Plays and Phantoms

          
Neil Armstrong died two days ago.  All over the web, people asked, “Who was he?” 

Has it been that long ago?  Here’s a list of things that happened during one of my favorite years — 1986.  I can see you all asking, “Who are these people?”  Or, “Wasn’t that just this year?”

The US bombed Libya
Gorbachev introduced glasnost and perestroika 
A nuclear reactor melted down 
Israel revealed to have nuclear weapons 
IBM unveiled the PC Convertible, the first laptop 
TOPGUN catapulted Tom Cruise into stardom
Whitney Houston topped the charts with “The Greatest Love of All”
Voyager circled the earth, non-stop
A housewife became President of our country
Hill Street Blues, A-Team, Dynasty, Falcon Crest ruled the airwaves
Halley’s comet zipped by the earth to presage a birth
Carlo was born

Yes.  Twenty-six years ago today.  Look at him now.  Pilot, English teacher, and still full of wonder about the world.  Happy Birthday, Carlo!

— Tonet
        
          
               
             
             
         
      

A month ago, I found myself giving an interesting lesson plan to my Introduction to Ateneo Culture and Traditions (InTACT) class.  I was supposed to discuss the phenomenally dry topic of the rights and responsibilities of a student. 
          

            
With a new Spider-man movie rampaging through theaters, the old quote about power and responsibility came up.  Every right comes with its own responsibility, says my lesson plan.  But what happens when you decide to take on responsibility just for the heck of it?

A few months ago, my Development of Drama professor, an affable genius of a man with nine Palanca awards under his belt, invited me to be a member of a panel that would judge the final project of his class that year.  Flattered, I played the Simon Cowell of the committee and was rewarded with both pizza and a chance to see how creative some of our students can be – including, incidentally, a lovely young woman who had been my student at Saint Paul College Pasig during my first year as a teacher.  My professor later invited me to act as a commentator for the graduation project of one of our theater arts majors.  My input was well received, I ended up writing a review for another play, one thing led to another, and now, less than a year later, I found myself at the PHILSTAGE Gawad Buhay awards. 
           
        
PHILSTAGE is an alliance of the country’s leading theater companies, and the awards are basically the Philippine equivalent of the Tony awards.  I’m now on next year’s jury, a position I had never dreamed I would qualify for.
         
               

The story has a curious parallel with my involvement with the Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta.  I started out as a gofer for my Dad, the Air Boss.  I kept accepting additional responsibilities until one day, I found myself directing aircraft movement myself, working alongside generals, air traffic controllers, aviators from around the world, and the cream of our armed forces.
             
            
To this day, I remain rather bewildered at how I ended up with that kind of responsibility and that caliber of colleague.  All I remember is habitually saying ‘Yes’ when someone needed me.
            
                 

That’s what I told my students. Keep saying yes.  Keep volunteering. Keep accepting responsibility.  Because, to reverse the old Spider-Man quote, with great responsibility, comes great power.
        

The Gawad Buhay awards were a joy to watch – the thespians involved insisted on turning an otherwise mundane awards ceremony into a theatrical extravaganza, with play excerpts, sophisticated dance numbers, and touching tributes to mentors and friends. 
       
       
Periodically, the music would swell ad mutate into the classic theme from The Phantom of the Opera, and a garishly caped masked figure would be spotted on the balconies, trolling the performers.  It made me think of my first experience with musical theater, when Dad took me and my younger brother to see Phantom live onstage for the first time during a trip to San Francisco.  I am fairly sure that that was where my affinity for theater started.  If not for that, I would likely not be teaching a poetry and drama class every year, let alone be on the PHILSTAGE panel.  I’m glad Dad took on the responsibility of sharing the awesomeness of theater with me.

It’s an honor to do the same for my students.
         
            

              

    
      
Posted from Manila, August 28, 2012

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My Son the Airshow Air Boss

          

 

For three years I was Air Boss at the Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta.  I managed and scheduled all aircraft movement.

