How to Argue With Your Filipina Wife

I am not proud of the fact that Janet and I argue more often than I would like. OTOH I am proud of the fact that our arguments are invariably about nothing and are usually things we laugh about afterwards. Or at least Janet laughs at me.

Now, let’s face it, no matter what culture you are from, all couples occasionally argue – some more than occasionally.  I have a couple of online friends who claim they have never argued with their Filipina wives, but I don’t believe them. At the very least I would have to say that life would be a little dull if one never disagreed or felt passionate enough about his or her point of view to, well, get heated about it.

But the question here is – are arguments engaged by Fil-Am couples different? Sometimes the answer has to be yes. We all know that some disagreements with our asawas are language-based. A misunderstanding based on language occurs and suddenly all hell breaks loose because when she asked you to “shut the light” you shrugged your shoulders and shut the door because you had no idea what the hell “shut the light” means.

Or if she tells you her brother/father/ate got load and you assume she meant they got drunk as a skunk, rather than that they can now call you on their cell – a big argument might ensue.

And then there are misunderstandings that are cultural. Like most Filipinas, Janet points to something or indicates agreement with a tiny flick of her lips. So, if I ask her something and am anticipating a yes or no answer and don’t notice or am not looking directly at her lips, it causes confusion. I am wondering why she didn’t answer me and she gets pissed because she knows she did answer me – with her lips – and why didn’t I pay attention to her.

I would also say that at least 50% of all our arguments in some way, shape or form involve “the family.” Now I really like Janet’s family. I am serious – they are very nice people and I enjoy seeing them. I have been to her hometown of Alcoy 5 or 6 times now and each time we return to the Philippines, Janet is positive that I don’t want to go to Alcoy and don’t really want to see her family, despite what I believe is significant evidence to the contrary. So when we plan our latest trip to the Philippines, we usually end up in some sort of minor argument over visiting Alcoy, despite the fact that we both agree that we want to visit Alcoy.

Once we have booked the trip, including the one week to Alcoy, Janet will shyly ask whether she can spend one night with her family alone, with me staying in the hotel. I know this request is coming, and agree immediately. I completely understand why a night without the kano son in law is a great thing for all of them. But of course this is followed by ten separate discussions making sure it is really, really OK.

“What will you do when I’m gone?” Janet will ask.

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out,” I respond. This is usually followed by fears that I will do something dangerous, like take a trike on my own or go swimming at the beach. I assure Janet that I have been swimming on my own “since I was 40,” and can handle it. She will nod in agreement but tell me that her mother says there is the section of the beach where there is undertoe and really I should maybe just swim at the hotel’s pool (where I am also less likely to meet another Filipina 🙂 )

In these discussions I keep calm by reminding myself that my previous wives never cared so much for my safety, never asked for permission to do things on their own, and for that matter never asked my opinion about anything, and unlike Janet, never worried about whether I might meet another Filipina.
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The flip side is that I too have insecurities and they sometimes come into play during disagreements, usually in the form of wondering why a beautiful woman like Janet would be with a mope like me in the first place. Fears about my age, height, and lack of hair come to the forefront and Janet ends up annoyed by having to remind me that I am “not that old,” am somewhat taller than her, but that it is true that “I wish you had more hair.” Well two out of three ain’t bad, I tell myself.

Sometimes it seems like the thing that causes the most heated arguments is – the sending of the balikayan box. This happened recently. Janet had done a great job filling the box with the goodies we had accumulated over the past couple months. She did quite a job of overstuffing the box with the maximum amount it can possibly hold. After that it takes a herculean effort to close the box and tape it shut, usually involving one person sitting on the thing, while the other uses all his strength to pull the box lids closed and quickly throwing some tape around it.

This particular night I came into our bedroom tired and ready to go to bed. I tore off most of my clothing and Janet said, “let’s close the box.” I looked at it and immediately realized it would be a long, sweaty process and said “let’s wait till tomorrow. Set it on its side so the contents can settle. That might make it easier.” But Janet was ready right then and so we went at the box. Grunts and curses ensued (mostly by me) at first directed at the box and tape, and then directed at each other – ok, those were mostly by me also. We gave up and went silently to bed.

