply register with customer service prior to leaving for abroad to avail of roaming, it failed again despite instructions followed to the “T.” In a later trip we did the same thing but, as a precaution we registered a week prior then made a follow up call three days before. It was as if the request never existed. So we went through the process again, only to find out the day before the trip that the request had not been acted upon.

The lesson learned? Get to know at least a Vice President of the company just so you can name drop. Failing that, call the VP and tell him or her how lousy their service is.

Or go to the competition – the one that claims to be the intelligent choice in its branding. Not that their customer service is any better. In fact, here too you have to know a VP upwards to get some action.

But it’s hard to beat decent customer service out of a company that makes outrageous fortunes despite legions of complainers like us. Either we suffer through the service or risk being disconnected.

Consider this: would you spend so much time, effort and money attending to customer gripes when, despite that, you get 21 months pay for the year? That’s right, 21 months is what their employees were paid for the year – while most of us who do pay for the service are lucky to get our mandated 13th month pay.

Customer service, therefore, may not be a smart move.

That’s life

STILL, you can’t help but wonder at the awesome power modern technology gives us. There is nothing in mankind’s history that has impacted lives so much than the power of today’s information and communications technology.

It has enriched out lives, boosted productivity enormously and has enhanced creativity like never before.

And on the other side of the spectrum, it will leave us in the deepest end of despair and frustration when it fails. It kills us whenever we get a busy signal or fail to connect.

Think about it – when will this wonderful technology be most needed and most appreciated?

In times of calamity, of course. We can coordinate emergency resources, call our loved ones to check if they are okay, act quickly to save lives.

And when will these things bog down for sure?

In times of calamity, of course. There will be no power, no way to charge mobile phones and radios, transmission towers and cell sites will collapse, fiber optic cables will snap.

Your top of the line, quad band, 3G connected, Bluetooth capable, wifi ready, energy efficient, high-resolution-camera-PDA-GPS-FM-radio-TV-cellular-telephone will be as useful as the rock you will need to defend yourself when the food riot starts.

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Processing Death

Dear Lucas,

I didn’t expect to write to you about death this soon – perhaps it’s just too morbid, given your age etc etc. But it’s a fact of life and – given your Papa isn’t getting any younger – it crosses my mind more often than I want it to.

The trigger, this time, is the sudden passing of Dr, Michael Brillantes at the Veteran’s Medical Center last June 17. Mike was a classmate from Grade 1 all the way to High School. His death was sudden, at least in the way I received the news. Over lunch with some other classmates we were texted that Mike was in the intensive care unit, something to do with his pancreas. Before I could finalize plans to visit him in the hospital that night another text came in that he had died. Early the next day I was informed that he was already cremated. It seems that the events just kept rolling in faster than the speed I could process them. At this point I am still processing the first text message, how could Mike be that ill – a gifted physician, and among the most positive people I know?

I remember Mike as someone who was just there. That was a unique trait in an exclusive boy’s school like the Ateneo de Manila, especially those in the Honor’s Class where most if not all had alpha male traits and aspirations. In that world you either stepped up to dominate – got the medals, won the trophies, bullied the rest – or just shrank in a corner where nobody knew you existed and hoped nobody would notice you.

But not Mike. He was not alpha, but he was there. Just being there, smiling, being a friend and supporter to all, never rubbing anybody the wrong way… that was Mike.

However, I do recall vividly one afternoon football game in high school, in a rare display of power (having possession of the ball) Mike charged towards the goal. Perhaps due to the sudden burst of raw energy he lost control and just slammed into the goal post and fell on his back, unconscious.

We gathered around Mike, who lay sprawled on the grass. “Patay na (He’s dead),” one classmate blurted out. We giggled– we were young, in our most energetic time, and death was a concept that was unreal.

Mike opened his eyes seconds later, but did not get up until a few minutes more. He was in a daze, perhaps trying to remember who he was. But when he did, it was as if nothing has happened and we went on with the game. And for the next 30 or so years Mike continued to be there for all of us.

Mike’s death is one of those deep losses that are sometimes very difficult to fathom. Your Grandfathers’ passing was easier to grasp as they lived full lives. My father, your Lolo Pablo died at 69, the national average but still too young to many. But he had an extension of over 30 years because of a successful experimental treatment in the 1950s. If this didn’t happen, I would not have been born.

Your mom’s father, your Lolo Tony, passed away after a lingering illness well into his 70s. My mom, your Lola Del, had been bedridden for many years and hit her 80s when she passed on.

Your cousin Ana passed when she was just months old – and while it is sad I guess her life impact and potential had not dawned upon us and remains to this day vague possibilities and what ifs.

In the middle --
Mike Brilliantes being there made the night in our most recent gathering

Mike, though not a blood relative, was a brother whose timeline ran parallel to mine. Just before his passing I was still looking forward to days and years of project planning and implementing, of building dreams into reality, of running around crazy with you. Mike died, left a wife and kids, left a career, left some dreams and aspirations we still talked about in those class reunions. Mike’s death takes longer to process. But he will go on to play the game, and will as always be there.

Isaiah 51:11 – Therefore the redeemed of the LORD shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away.

As any father who loves his child I fervently wish to save you from such pain. But it will come so I take comfort that the Lord will watch over you at that time and will provide the comfort and joy you need as you go through that process.

All my love,

Papa

Writers Write

Dear Lucas,

On this day you’re one year, three months and 14 days old. And in this short time I’ve seen you do the most fascinating things I’ve ever seen. It seems like almost every day you show me some new thing that you can do. On your second day in this world you lifted your head up on your own, even the pediatrician was surprised. Then like magic you were soon waving hello and goodbye, making wawawa sounds by moving your hand to and from your mouth, grinning wide to show your teeth (you almost had a full set even before you turned one!), crawling backwards to the edge of the bed to make sure you dismounted butt-first to avoid injury and whining with frustration whenever Papa would say “no” to your attempts to touch the electrical wall outlet.

Papa’s friends and relatives have been asking why he has not been writing for some time. Well, I have, but not for public consumption. I guess they just got used to seeing my by line and works in various publications for so long that they assumed that I just stopped altogether when they stopped seeing my name in print. But the fact is I’ve been writing for a living – as strategic communications counselor (wow, big words) all my thoughts, ideas and recommendations have to be written.

I’ve written the occasional feature and guest column from time to time. I also started writing a blog for a major TV network’s news website. But after sometime I felt disconnected from my audience although I would get tremendous feedback. Later I was just uninspired.

I felt I was back to that point when I left journalism. As a young reporter I felt I had a mission -- a noble cause to keep Filipinos informed so that they could live their lives, pursue their dreams and have a purpose. But I guess life and its harsh realities have a way of whittling away all that good vibe. I just got tired of reporting on earth-shaking events that had no meaning or purpose a few years later. People have short memories… they forget… they screw up all over again.

So I decided to turn my pen (or keyboard) towards writing that had a direct influence on public policy, providing my communications skills to organizations and people who could effect change. Not as glamorous, but very effective.

All that changed on the day you were born, Lucas. You had a gleam in your eyes that was full of hope… of dreams yet to be fulfilled and dragons still to be slayed. I just knew I had to go back to journalism, if only to report to you, share my analysis, thoughts and aspirations.

I cannot tell you what lies ahead. All I can do is give you is a chronicle of the times we live in today and a sense of where I came from in that hopes that you can make sense of your own life and times

So here, I start with my letters to you. Maybe someday you’ll write me back, perhaps to say I’ve been right all along or to prove me wrong on my warped views.

All my love,

Papa