This year I will miss the Balloon Fiesta, the first time in 12 years.  I am in Beverly Hills, California, for a senior leadership meeting of my company.  Guess who this year’s Air Boss will be?

  

  

  

  

  

In 1997 my son Carlo won the Ateneo’s grade-level Interpretative Reading competition.  He was in Grade 4.

            

In 1966, I also competed in the same contest.  I won the Silver Medal!  I was very happy to get Silver.  I still remember who won the Gold.  He was good.

That same day, I lost the medal.  It fell from my pocket.  Crushed, I didn’t tell anyone.  At home, I told my Mom that I got second place, but no medal.  “Congratulations,” she said, and she gave me a balut.

The next day, my teacher announced to the class that someone found my medal!  She held it up in front of us.  Greatly embarrassed, I said it wasn’t mine.  Of course it had “Interpretative Reading, Second Place” on it.  Dumbfounded, my teacher looked at me curiously the whole day.
  
  

Thirty-one years later, Carlo was a contestant in the same competition.  He asked me to watch him at the Ateneo Irwin Theatre.  I promised to go.

I arrived at an empty theatre.  They had moved the battle to the old auditorium, I thought.  Where I won my Silver medal decades ago.  I went there.

I found Carlo in tears.  He was completely distraught – he had sent me to the wrong venue.  He was sure I would miss it. 

    

He was 9 years old.

         

I tried to calm him down.  I reviewed his technique and gave him tips.  He was given the reading piece two minutes before his turn.  His face was streaked with tears.

             

He won the Gold medal.  First Place.  He beat 9 other sections.

  

      

Carlo is now 25.  He is the Air Boss at this year’s Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta.  As always, this is volunteer work.  Normally he is an English teacher at the Ateneo college.

From today until Sunday, Carlo will manage close to 200 aircraft movements – take offs, landings, flybys, skydivers, paragliders, hot air balloons, ultralights, jets, gliders, balloon-bursting.

   

                                                                  

                          

In Beverly Hills, 1,000 kilometers and 16 time zones away, in conference with the CEO, CFO, COO and a handful of other senior executives, I am wearing a leather flying jacket, not a business suit. 

It’s my link to the biggest aviation event in the Philippines.

My friend Anna asked if I felt like a stage Dad. 

No.  I feel like I’m flying a desk in NATO HQ, and Carlo is in Tripoli.  I feel distant.

 

                          

Carlo isn’t a neophyte.  He was my assistant Air Boss for 3 years.  Still, the Air Boss briefs the pilots, and the assistant Air Boss briefs the girls.

Command is very different.  Carlo is now responsible for safety, timeliness, execution.  He will make thousands of snap decisions over the next four days.

          

           

Sons always do better than Fathers.  My son Julio scored 100% in mathematics on the US SAT.  He is an honor student who advises me on Economics.  My son David, fit and pragmatic, is the person I would want with me on a desert island.  Carlo became a pilot at age 20.  I became one at age 45. 

Sons always do better than Fathers.  It’s how nature strengthens our world.

           

       

         

        

Posted from Beverly Hills, California, February 9, 2012.

Day One of the 17th Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta.

           

Special Feature!

New slideshow of the 2011 Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta!

New video of Rolf’s aerobatic Ka-8 glider flight, at the 2011 Balloon Fiesta!

  

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Aviation Woodstock

       

They converged on a field 70 kilometers from the town of Woodstock.  Creedence Clearwater Revival, Joe Cocker, Santana, Grateful Dead, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Jimi Hendrix, The Who, Blood, Sweat and Tears, Janis Joplin.  They expected 50,000 people for three days of peace and music.  Over half a million came, and stayed for four days.

At Woodstock in 1969, the first band to sign up for the festival is still one of my favorites.  Creedence Clearwater Revival.

Click here to see our Aviation Woodstock video! 

  

  

  

                  

Two years ago Carlo and I were working the Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta as Air Boss, managing aircraft movement and flight operations.  Our security guy called me to the crowd fence line.  A man stood there.  He was from Missouri, USA. 