24 hours later Janet decided it might be ok for me to talk to her again. Apologies were given and a certain amount of necessary groveling was done (also by me) and all was well with the world.

The next day we went at the box again and easily got it taped up. I thought to myself (but smart husband that I am kept it to myself) ‘see, when the contents settle, it goes easily.’ Janet thought and then said to me, “see, when we do it together and you’re not cranky, it goes easily.”

So, now I have told you, dear readers how to avoid and resolve your Fil-Am argument problems – or maybe not!

PS. OK, Lucy and Ricky (above) aren’t Fil-Am but their arguments were so funny and they usually made up so well.

BTW, here’s my favorite description of the way most of us Westerners argue, Monty Python’s legendary  Argument Clinic:

https://youtu.be/hnTmBjk-M0c

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How to Find a Bad Filipina – Online Dating Tips #2

Janet pressed me recently on what I intended to do in retirement. “Do? What do I have to do? It’s called retirement,” I replied.

But there is no question that one of the reasons I started this blog was because I knew that as a faux writer it would be one thing that I would enjoy doing in my Philippines old age. But that answer wasn’t quite enough for Janet.

“What about writing books?” she asked. In fact, I reminded her, I have a novel or two I might want to clean up and self-publish online. I also have a book of humorous and slightly dirty autobiographical stories that I definitely want to publish. I describe the style as sort of like David Sedaris, but dirtier and a little bit less – well, gay. But I decided to wait on that till I left the country – just in case.

I have also thought often of writing a funny yet reality-based book about how to find a Filipina wife. In all honestly I think it should be easy to find a nice girl in the Philippines but since so many guys report only finding bad ones it is clear that there is a real need for any guidance I can give. I expect a book will be in the offing and Janet is already planning on how we should spend the vast number of pesos it will make. It should certainly pay for our monthly trike budget.

But since the book is not yet here, I decided to write yet another blog piece on online dating, but this time I am going to target it toward those guys who are looking to find the fun girl, the sketchy girl, the bad girl, since obvious that’s what so many guys must really want.

So, based on some conversations with Westerners who consistently are drawn to the dark side, here are my tips on how to find a really, really bad (though probably a really, really fun) Filipina. Needless to say, my tongue is placed firmly in my cheek.

Here are my tips on how to find a really, really bad (though probably a really, really fun) Filipina. Needless to say, my tongue is placed firmly in my cheek.

1. Avoid churches and colleges:  Just because most Filipinas are Catholic does not mean there are no bad girls out there. Girls that will put out on the first date. Girls that realize that the word missionary does not only refer to what they intend to do after college. And definitely girls that have experienced more positions in life than missionary.

So, by all means avoid meeting girls in churches. Yes, it is true that you could meet your dream bad girl in church, but the odds aren’t good and the local priest might be a poor source for referrals.

Same with college and university girls. These girls may talk flirty but they are too busy studying and working 60 hours a week putting themselves through school to give you what you truly desire.

Of course, Janet did have a good friend in school who managed to work, graduate, and sleep with everyone in pants. Janet was never sure where she found the time to do it all. An IT major, apparently she was very good at multi-tasking 🙂

2. Avoid mall clerks: Many very attractive girls work in the malls. As I have said before, discrimination is alive and well in the Philippines and all mall clerks are required to be attractive and under 30. So while that may appear to make malls a target rich environment, avoid them like the plaque. The girls work 6 days and 50-60 hours/week. And while they might be very happy to go out with you on their next day off, since that doesn’t come until after your two-week sex tour is over, the sweet and pretty mall girl just isn’t for you.
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3. Avoid girls from the provinces: Just as with the mall girls, this recommendation is more about logistics than anything else. You are in the Philippines for a week or two and your goal is to – well, “experience” as much of the culture as you can. So, do you really have time to travel hours to the provinces in hot buses with sweaty passengers? And when you do arrive you will have to waste more of your precious time meeting and interacting with her family, where you will actually be asked those uncomfortable personal questions you wish to avoid, especially the ones with the “M” word.

