Japanese or Chinese?

23 September 2017, 23:37

Anecdote • Culture

By Will Galang

Before doing our usual grocery chores Saturday mid-afternoon, The Wifey and I were having different cravings for late lunch. She’s hankering for Japanese cuisine while I wanted Chinese and we’re both adamant in sticking to our guns. To break the impasse, we resorted to the fairest method we both agree on — a game of rock-paper-scissors. Best-of-five.


She won: Wifey 3, Me 0. I graciously accepted my defeat and prepared myself for some Japanese fare. So, hello Ramen Nagi! It really wasn’t bad at all. I had my usual favorite Original King Butao Ramen. The Wifey went for the same although I wrote in my order slip that my spiciness level be set to 5 — out of 10. With an extra serving of noodles and Tamago to boot, I was filled to the brim, needless to say. We both cleaned out our respective bowls. If there was a Japanese ramen sensei at the kitchen and saw what we did, they’d be proud of what we have accomplished. I picked that one up from one of my favorite films, タンポポ (Tampopo), the one where a mediocre ramen joint was transformed into one perhaps worthy of multiple Michelin stars by a ragtag group of noodle experts and enthusiasts.

I think I want another serving. It was one of those times I was glad to have lost a game or gave up a craving. Win-win, I guess.

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Badly Drawn Girl

12 September 2017, 00:00

Anecdote • Drawing

By Will Galang

There was an art class of sorts at work today handled by artists from the Creative Group. My (younger) co-workers who expressed interest at attending late last week asked me if I wanted to tag along with them. (The event is open to anyone interested, regardless of one’s line of work at the company.) Although I’m technically working on a report, it’s not yet due for a couple of days or what, so off I went with my teammates. (Plus, our team boss was with us anyway. Teehee.)

At the Training Room, with the rest of the participants from other departments, we were swiftly grouped into pairs after a rather somewhat awkward (at least, that’s how I felt) ice-breaker. Before we dove into the actual drawing lessons, we were given a task that would involve our assigned partner — we would sketch each others faces on paper using pencil as medium. I haven’t drawn anything, much less a face, for several years now using whatever method. This certainly was a challenge for me.


My buddy for the drawing activity is Mae from Investments. We picked a table at the Training Room to do our work after saying our “hellos” and sat across one another. We were only given 10 minutes! With drawing pencils in each other’s hands, we chatted briefly about our respective roles in the organization as we try to work on our assignments. Mae had an easier job. All she had to do is draw a really huge fat circle, slap in some hair, and render some eyeglasses, and voilà, already an accurate representation of myself. While I had to apologize in advance if I couldn’t fairly illustrate her well-delineated eyebrows, a remark which drew a hearty chuckle from her.

In the end, all I could muster was a badly drawn face of a young lady I didn’t do justice to. Seriously, I did my best. Forgive me for I already forgot the fundamentals for proportionately drawing a face, so this would have to do. And the whole activity — from the initial sketching salvo to the shading exercises — felt therapeutic for me, a welcome diversion from my day-to-day analytics routine. (Not that I don’t enjoy doing that stuff, okay?)

Till next time.

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So Hard To Be Like Mike

10 September 2017, 00:00

Anecdote • Basketball

By Will Galang

Whenever I remember the so-called “Flu Game” of Michael Jordan, it always makes me mightily cringe for a couple of reasons. First, Jordan and the Chicago Bulls beat my Utah Jazz in the NBA Finals. Twice. Consecutive seasons. To this day, those Finals losses still sting for a fan like me and Jordan was largely responsible for those back-to-back heartbreaks. Second, I really don’t understand how Jordan could perform so great on the hardwood floor even if he was down with the flu. There he was, in all his stricken state, pouring 38 points against a championship-hungry Jazz. The series was tied 2-2 and Utah was playing in their home court. I recall how confident I felt watching that game on TV, knowing that John Stockton, Karl Malone, and the rest of the crew won’t let this decisive Game 5 slip away. Not on their turf.

But they will be denied by someone who wanted this game even more, someone who was not even 100% physically, but still managed to give more than 100% of his all to pull the rug under Stockton and company, making the right clutch plays in the end, hitting the crucial shots when the Bulls needed it the most. This all happened 20 years ago but it feels like this nightmare happened yesterday whenever this incident crosses my mind.


So what triggered the recollection? I’m feeling under the weather again. And I was just hit by the flu a couple of months ago. And when I’m sick like that, I couldn’t even function normally. I felt so sick all I wanted to do was sleep but my terrible condition wouldn’t even let me doze off. It’s so terribly difficult to move, what with every part of my body throbbing with pain, burning with high fever, it doesn’t even feel comfortable to lie in bed. I felt so weak, so useless.

Then Jordan started dancing in my head, vivid images of his fluid motion of driving to the basket and craftily pulling up for a fadeaway, the ball ripping the nets so clean every single time. And I wonder how he does it. He’s flu-stricken and he’s winning vital games in a championship series. I’m flu-stricken and I couldnt even get out of bed to go to work, a desk job at that. I have always respected Jordan, but I never rooted for him and his Bulls all those times he played there. But whenever I’m afflicted with influenza and the Flu Game comes to mind, those were times that I always cry, “I wanna be like Mike!”

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9 September 2017, 00:00

Anecdote • Site News

By Will Galang

Hello! Welcome to the latest incarnation of WillGalang.com. I’m testing the waters all over again, uncertain if I can regain the level of engagement I had before in my old (and now offline) blogs. Conventional blogging is, well, relatively dead or slowly dying, its heydays are long gone. Although I agree with the thought that it’s here to stay in the background. (Nowadays, although Content is still king, Social Media is the reigning queen. For how long, that remains to be seen. It all can be so ephemeral.) But I still enjoy writing. Yes, it’s easier to post a photo online or shoot a quick video using your mobile devices. But for me, there’s something truly satisfying about stringing words together to express your thoughts and ideas.

(c) Apple

Now that I have a newfound resolve — I think — to maintain an online presence to complement my social media channels, I might as well put it to productive use for the satisfaction of my creative side. Not just for the writing part, but for photography as well. I’m not a professional photographer though, just a hobbyist. But I’ll use this place to post pictures as well, old and recent ones.

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