JessicaRulestheUniverse.com

Of course manners matter, even if it’s apparently acceptable to behave as if one has been raised by wolves (and that’s an insult to the wolves). Like it or not, we have to coexist in the same space, and we will have to interact with each other at some point, so it’s in our best interest to make the interaction as painless as possible. I don’t mean you have to make a fuss about which fork goes with what dish, or avert your eyes and sigh loudly whenever anyone commits a gaffe (which is reason to beat you up). We don’t even have to pretend to be nice to each other—which is phony and not good—we just have to be civil. Be considerate. Then get the hell out of the way. Here’s the Urban Etiquette Guide. It covers matters such as how to steal a cab politely, when you should take off your earphones, and what to do if an officemate starts crying. It’s not Manila-specific but it’ll do for now.

Mang Dick Baldovino, esteemed photographer and mentor, died last night. The wake is at St. Peter’s Memorial Chapel on Quezon Avenue. Cremation on Tuesday.

I sat down to write a proper obituary, then it occurred to me that my Mang Dick stories are all funny and not very proper. For starters, I don’t even know how old he was. In 2002, when he agreed to be chief of photographers for Flip magazine, he said he was 71 years old. Later we suspected that he was not actually 71—too much energy—but enjoyed shocking people (“But you look so young!”).

I met him in the mid-90s through my late friend Ruthie, who had worked with him on various art books. We used to hang around in coffee shops, listening to his stories about working with the film director Gerardo De Leon (Mang Dick was the still photographer on The Moises Padilla Story), photographing Emilio Aguinaldo, and his fantastic collection of Leicas (There’s a beautiful one from the 1930s that I kept threatening to steal). We would visit the North and Chinese cemeteries and look for bizarre mausoleums (Mang Dick mentioned that his father had worked for a maker of funerary statues). This was in the age of pagers, when the operator refused to transmit the name ‘Dick’. My friends and I kept bugging Mang Dick to let us organize his archives, but he wouldn’t let us near them. Then Ruth died in 2002 and Mang Dick had a stroke the following year. The last time I spoke to Mang Dick was at my mother’s wake in 2003, where he cheered everyone up immensely.

Mang Dick’s subjects always looked terrific, and this was achieved without artsy effects or make-up. It was all about available light. We would stand around waiting for the sun to emerge from behind a cloud, and at the exact right moment he would snap the photo and it would be perfect. Richard Fletcher Baldovino was a great photographer and advocate of talent, and we are honored to have known him.

El Ateneo bookstore in Buenos Aires, in what used to be a grand old opera house—stage, red velvet curtains, lights, tiers of boxes, the works. Thanks to Kuleba the Formidable for the link. Chus, we have to go! Ige, it’s time to change your name to Guillermo Ramos-Connolly.

Catcherfrench

Originally uploaded by Koosama.

Hey, this blog has passed 100,000 hits! Time to give out prizes. I’ll mail a copy of Manila Envelope 2 to the first person who answers these questions:

On what street was Holden Caulfield’s family’s apartment, and on what floor?

That’s two numbers. Email your name, age, and address to jessica.zafra@gmail.com.

We have a winner. Ivan Rico sent in the correct answer: East 71st St, 12th floor. (You could argue that it was the 13th floor because Holden said he walked up 12 stories, but our winner covered that, too, and besides I was looking for the word East.) Your Manila Envelope is in the mail.

Incidence of the word ‘Filipino’: In the animated series Family Guy, Brian the dog becomes an airport narc. He sniffs a pilot and says something like, “You’re back from Manila, you had lumpia for dinner and you slept with several Filipino women, and a man.” Spotted by the watchful Budjette.

I did not think it possible, but it’s happened: the Metro Manila Film Festival has plumbed new depths of ludicrousness. I’m not wasting two hours of my life on any movie in this year’s lineup, not even for the purpose of mocking it. At least last year we could entertain ourselves by writing bad verse about bad movies; this year I don’t have to see them to know that they suck.

Okay, I admit I considered watching Ligalig for Cesar Montano’s philosophical ruminations, or Tatlong Baraha, because who can resist the sight of grown men in Zorro costumes battling villainous clowns on the roof of a building? (I saw the trailer.) Then you remember that these sword-wielding Halloween refugees are elected public officials, ay caramba.

Celia Rodriguez’s remarks at the filmfest awards night provided a fitting ending to this pathetic story. According to the papers she said, “Siempre maganda tayo kasi hindi tayo nanggagapang ng awards,” or words to that effect. I think she’s sensational. Ms. Rodriguez of course is best known to my generation as Valentina, the snake-haired arch-villain in the Darna movie. As a kid I preferred Valentina to Darna because she was more articulate, had a better wardrobe (with the gold turban to cover the writhing snakes on her head), and unlike the superheroine, she did not have to be a mousy wimp when she was off-duty, she was fabulous all the time. I met Ms. Rodriguez a few years ago through the director Jeffrey Jeturian, and she told us hilarious stories about working with the maestro Gerry De Leon, her supposed feud with Ms. Rita Gomez, and modelling for Emilio Pucci in Milan. She also shared this interesting factoid: the full name of Valentina is Doctor Valentina Vrandakapoor, Ph.D. in Reptilian Zoology from the University of New Delhi.