So, stick to Manila, Cebu or Angeles and avoid those pesky provincial marital questions.

4. Stay away from poor, simple Pinays: Sophisticate that you are, do you really want a girl that cannot share your excitement about your new Bimmer, iphone, or high end gaming system? You want her to understand and share your Western notions, values, and particularly your Western goods, right?  The poor Pinay may be good at telling you where to buy sacks of rice or lechon for the best price, but your upscale Pinay can tell you where to get the latest iphone – the one that hasn’t even been released in the Philippines yet – and the one that she “really, really, please, please, please” needs!

So, stick to the rich girls. The poor girl will actually hope you buy a sack of rice for her family, which is not quite as exciting as what you have in mind.

5. Only search for online dating profiles of girls who post pics in bikinis or wear tattoos: Actually this rule is changing a bit. When I searched online 4 years ago, it was sort of an unwritten rule that only the bad girls posted bikini shots and wore real (not henna) tattoos. Now this is changing. Hell, even Janet posts bikini pics on Facebook.

Nonetheless, for a good time, I would recommend those tatted and well bikinied girls. Stay away from the conservatively dressed; they know all about that damn “M” word. You have been warned!

6. If she wants to take you to church – run: If the girl asks you to visit a church with her, promising a fun time, she might just be wasting your time. When we met in Cebu, Janet immediately wanted to show me the famous Santo Nino Church. It’s actually a very nice site (see pic above), but if you are on a short schedule and looking for action, this is the kind of girl to avoid.

OTOH, a year before meeting Janet I did get to know a bad girl who also insisted that we visit Santo Nino Church. So, be careful because even a bad girl can pretend to be good. Have I confused you yet?

7. Do not assume that a girl who looks hot and nasty is, well, hot and nasty: In the West if you spot a girl in a tight top, wearing short- shorts, well made up, and wearing very high heels or platform shoes, you can assume she wishes to have fun (hopefully with you) or is on her way to her job as a streetwalker. In the Philippines she is probably also on her way to her job – in the aforementioned mall, after which she will go to church for midnight mass. And she wants to take you.

P.S. Apparently some readers do not understand the concept of “tongue in cheek.” Even my lovely Janet knew right away that I was being “sarcastic Dave” with this piece. So, if you found yourself infuriated by my terrible advise, please read again. We’ll all wait for you to catch up 🙂

 

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Grains of Salt

Note: This is Janet’s first blog posting. Hopefully many more to come. Let’s welcome her!

Adding grains of salt into your coffee to reduce the bitterness is not a bad idea. Well, maybe not in Dave’s fave mocha 🙂

Kids are the parents’ happiness and joy and/or kids are the parents’ bitterness and saltiness. Huh?

Let me tell you a funny and inspirational story that you might consider if you’re lucky enough to have a kid or two. It also shows how we discipline kids in the Philippines.

This story was when I was young, and I freshly remember that time, and shared this story with Dave. Salt played an important role in our lives, not just to enhance the taste of our meats or to turn the fish into dried fish, but also as one of the disciplines in our growing up.

One day my older brother (not to mention his name 🙂 ) went home looking like “Cotto;” not the parasite in children’s hair, but Cotto vs. Manny Pacquio. Entering our house quietly, he hoped that no one would notice his winning looks. But living with many siblings it’s impossible to be invisible even for a moment.

My dad or papa, a man of few words, asked my brother who, what, why and when did he have a fight. Questions which got a “zero” answer. But before my papa lost his control over my boxer brother, my mama took over and took my brother aside. She asked the same questions, answers were given, promises were made and the good boy boxer brother was forgiven.

Months passed. As they say promises were made to be broken. And of course gums are broken too! My brother tried to sneak into our back door, and quietly and quickly wash his bloody uniform.

At that moment I was feeding my mother’s hen. I was surprised to see someone kicking my chicks away. There was my boxer brother. “Ah ha…you got into a big fight again.”
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“Psst. Shut your mouth up.” He psst me.

Before I could even finish my words that I will tell my papa, brother punched my almost hairless head.