He had classic control-line airplane models and he could really make them fly.  It was a flashback to the 1970s. 

He wasn’t on the schedule, but he was such a hit with the crowd that we used him as a gap filler for all four days.  A walk-in performer.

      

Another year, we had a 30-minute gap because high winds grounded the rocketry team and skydivers.  Carlo ran off looking for ultralight pilots willing to brave the gusts.  He came back with an entire marching band and synchronized military drill team.  Ouido time!

                                           

Every performer at the Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta is an artist, skydiver, enthusiast, sportsman or pilot.  Most perform for free.  There is a 12-hour non-stop program, daily.  And if weather wipes out our schedule, we make up gigs on the spot. 

It really is the Woodstock of aviation.

 

Once, a fighter jet was training nearby.  We radioed the pilot, asking if he could do a low pass. The military jock let his hair down with three aileron rolls over the showline.  The crowd loved it.  Jimi Hendrix couldn’t have matched that for sheer decibel dynamite.  The next year, the Air Force sent four airplanes.

    

 

 

The international airport operates normally throughout the Fiesta.  Commercial and military flights pause only for our aerobatic flight displays and hot air balloons.  Very few flights are delayed.

One year we had to delay a Cebu Pacific A320 departure.  On the radio, we politely pointed out a week-old NOTAM, a Notice to Airmen, that said the airport was closed for an hour, to give way to hot air balloons.  The Airbus pilot sputtered, “WHAT BALLOONS?!”  Outside his windshield, over twenty hot air behemoths, each the size of a 6-story building, drifted across the runway.

     

    

That Captain sure didn’t get with the beat.

          

That year also, the ‘Meynard and Bill’ aerobatic flight display slipped past their NOTAM period.  A FedEx freight dog marked time on the ramp.  Now, it’s a felony to hold Cebu Pacific, whose routine departure delays are biblical anyway.  It’s a high crime to delay FedEx, whose hub connections are measured in minutes.

             

            

We orbited the aerobatic airplanes as FedEx departed.  To fill the gap, the airport firemen did a fire-fighting demo and gleefully smothered a burning tire with tons of foam, and sprayed the overheated crowd with water.  Then Meynard and Bill blasted into their aerobatic gig with snarling snap rolls, Cuban Eights, hammerheads.  It was like having cops as a front act for Santana.  Wild.

            

              
At our Woodstock, the Air Boss is the choreographer, and Air Traffic Control is the musical director.  Known collectively on the Tower frequency as ‘Fiesta Alpha’, our partnership burned through three or four Icom radio batteries daily. 

Flag jump 06.20, paragliders and hot air balloons 06.30, ultralights flour-bombing a drift car at 07.30, aerobatics at 08.00.  By the time most people woke up on a weekend, we had moved more aircraft than the airport handled on a normal day.  Safely.

                 

 

We had foreign performers — a Cessna 182 from Malaysia.  Turboprop Malibus from Japan and Singapore.  Cessna Caravan from Thailand.  Every airplane flying in the Fiesta wants low passes for their curtain call.

  

  

One year, a pilot at the fence line asked to join the balloon-bursting competition, a crowd-favorite event.  He had a Beech Sierra, a sexy airplane.  Despite its size, he chased party balloons in front of the crowd, topping the day’s scorecard with three kills.  Another walk-in performer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

   

   

We’ve raced ultralights against a Ducati bike, while monster scale radio-controlled jets screamed by.

  

   

       

Last year we paired synchronized kite flying with Rolf’s aerobatic glider in an aerial ballet that had the crowd ooohing and aaahing.

     

      

It really is a four-day rock concert, versus, say, the rigid theme park script of the Singapore Airshow.        

    

The next Philippine International Hot Air Balloon Fiesta, now the biggest sport aviation event in Asia, starts Thursday, February 9, at the Diosdado Macapagal International Airport. Join us for four days of peace, way cool and jet fuel. Hippie beads and tie-dyed shirts optional.

                  

    

        

  

Posted February 4, 2012, from San Francisco, California

   

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