Lintik: Some Random Thoughts, If I may.

Something unpredictable happened on the afternoon of November 14, 1998. It was way past 5 p.m., yet no one screamed, "Brods, tomaan na!" or  any other anxious cries for food and break,  no "union demands" for overtime benefits, or the pulling of Upsilon seniority to herd the brods into some nearby saloon.  Not even the siren song of the roulette and blackjack tables tempted anyone in that gathering.  Even our palpable slasher Eli Ilano, with his usual stash of beer in the inside pocket of his combat vest, emerged himself  in animated discussions about the Upsilon’s manifest destiny.  And as the various group representatives filed their summary reports, complete with overhead transparencies, not one subverted the proceedings with a plea for alcohol.  Perhaps, Lintik was not just a name given to that momentous three days in November, but  had  actually produced a flash of energy  that touched us and ushered in the evident infectious lyricism of the speakers that transfixed us in the third floor Harrah meeting room.

I had been nervous all week, wondering how the brods would take my talk on the basic concepts of fraternity, rites, and initiation.  I was unsure whether the brods would disagree with the fraternity’s moral imperatives I was to present.  In the end, I felt I had been bestowed with  a resounding grace, by the superior disposition of those who allowed me my moment of ponder and philosophy.  Add to that, the ontological anxiety we all brought to the meeting, wondering where the Fraternity would be in the next millennium,  whether the fraternity, like that massive and universal software problem, would face its own Y2K melt-down. Even my epistemology of the Upsilon found sympathy and understanding, and that’s better than winning a lotto anytime -- although my Latin translation of "We gather light to scatter" as "Lucem colligimus ut spargamus" more than titillated the brods to some erogenous height, which will remain unprintable.

It takes courage to confront oneself, to examine one’s motives, roots and all, in the naked light.  To admit possibilities and rooms for improvement, to retrace our footprints in the shifting sands of change, and to exorcise demons, imagined and otherwise, that impede our walk towards perfection, take intellectual strength and resolve. The room overflowed with it, this courage to stare oneself in the mirror, not for the purpose of narcissistic adulation, but to take down the mask and see one’s true self.  The amazing thing is, no one blinked. I came home, my faith restored, that the Upsilon is not following some imaginary yellow brick road, but is actively engaged in the making of future heroes and bayanis.  I am Daedalus who flew close to the sun but my wings did not melt.  I am still composing my thoughts.  But in the face of the many comments and accolades I have read in the list, it is difficult to remain silent.

Any decent symphony has its brass section, and ours is no exception. Gie Nolasco’s '67 "jook brick" during the workshops may consist of   regurgitated "accent" jokes older than when Dolphy was in kindergarten, but his delivery was the hallmark of a professional stand-up comic.  It seems my kabatch has had some practice since we last met.  Of course, his embellishment of Nitoy Lopez  ’65 adventures told with the twinkle of a Mark Twain, bordered on the incredible,  paled only by the incredible tolerance of a true gentleman like Fellow Nitoy, whose bonhomie is worthy of great praise.

It’s difficult to summarize everything that went on in the workshops, and some of issues discussed are too sensitive even for inclusion in the Upsilon List.  But I am refreshed and enlightened by the caliber of the speakers.  Inky Reyes ‘78 with his informative transparencies gave us a significant overview of the coming Upsilon Congress and simply makes many of us, who cannot go to Manila because of work or other commitments, sick with longing to get there. Then, there was Slats Doneza ‘52, creator of the Kambingan Challenge,  whose "I have a dream" was  more lyrical Walt Whitman
than Martin Luther King.  Ambassador Willy Gaa, ‘66 who was gracious enough to fetch me in his van together with the protective company of Toto Tayco ’68 and Rogie Concepcion ’66  before I got irretrievably lost in the vastness of the JFK airport, gave us his yawps and solace about the "strategy for generational succession."  Dion de la Serna ’57’s  discourse on the fraternity and politics was informative and concise.
Rico Alfiler ’69, despite his urgency to get back for a Washington DC meeting, reassured us of the soundness of  the Philippines’ economic fundamentals without speaking like a typical two-handed economist who invalidates any optimism with the "On the other hand" comments.  You know the type: "The economy is strong.  The index is over x points.  Inflation is contained," and just when you are buoyed by the good news,  he ruins your good feeling by saying, "On the other hand, uncontrolled consumer demands and the oversupply of money continue to threaten us…."  It   gets so tempting that one likes to declare that perhaps the world is better off with one-handed economists.  However, Rico, despite being ambidextrous, talks like a one-handed economist, a real financial samurai who takes to good weather and bad.  Zoe Viray '75, standing in for the much missed Butch Bandong '73, took us, in his own convincing words, into the realm of net possibilities and virtual "omniscience" where an Upsilon Data Base will give us instant access like a genie from an Alladin’s lamp.  In the virtual fraternal hang-outs, we need new rites and stronger funding.

There is always time for a tear or two, and we were all moved by Nathan Sese ‘84’s story of his seeming disaster and hard-won triumph, told like the gentle caress of a summer breeze, in full gratitude to the brothers who had enriched his life.  His emergence as a magna cum laude scholar of law is an Upsilon testimony of endurance and heroism.  When we gave him a standing ovation, I noticed the wetness in Chibu Lagman 63’s face, the tell-tale sign of a man who,  having just undergone quadruple heart bypass, is possessed with certain hormonal imbalance.

The entire affair was organized, from the word go.  Chug-chug Sichon '68, despite his deceiving appearance as a coarse-voiced Falstaff  trying to act like the Brando Godfather, mafia kiss and all, is a man with obviously strong organizational skills.  His team executed every detail of Lintik like the lightning precision of  a Mission Impossible group.  Dennis Alikpala '89, for example, saw to it that room mix-up problems were solved; the slide projector gave way to a much needed overhead acetate transparency projector; Hans Groot '63, our task sergeant, kept us on track and on schedule.  King Sorreta ’88 and Angie Fandialan '60 were moderators par excellence.  Angie’s design of the Agenda together with rites and all, was as graceful as a Ballanchine choreography, yet retaining certain flexibility for unexpected departure and the like, such as Rico Alfiler's need to get away early or Jing Paras's '71 change of plans. Of course, I am grateful to my room-mate Rogie for his immeasurable sympathy for my asthmatic coughs and post-nasal congestion.  When he presented the idea of an Upsilon mutual funds, we were as excited as bulls let out into the sunlight.  Brod, if anyone can dream and not make dream his master, it will be our man Rogie.  As we speak, he’s putting flesh on the skeletal plan.

For a few random thoughts, I rumble on like a nagging housewife.  Anyway, one last thing before I go – the rites.  They re-enacted for me my entire and continuous passage as an Upsilonian. For we must partake of our rites, every chance we get, every meeting we attend, every occasion that the Upsilon spirit is present, to give us that power of transcendence.  When we perform our rites, we enter into our covenant once more, into that secret place which links every individual to a larger "morphological" structure than that of our own physical body.  Whatever the weather or time of day is outside of our circle, outside of our ritual circumference, we create our own time and space.  We are returned to our Source, to be restored and purified.  Drink of the Upsilon spring.  It is a tonic that pleases the heart and puts dance in the soul. Lest we forget. - Alfie Kwong '67