Ouch – it hurt and I cried out loud.

Here comes my calm papa. By now he had the routine down and asked the same what/when/why questions. My mama wasn’t around. I was thinking my boxer brother would be forgiven again. Well I was wrong.

“Janet, grab the jar of salt in the kitchen,” I was told. I got the thick rock salt and not the skinny iodized version.

As a religious family, the boxer brother had to face the altar with Mary, Joseph and some other saints, except Jude the traitor, who were all onboard.

My brother was told, “OK, get a handful of salt, put the salt on the floor in front of the altar and kneel on it while you pray. I’m not Jesus and I’m not saying I’m right, but he’ll understand.”

The question is, did I kneel in the grains of salt too? Nope – never! At least as I recall. Of course, if you ask my brother he’ll tell you that I did for sure 🙂

“Happy Wife, Happy Life” – or Maybe Not

“Happy wife, happy life.” This and it’s corollary, “When momma’s happy, everyone’s happy,” are cliches we’ve all heard a hundred times and as with all cliches you hear a hundred times, at some point they become meaningless and we just nod our heads idiotically at their assumed wisdom.

OTOH, if you have ever been married to an American woman there is something about the aforementioned cliches that scratch an unfortunately itchy place for the average American man. There’s an implied threat to the cliche – that is, what if momma ain’t happy?

That’s why when Janet seemed to throw out said cliche last night over dinner I did a double take. After all, I hear often from men married to Filipinas to watch out for the Americanization of their lovely brides. I’m usually not too paranoid about this alleged problem but as I say, I did take notice.

“What was that you said, baby?”

Janet repeated, “Happy life, happy wife.”

I let her remark soak in and then began giggling.

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“The actual quote’s the opposite,” I said, telling her the real cliche and then asked her what she had meant by quoting it.

“Well, when the family’s happy, the wife is happy,” she replied.

“Exactly!”

A classic example of the difference between Filipinas and we Americans.

 

Retirement: “The Decision” – (Hey, if LeBron Can Do It…)

If you’re a reader of this blog it should come as no surprise that I not only love my Filipina wife, Janet, but love the Philippines as well. Since I am approaching retirement and can almost taste it I am ready to announce that in a couple years Janet and I will be taking our talents, not to South Beach as LeBron once did, but to the Philippines. I’ll get into my reasons shortly, but first a bit of convoluted background.

Nine years ago, at age 53, I was divorcing. There was a nearly infinite list of things I had to pull off to survive the life change for myself and my two youngish kids. But a year later I popped my head out of the ground and looked around at a new life. I had obtained a nice job (I was a contract employee previously, and self-employed before that), had medical benefits (no Obamacare back then), a new house with a giant mortgage which I could pay (barely). The kids too had survived the trauma and were prospering. We had just taken our first vacation together as a threesome.

The only thing that seemed impossible was retirement. I always had mixed feelings about the classic American retirement scenario anyway. For one thing when I was young and nuts I was sure I would never live to retirement age. I worked a series of jobs which paid squat and then was self-employed, which paid squat + 1. I got married and had kids and drank the American koolaid which stated that anything above and beyond the bills had to go to the wife and kids.

But I did have a bit of fortuitous luck. My then wife, better known here as Ex Number Two, had a bit of money. In point of reality, her parents had a bit of money, which she knew (and told me constantly) would someday be hers. Therefore the attitude tended to be that whatever we saved would be supplemented by my inlaws impending demise.

Besides the inlaws cash, I told myself, I was smart, had talent and someday would strike it rich, either by selling a novel or screenplay, or if that didn’t work out, I was surely clever enough to rob a convenience store.

I actually had a screenplay with genuine Hollywood producers (a story for another day) but somehow didn’t exactly make Spielberg money.

So, I found myself at 54 on my own and finally doing OK. I did have a 401k and it actually had almost a thousand dollars in it. I began to do the right thing and started to save a small amount into my retirement fund. I did the math and found at my current pace I could successfully retire at 85.  I resigned myself to working till I died.

At the same time I had decided to fulfill one of the biggest goals on my bucket list – an African safari. I went to Kenya, and after a life changing experience on safari, spent a week relaxing at a beach town named Malindi. I loved it there and met several European expats living on their pensions. Based on their encouragement it occurred to me that I could live in Kenya on my Social Security plus my 401k, that is if I started to save like a madman.

I came home excited, began to save more into my retirement funds and dreamed of the possibilities. The only thing I worried about was women. As a guy, I know that makes me unique.

I wondered, whether as an ancient retiree/expat there would be the opportunity to have romantic relationships with even semi-attractive women. After all, I’d have the vast Social Security windfall. And so I went to the Internet, where all good things are discovered, to find information about multi-cultural relationships between geriatric old farts and – well anyone.

My search led me to a forum, run by a complete nut job who exemplified the old adage “those who can’t do – teach.” The men there, of varied ages and mental illnesses, discussed the pros and cons of living and dating in a variety of foreign countries. Asia was a hot spot and the Philippines seemed to get more comments than any other country. Like most Americans, I knew virtually nothing about the Philippines, but was a quick study.

As I have documented before, I found my mentor Pete, one of the few non-nut jobs on the forum,  joined Cherry Blossoms at his recommendation, and met my darling wife, Janet. And the rest as they say, is history.

Many men travel to the Philippines to find the love of their life (or sometimes a few dozen loves of their lives) but have nothing but complaints about the place. But for me, as a experienced traveler, I found that I loved not just Filipinas, but the Philippines itself and began to wonder whether this was the place to spend my dotage. I can now state that it is!

———-

Most of our reasons for choosing the Philippines as a retirement destination are pretty ordinary and straightforward. So here goes the list in no order of importance:

The Family: Unlike some expats I am not looking to avoid Janet’s family. I like them. What’s more surprising is that it’s possible they like me. Of course, once we move there, they will get to know me better, so that might change.

Most importantly is that Janet will be close to her family. She can see them whenever any problem or bit of drama occurs. Since she has nine brothers and sisters, I expect that to be often.

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But even more important to me than the cost of living is the style of living. I have written about this before. In the West how much crap do we buy because we can, or to fill up a hole inside us, or because cash is burning a hole in our pocket, or because all our friends have the same crap? In the Philippines, while I have no desire to live in a Nipa hut, the pressure to buy all sorts of stuff is dwarfed compared to the pressure of going to the beach or hanging with friends and family, or chasing Janet.

I have already begun my simplification process. I’ve eliminated all sorts of things that I used to do and buy without thinking much about it. Therapy at $135/hour – gone, to be replaced by my sweet partner, the aforementioned relaxing beach, and a San Miguel or two. $50 haircuts – gone, along with my hair.

My criteria for eliminating things is – will I be doing/buying this in retirement? If the answer is no, I’ve dumped it. Amazing how much I have saved.

The People: I don’t want to rag on all Americans nor pretend that all Filipinos are wonderful, but in general I like the people in the Philippines or at the very least, I like the difference. I do not want to be one of those expats who only hangs out with other expats.

The Sun/Heat: Apparently this is a getting older thing, like retiring in Arizona or Florida. I hated the sun and heat when I was young. If it broke 80 I was unhappy. Now if it’s under 80 I am unhappy. Janet and I freeze in the fall and winter and dream of it getting warmer here. When it finally does and her bones warm up, she won’t let me turn on the aircon. I am sure saving electricity is her motivation 🙂

But I dream of a retirement where it is always warm and the ocean, pool or shower can cool me off if necessary.

Service: No, I’m not talking about customer service in the Philippines, which is legendary, though not necessarily great. I am talking about service oriented providers. Today we had a clogged drain and called the plumber. Including my frequent-plumber discount I paid $330. In the Philippines it might have cost 330 pesos.

Housekeepers, yayas, yard work, plumbers, mechanics, etc. all are inexpensive in the Philippines. Of course there is always the issue of finding a good person, but that hassle can be navigated, particularly since as a cheapass I will be thinking about the savings.

Adventure/Travel: I still love travel and adventure. With 7000+ islands I figure I’ll have to live to 150 to see them all. Sounds like a plan. That and visit all the Asian countries that are easy to get to from the Philippines.

I still have an adventuresome spirit and while I might not be interested in death defying stunts, I am interested in exploring a new world. And while Janet grew up in the Philippines, she’s really not seen much of it. I can’t wait to experience it together.

We might even do a bit of sleeping, as shown in the picture above.

Happiness: It sounds hopelessly sappy but Filipinos are fundamentally positive and happy people. Despite the poverty of many, they are happier than most Americans. I look forward to having some of that rub off on me. In point of fact, it already has.

Next Decision: Where? After all it’s a big country.

 

 

Flying the Confederate Flag in the Philippines

To quote that radical leftist, Richard Nixon, “Let me make one thing perfectly clear.” I am a card carrying liberal, though this week perhaps I have misplaced my card. (Update: I am no longer carrying that card.) I say that because I don’t agree with the current nuttiness over banning the sale of the Confederate Flag. Bare with me here because I am going to try to make my case, all the while bringing it back to being married to a Filipina, which ought to be quite a stretch.

I have been thinking about this for the week or two the issue’s been raging, and finally knew I had to speak out when yesterday TV Land canceled reruns of The Dukes of Hazzard because the Duke boys’ iconic car, The General Lee, had a Confederate flag painted on the roof. I mean the show has been out of production for 35 freaking years. It’s been in daily reruns for that entire time. It never got axed despite some logical reasons that it ought to have been: namely, that it was one of the dumbest shows ever to grace the airways; because it’s villain was actually named (I kid you not) Boss Hogg; and because the show’s hottie, Catherine Bach, is now as old and wrinkled as – well me. The corpse, on life support for 35 years, finally had its plugged pulled based on a paint job.

The corpse, on life support for 35 years, finally had its plugged pulled based on a paint job.

For godsakes, Mattel pulled The General Lee toys off the shelves. Pretty impressive that a toy based on a show on the air when the kids’ grandparents were young is still a hot seller. Lot of racist kids out there, I suppose.

Now, I have no love for the South, whether of the modern or good old boy variety. Frankly I’ve only been there a few times. The first time was when I was in college. We drove to Miami on spring break, a right of passage taken by most east coast college students at least once. It was the 70s and long haired and bearded, a car full of us arrived at the Florida state border where we stopped at an inspection station.

I was driving. The guy in the booth gave me a long look. “Where you boys from?” he drawled.

“New York,” I answered brightly.

“Figures.”

Welcome to the South.

I just tell this story to make the point that I have no innate love for that part of the country. I am sure as hell not dying to re-visit South Beach or check out where Forrest Gump grew up in Alabama. I have a very good friend with property 40 miles outside of Tampa that he intends to retire on. He was actually nice enough to wonder whether I would like to retire there as well. Now, as I say he’s a great guy, so I don’t dare tell him the truth; that I would rather retire six feet underground than outside of Tampa.

But that doesn’t mean I’m in favor of banning the Confederate flag.

My reasons aren’t that complicated and have nothing to do with the First Amendment. If people want to get around that pesky Bill of Rights or even repeal the amendment, what do I care. I am old and cranky and will say what I feel like saying anyway.

Frankly, this flag crap is just a substitute for what we (and I definitely include me in this) would really like to do – take away the guns, not the flags. Sounds like a new slogan for the NRA: “Give up your flags, not your guns.” Because that’s the real issue. We can’t get the guns that actually killed those 9 people in that Southern black church. So let’s feel good, instead of impotent, by getting the flag, or in the case of the Dukes, the car.

I am sure that some people who know me might find my stance a bit strange. As a Jew, born post-WW2, wouldn’t I be offended by someone flying a Swastika, you might ask? Nope. I would be happy to have every anti-Semite fly such a banner. It’s no different from holding your hand up when the teacher asks, “Are you an idiot?”

You all know the story of Passover, right? Ok, maybe not. Each Jew in Egypt marked his door so that the Angel of Death would – you guessed it – pass over that house and kill only the Egyptian first born. Hey, it’s not called the Old Testament for nothing.

BTW, don’t get me wrong. I am not speculating that every Southerner that owns a Confederate Flag is a racist. On the contrary, my guess is that Daisy Duke, lying on top of the General Lee in the above picture, was an equal opportunity gal.

But let’s assume for the sake of argument that every cracker that owns a Confederate flag is a dyed in the wool racist. Good. Now we know who they all are.

I simply don’t understand the basic idea here. Do we actually believe that if you get rid of the symbol or ban the utterance of certain words that you ban the thought? Or more importantly if you could in some magical way ban the thought, would you prevent the horrific actions based on that thought? Hmmm…perhaps you can – it certainly worked in 1984 and Brave New World. OK, on 2nd thought maybe it didn’t.

I am on a few too many forums and you would be amazed at how many racists and anti-Semites there are, who speak matter of factly about their views on blacks, Jews, gays and every other group. They do that because, morons that they are, they believe that their anonymous user name, Lynchemall, makes them – well, anonymous. Apparently they haven’t heard of IP addresses.

So by all means get on the Internet and spit our your views or fly the Confederate flag and hang Hitler’s portrait in your living room. Next time the Angel of Death comes, she won’t be passing over your place.

———-

Part of this debate is our innate notion that people act rationally. Many don’t. There’s a great scene in Schindler’s List where the women are in their barracks discussing the rumor that Jews are being sent to camps and gassed. The women refuse to believe it. One woman says that it makes no sense since Jews are essential workers for the German war effort. “You don’t kill your workforce.” This is the way a rational person thinks. But hatred and murder are not rational.

So one irrational person thinks he can change the world by killing black people. The other irrational person thinks he can change the world by banning the first guy’s flag. And BTW, there are millions of people living today who still do not believe the Holocaust even happened because – it sounds so irrational.

So how does this all relate to the Philippines and Filipina wives? I have written about this before. Filipinos aren’t politically correct in the way that we are. If you ask the average Filipina what she thinks of say, Japanese and Koreans, she will probably tell you in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t much like them. The Japanese occupied the Philippines during WW2 and even though Janet and her peers barely know what WW2 was they know what the Japanese did and don’t like them.

And Korean tourists? Don’t get a Filipina started on them.

When Janet arrived here two years ago I was sometimes shocked, though frankly admired, her unvarnished opinions. But it scared me. I encouraged her to be careful about what she shared and with whom and tried to explain the sensitivities of some Americans. In those two years she hasn’t had any problems and she doesn’t censor herself. I am not sure how she gets away with it. She tells her co-workers directly when their work efforts leave something to be desired. OK, she does the same thing to her husband. The co-workers still like her; the husband still loves her.

What we in the West call prejudice or discrimination exists and is open and above board in the Philippines. Go into Ayala Mall and see how many clerks you find over 30; none. And it’s completely legal. Same with flight attendants. Janet says that in the Philippines, “These people with things in their nose who look like a goat cannot get hired in food service. Filipinos don’t want them serving food.” So, many forms of prejudice are accepted in the Philippines. I have mixed feelings about it but frankly, when I want a Coke on a flight this is a pretty nice thing.

BTW, Janet has become well aware that there are Americans who don’t like Filipinos or Asians in general. And there are certainly Americans who may judge her based on assumptions they make about our age difference. She has no problem with it, believing that people have the right to their own opinions, as long as they’re respectful to her personally (and God help them if they’re not – lol! ).

Maybe there’s something to this tell the truth business.

But just in case the truthful communication between groups doesn’t work – let’s stop giving everyone guns.

P.S. Let me be clear once more that while I have nothing against the existence of the Confederate flag, I am against it being flown at a State House, which is supposed to represent all people.

PPS. I just noticed that golfer Bubba Watson, who owns one of the original General Lees is going to paint over the Confederate Flag. I guess this genius, who paid $110,000 for the car a few years ago, didn’t notice the offensive flag covering the car’s roof when he worshipped it on TV or when he bought it. Apparently there is a reason he’s called Bubba 🙂

Humorous, irreverent, occasionally informative look at a no longer newly wedded Fil-Am couple